His heart shook as if thundering,Did you see that?
In awe of the woman, he waved towards the barely discernible path in the grass that would take them into the back yard. “Come on back. Let’s see if we can get it going.” Her work ethic would be a credit to them both. He shoved open the shed door. It protested loudly, crying out for some grease and loving care. The inside of the shed was clean and organized. In the middle of the space was a mustard-yellow mower. He stepped back with a flourish. “You’re carriage, my lady.”
She hopped on, the seat protesting loudly. She glared down at it. “That wasn’t very polite.”
He pulled in his grin. He was grateful that he enjoyed her company, but the amount he enjoyed it alarmed him. If he’d met Evie any other way, he’d throw out his ban on dating and take her to the movies. He couldn’t very well do that with his wife whom he’d promised a platonic relationship. He’d have to stick to work andthe workand minimize the time they spent together. Just how he was going to do that had him scratching his head.
The lawn mower started right up, and he jumped out of the way as she lurched through the door. “Yeehaw!” She raised one arm over her head. The mower veered left, and she hurriedly grabbed hold of the wheel with both hands, laughing as she mowed a crooked path.
He shook his head. If working with her was always this much fun, he was in big trouble.
Chapter Five
Seth
Later that night, after the yard was mowed, edged, and mostly weeded, and the two of them were worn to the point where talking took too much energy, Seth ushered Evie inside. She dragged her feet going up the three stairs to the front door. Her suitcase sat in the same spot where she’d left it earlier.
A sense of shame washed over him. “I’m so sorry. I should have thought this whole day through more.” What a wedding day failure.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He shouldered his own duffel bag and pulled open the screen door. “It’s our wedding day.” Heat flooded his face. “I mean, we should be celebrating or something, not getting grass stains on our knees.”
She glanced down at her clothing. Covered in green and brown stains, and a few weed stems, she was disheveled and work-worn. To his surprise, when she lifted her chin, there was a smile on her face. “I can’t think of a more appropriate way to start this journey together.”
“You’re going to need to expound on that one.” He bumbled his way in, trying to manage his bag and the screen and wooden doors, which both seemed to want to close him between them.
She set her bag just to the right of the door and brushed off her hands as she looked around. “This will be a life of work—so working together on our ho-home is a great start.”
He didn’t miss the way she stumbled over the wordhome. As brave as she appeared, she was still worried, maybe scared about how this was all going to turn out. And she hadn’t touched him since the wedding. Not that he expected her to be all over him or anything, but she’d almost touched him several times and then backed off. That fact that he felt the distance between them made him wonder if he was being too sensitive. There was just something about Evie that had him aware of things he wasn’t normally. Like his heart rate. It kicked up over and over again this afternoon.
His laugh. He’d never paid much attention to it, but he’d caught himself laughing out loud several times today. Each time, he’d noticed and marveled at the pure joy that had blossomed inside of him. And it was all because of Evie.
A strong need to provide for her filled his chest. He couldn’t very well rub her shoulders or draw her a warm bath. An idea hit, and he brightened, because there was something he could do. “I’m going to order pizza. Any requests?”
“I’ll eat anything.” Her eyes grew wide and she glanced quickly away. “I mean, I’m not picky.”
He lightly touched her arm, drawing her eyes back to him. With all sincerity, he said, “I truly don’t deserve you.”
Her eyebrows came together. “Because I don’t have a pizza preference?” she asked.
He nodded. “A lifetime of not arguing over pizzas or ordering half this and half that—is a blessed life indeed.”
She broke into a grin. “You have mighty low standards for a preacher.”
He chuckled. There she went again, giving him a hard time in a way that made him feel like he was in a bubble, floating through the house.
The interior wasn’t as bad as the yard. There was fresh paint in the living room, and the wood floors, though covered in a thin coat of dust, were in good shape. He pulled out his phone and placed the order. “We’re in luck. They said they’d be here within fifteen minutes.”
She stretched her arms over her head and smiled.
“What?”
“I’ve never met a pastor who considered themselves lucky.”
He shrugged. “You never married one before either—today is all about firsts.”
They explored the house together, finding three bedrooms—one of which had been turned into a home office. There were two baths, one in the hallway and one in the master bedroom. The rooms were small but furnished, which was great, because everything he owned fit in his car.
