“How were your visits?” he asked. She’d taken off that morning to make the rounds before her lesson. Mrs. Carter had taken a spill and sprained her knee. And of course, she couldn’t seem to stay away from baby Tayson for long. Seeing her hold him so easily, like a pro, had his heart tripping over itself to get to her. She’d make an amazing mother.
Not that he could do anything about that.
Even though he was dying to act on the impulse to make her his.
“Glorious. I love holding Tayson. He smells like heaven.” She hugged herself like she was trying to hold in the joy that simply flowed out of her.
Seth stared, shocked by the pure goodness in his wife. He set the cup aside. “I don’t deserve you.”
She bumped him with her shoulder. “Says thepreacher.”
He shook his head. All his growing up, he’d been surrounded by women who were hard and harsh, rough around the edges and prickly. He’d always thought that’s how women were. And then there was Evie.
Something inside of him sprang to life—it was a truth he didn’t know or understand, but there was a part of him that reacted to the pure womanliness of her. He took her face in his hands, not thinking only moving on instinct, and pressed his lips to hers.
Just as his mind caught up with his actions, and the reality of holding her close hit him full force, she responded to his kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she laced her fingers into his hair, her nails tickling against his scalp and drawing out a moan. A hole opened up inside of him, one he hadn’t known existed, but he couldn’t deny it was strong enough to suck them both in.
In a move of self-preservation, he ripped his mouth off of hers and leapt to his feet. Whatever was inside of him was big and scary.
Stumbling backward, he muttered, “S-sorry.” The next thing he knew, he was in the car, driving away, and wiping sweat off his forehead.
He had to keep Evie away from whatever dark parts of his soul remained.
Maybe the blackness came forward because of the lie he’d told the board, the one he’d dragged Evie into by marrying her. He shouldn’t have asked her to be dishonest and pretend that there was something between them that wasn’t there. She was pure, and he was slums and garbage heaps. It was wrong to put her in this position.
And then he’d gone and kissed her. Like he had a right.
It didn’t matter that she was his wife. He should have known better.
Chapter Fourteen
Evie
Evie watched the car leave, noting the speed with which it left.
The speed of fear.
The speed of longing.
The speed of … regret?
She pressed her fingers to her lips. They were warm and tasted of Seth. There was no denying that he’d kissed her unlike any man had kissed her in her entire life.
He kissed with passion. Yes, passion. But also … giving.
At this point, she hated comparing him to Owen, but the contrasts were striking. When Owen had kissed her, it always felt like he was pushing limits, trying to get more out of her than he was interested in giving.
Not Seth. Seth’s kiss had been full of sunshine and light, strawberries and music. He’d laid himself bare in that kiss, asking her to accept the broken parts as much as the man he’d built himself into.
There had been no question. She’d held him close and, with her lips, said,I take all of you; here is all of me.
Maybe that was what scared him off: theall of herpart. She’d been so careful for the past couple of weeks to say the right thing at the right time, do the right thing, be the kind of woman a preacher would be proud to marry. In one touch of the lips, her guard had come down and she’d heaped herself upon him as surely as if she’d thrown herself into his lap.
No wonder he’d kissed and run.
Maybe she was the opposite of a man magnet. She sniffed her arm, wondering if her vanilla lotion had repellant in the chemicals. Or, more likely, the chemicals in the lotion reacted with her body to have the effect. Some women drew men to them like they were made of honey and sugar water. Not her.
She sighed and went slowly into the house, stopping at Seth’s half-open door. The desire to be nearer to him, even in his absence, drew her into the forbidden space. She stood in the middle of the old carpet and turned in a slow circle. There wasn’t much in here by way of personal things. No family pictures. No awards. His diploma hung in his office at the church. There were images of Christ, the kind that brought comfort and peace. One depicted Him offering His hand to a drowning man done in stunning blues and whites.
