Grace Alive: a Christian Romance by Natasha House Read Free Book Online Page A

washed jeans. He looked good. I realized he’d asked me a
question and blushed. Geesh.
    “Oh, just thoughts for my book,” I said
before thinking twice.
    “You’re a writer?” he asked, with an
interested tilt of his head.
    “I…try…” I fumbled. Why did I leave that dumb
notebook open?
    “I bet you’re great,” he said with a warm
smile. “What kind of coffee do you want?” He looked over at the
board and scanned the menu. I followed his gaze and happened to
look at his arm flexing. This was bad. I needed to not be looking
at this guy. He’s bad news. My dad would absolutely kill me. But I
felt such a strong pull toward him.
    “I’ll take a mocha with lots of whipped
cream,” I said. He walked up to the counter, ordered our coffees,
and came and sat back down.
    “So, tell me about your book,” he said. My
book? Oh man. He was going to think I was a weirdo if I told him
about my love story I’d been writing for like twenty years. Okay,
not twenty, but close enough.
    “It’s a love story.”
    “Yeah? Awesome,” he said with genuine
interest. Normally I tell a guy I’m a writer and that I’m writing a
love story, and they glaze over like a krispy kreme donut. I began
to tell my main plot points and could feel my excitement growing.
Whenever I used to tell people about my books, I’d always feel so
excited and happy. I hadn’t really talked about my writing with
anyone in ages. It felt nice. When I was done rambling, he leaned
back.
    “Wow, I’m impressed. I think you’re going to
be the next J. K Rowling.”
    I laughed nervously. “Yeah right, I don’t
think so.” Our coffees were done, so he went up and grabbed them
from the counter. I sipped at my mocha and got lost in its yummy,
yumminess. When I came out of my chocolate world, he was smiling at
me.
    “Are you back on earth now?” He sipped at his
black coffee with a teasing smile turning his lips.
    “Not quite yet, hold on.” I sipped it again
and made loud yum noises. “Okay, I’m back.”
    He laughed, folding his arms across his
chest.
    “So where do you work?” I asked him, trying
to think of a good subject to talk about to somebody I barely
knew.
    “I work in advertising for Bill and sons.” He
took a drink of his coffee.
    “I’ve heard of that place. You design
websites?”
    “Kind of. Mostly signs and little errands for
the boss. It pays the bills.” It seemed like there was something
else lingering behind what he was saying.
    “How long have you worked at Little Bit?” he
asked me.
    “Little Bit?” I laughed.
    “I nicknamed it, because Little Bit of
Everything makes me tired when I say it.” His eyes sparkled with
amusement. “The twins just call it everything, because they think
they can touch everything in that place.”
    “I’ve worked there four years,” I said,
remembering coming back from college and desperate for a job. Mom
and Dad knew the owner quite well, and I was hired within a
day.
    “You like it there?” he asked.
    “Eh, it’s okay.” I got lost in my mocha again
for a moment. I really didn’t want to talk about my crummy job.
But, what did I want to talk about really?
    “I don’t even think I know your last name,”
Branson said.
    “Reed.”
    “Reed. Okay, now I can stalk you on Facebook.
My last name is Tate. Branson Tate. In case you were wondering,” he
offered. He looked around the room at the people who were lazily
drinking their coffees and chatting.
    “I was dying to know,” I said with a grin.
Technically I was curious. I wanted to find him on Facebook and
snoop around his page.
    “Do you want to know my middle name too? I
mean you can learn a lot about a guy by his middle name.”
    “Sure, why not,” I said and sipped my coffee
again. The whipped cream smeared my lips.
    “Branson Quaker Tate.”
    “Quaker? As in Quaker oats?” I laughed even
though I tried really hard not to.
    “My parents loved oatmeal.” He shrugged, a
good-natured look on his face.
    “I’m