Every. Little. Detail.
She rubbed her hand over her throat. “Is it warm in here?” She fanned her face and headed to the window. Throwing it open, she leaned out, gasping for fresh air. There was a lilac bush in bloom, and its fragrance soothed her anxiety. She hadn’t realized just how suffocating Owen’s opinions had been—even the memory of them set her into a tailspin.
“Are you okay?” asked Seth.
She gulped. “Fine.” Taking one more deep breath full of calming lilac, she pulled herself back inside. “I’m good.” She brushed off her skirt, her eyes sweeping over the guitar set next to the bookshelf. She’d heard him play at night, in his room, through the shut door. “You should play something during your sermon.” The idea was like a bolt of lightning, and it lit her on fire.
He shied back from her. “No. I—I don’t play well in front of others.”
“What does that mean?”
His phone dinged an alarm, and they both checked the large clock ticking away on the far wall. “It’s time to go in.” He effectively avoided her question.
She let it slide. He couldn’t avoid her forever.
He rubbed his stomach as he mumbled.
“Were you speaking to me?” She put down the stress ball and picked her clutch off the desk. She wore a navy skirt with white piping that flared at the knees and a white cardigan summer sweater set. The white wedges and clutch rounded out the outfit and made her feel stylish, young, and flirty. Exactly like Hannah and the woman she was supposed to be.
“I was actually pleading for grace. I could use some enabling power right about now.”
Her stomach sank. She’d been so worried about her own insecurities, she hadn’t even thought about his. “Are you really nervous? You did so well last week. Everyone said how much they enjoyed your sermon.”
He nodded. “I know. It’s just … today feels bigger. Like something important is going to happen.”
Her eyes got big. “Do you get feelings like that a lot? What do you think it is?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve only ever had this feeling once before.”
“When?”
“The day I married you.” He touched her elbow.
She melted and put her hand over her heart. “Seth Powell, sometimes you say the sweetest things.”
He reached out to guide her out the door, his hand on her lower back. She sent up her own plea to heaven that Seth wouldn’t be able to hear the thundering of her heart induced by his touch.
They stepped into the hallway, and he turned to lock his office. He handed her the keys, and she dropped them in her purse. He didn’t like them in his pocket,ching-chingingwhile he paced in front of the congregation.
“You’re going to do great. You’re serving the Lord; He will walk with you.” She checked to make sure his shirt was free of wrinkles. He looked good. Freshly shaven, which was a shame. She really liked him with scruff, and he didn’t seem to like to shave, because he’d only done it twice this week. She didn’t dare ask why, because it felt too … intimate. They shared a living space, yet there were things she couldn’t talk to him about.
Like her fears that she was going to drive him away by being an oddball.
“We—” he began, and she almost swooned over his use of the wordwe. Oh, how she loved the sound of thatwe. “—have our fair share of octogenarians.”
“Which we’re going to change. Somehow, someway, we’ll figure out how to bring more families in. We can do this.” She brushed her hand over his shoulder, removing invisible lint. It was a good excuse to touch him. Something she’d been doing more of lately.
He paused for a moment, a look of wonder on his face. “I believe you.”
She blushed under his gaze. It was so honest, so admiring. No man had looked at her like that before. “Knock ’em dead.” She punched him in the shoulder, proving that she could take an already awkward moment and make it even worse.
He nodded, his lips pressed firmly together. “I’ll try.”
They walked down the hall together. Evie was acutely aware of how close their hands were. It would be so easy to reach over and hold hands with him as they walked. She talked herself out of it and made a fist to keep the appendage from getting any ideas of its own.
The chapel was half full. There were some beautiful hats to admire as she took her seat in the back. Maybe she should sit up front to show her support for Seth, but there were several elderly people with hearing problems taking up the first few rows.
Right as Seth cleared his throat to welcome them, a nurse in pink scrubs that clashed horribly with her red hair pushed a man in a wheelchair through the door.
