“No he isn’t.”
“I think he is,” Genevieve said glumly.
“If he’s a ten, then you’re not going to let his misgivings scare you off, are you?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
“Not if you really like him! You told him back before you moved in that you wouldn’t fall for him, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Then the solution’s simple. You have to makehimfall foryou.”
“Why, yes,” Genevieve said. “Very simple.”
“There’s no condition against him falling for you, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Then take it from your sister, the lawyer, who knows all about contractual loopholes.”
Natasha anointed her with a pep talk for a few more minutes before they hung up.
Lifting her chin, Genevieve drew crisp mountain air into her chest and resumed her walk. Her bad ankle protested, but she powered forward anyway.
Just once, she wanted to be the one that a guy set his heart on. She didn’t have that elusive thing, the thing that brought men to their knees, the thing that Natasha and her mom and so many friends possessed.
Thad had dealt a blow to her romantic self-confidence that she still hadn’t fully recovered from. She firmly believed that God’s approval was the only approval she needed. Yet Sam’s rejection stirred up a multitude of hurts that tempted her to feelless than.
Last night and this morning, she’d repeatedly refused that feeling.
She wasn’t less than.
Sam had liked the kiss, of that she was certain.
Her instincts told her that he cared about her and desired her, even. It’s just that he had issues of his own that prevented him from giving in to something as human and wonderful as a kiss.
It might not be noble of her, but she was actually glad that she’d cracked some of his discipline, if even for a moment. She was gladder still that she’d kept her cool when he’d told her he couldn’t date her.
She’d been disappointed in that moment. However, she’d seen that he was even more upset. Sam seemed set on punishing himself as some sort of weird tribute to Kayden. The fact that he’d dated no once since Kayden’s death proved it.
Genevieve was no great beauty. She didn’t possess the power to make a man forget his first love.
She was a Southern girl from a small town. She had self-respect and wrote Bible studies, used colorful pens and liked coffee. And once, she’d been Thad’s second choice.
Because of that, she could not bear to become Sam’s second choice, too. It would be best, for her mental health and her sobriety, if she resisted the impulse to throw herself at Sam the next time the impulse arose.
Sweetie, whoever is writing these letters is playing a very cruel joke on you,” Mom said to her at lunch, in response to the photo of the new letter. “I don’t know what else to tell you. It’s very perplexing and ... and disturbing.”
“It’s disturbing, all right. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” Genevieve asked her parents. “Anything at all?”
“No, nothing,” Dad said.
“Because you can trust me with ... whatever.”
“We know that. If I had something to tell you, I would. Listen,” Mom said earnestly, covering Genevieve’s hand with hers. Her nails were painted a milky white. “You can’t let this upset you.”
Genevieve looked into her mother’s face and detected underlying strain.
