Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Religious - General,
Religious,
Christian,
Fiction - Romance,
Non-Classifiable,
Romance - Contemporary,
Romance - General,
religious romance
didn’t run away. You came here to fight me, and maybe, to fight for me. And you stayed even after I insulted you.” Tipping his head to one side, his hands on his hips, he added, “And you stayed even after I kissed you.”
Isabel moved away from the wall, and on shaking knees, tried to walk to the counter where she’d put her drink. Taking a long, cool swallow of the amber liquid, she turned to face him again. “I didn’t have much choice. You had me against the wall.”
A smug indifference replaced the gentleness she’d seen in his face. “That’s how I court all of my women.”
Tired and frightened of her own soaring feelings, she snapped at him. “We’re not courting each other.”
He came back strong. “Then what are we doing?”
Sighing, she threw her wavy hair back off her face, holding it tightly against her head with her hand. “I came here to ask you to behave, to show Susan some respect. But since it was my fault you left the shop this morning, I just wanted to make amends.”
“Well, you did,” he said, his voice going soft again. “You did that and a whole lot more.”
Isabel dropped her hair over her shoulder, then crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive manner, still holding her soda with a loose hand. “Will you go back and get yourself a tux for the wedding?”
“Will you sit by me during the ceremony and dance with me at the reception?”
“I asked first.”
“I’m asking now.”
She smiled, then set her nearly empty can down. “You haven’t changed a bit, Dillon.”
He tipped a hand to his head in an acknowledging salute, then leaned back against the creaky table. “Ah, but you have. And for that, dear Isabel, I might be willing to behave—for my brother’s wedding, that is.”
“And wear the tux?” she said, tossing him the challenge.
“And wear the infernal tux,” he added. Then he grabbed her to pull her back into his arms. “Just remember, save the last dance for me, okay?”
“Okay,” she said as she allowed him to hold her close. Battling with Dillon Murdock had always left her drained.
Dillon didn’t try to kiss her again. Instead, he just closed his eyes and held her. Isabel couldn’t help feeling as if she’d come home. But she knew in her heart, that Dillon couldn’t give her a home. Neither of them would linger here at Wildwood for very long. They were both still searching for something, some elusive something to ease the ache in their souls.
And all around them, the waning sun cascaded through the tall kitchen windows in rays of gold, white and muted yellow, revealing dancing fragments of dust that had long lain as dormant and still as the pain buried deep in both their hearts.
Chapter Four
“D on’t open the door!”
Isabel stood in the dark bathroom at the back of the house, watching through the red glow of the safelight as the picture she’d taken of Dillon developed in a chemical bath. If her grandmother opened the door now, the picture would be ruined. “I’ll be out in a minute, Grammy.”
“It’s not your grandma,” a deep masculine voice said through the closed door.
Dillon.
Isabel almost knocked over her whole tray of developer. “Just a minute!” Taking a deep breath, she checked the timer, then stood back to see the emerging picture of the man who’d kissed her not two days ago, and who’d kept her awake thinking about him since then. With quick efficiency in spite of the flutter in her heart, she lifted the picture out of the developer, then dropped it in the stop bath for thirty seconds. Another minute in the fixer, then a good wash for a couple of minutes, and the picture was done.
But the knocking at the door wasn’t.
“Hey, you getting all dolled up or something?”
“Or something,” Isabel retorted as she clipped the finished picture up on the clothesline she had extended across the cracked tub. “I’m working.”
“Sorry, but that excuse won’t wash. It’s a pretty summer day and I have