After a moment, I stand and grab her hand. “Let’s start heading back to our vehicles before it gets any later.”
We walk in companionable silence, though a million unspoken declarations and questions hang above our head.
It’s time I face the facts.
Emma Jane wants something more with me. Do her feelings run as deep as mine? By her little marriage comment, I’m hopeful, but also, she could have just been teasing me or seeking validation in her fragile state.
Whatever it may be, it’s time to find out.
We reach our vehicles, and I open her car door as she stands unmoving beside me.
Before I realize what’s happening, she rises to her tiptoes, places a hand on my shoulder, and kisses my cheek. She ducks under my arm and slides into her car, shutting the door. I’m stunned as she drives off, my hand mindlessly rubbing the heated spot on my face.
Emma Jane
Rule #18: Encourage direct actions. Words aren’t always enough.
The new reverend is an elderly gentleman with a pleasant smile and a warm aura. Overall, I think he will make the congregation feel at ease after the sleazy Elton Philip.
“Knightley’s single now, did you hear?” Henrietta’s voice causes me to jump, but when I turn to face her, she’s wearing a smirk. “Are you going to tell him how you feel?”
I think of last night. Of kissing his cheek before I left.
I all but told him I’d marry him, and I’m not sure exactly where that came from other than the murky depths of my soul.
Because it’s true.
I more than like Knightley.
I’m in love with him.
After he encouraged me to take over Books and Beans, I knew I wanted him by my side for the entire process. For the rest of my life. And I think he feels the same way.
“I want to,” I say, looking over Knightley. He’s talking with Marcus, and when he sneaks a glance my way, his smile broadens. I can’t help but smile in return. We did that for the entire church service. He sat in the row across from me, and we kept catching each other stealing glances.
Knightley is rocking plaid pants again, and when he starts walking my way (I haven’t lifted my eyes from the way his thighs look in those bad boys), my breath hitches and my heartbeat picks up. Henrietta shoves me toward him, and I all but stumble into his arms.
“Easy there, Janie.”
I glare back at Henrietta. “It was my so-called friend.”
He laughs then takes my hand.
In front of everyone!
Something has definitely shifted.
“I’m stealing you away for lunch. Is that okay?” But he’s already pulling me behind him toward his truck.
“By all means,” I say in a mock exasperated manner through girlish giggles.
Once we are inside his truck, we drive in mutual silence to the nearest grocery store.
“I’ll be quick. Stay here.”
“Grab a water for me, please,” I call as he shuts the door.
Fifteen minutes later, he’s back in the truck with two armfuls of grocery bags.
