Page 87 of The Dating Game

“Oh really?” I raise an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“Let’s see.” His hand falls from my face, coming instead to rest on my back. A moment later his other slides around my waist to meet it, holding me in place. “I was going to start interrupting dates to call my mom.”

I laugh. “You know I think I’d like to meet your mom, maybe then I can be the one calling her in the middle of our dates.” He chuckles as his hands start to trace a path up and down my back.

“That can definitely be arranged.” His thumbs brush against my shoulder blades, left bare by my racerback tank top.

“Anything else?” I ask a little breathlessly.

“Oh yes.” He smirks, like he knows exactly the effect he’s having on me. I don’t care. His hands on my skin feel too good. “I was going to start incorporating water into your nicknames. It makes sense with your name being Brooke and you loving water…I thought I’d call you things like River or Creek or H2O.”

“Okay, that’s actually kind of cute,” I interject, but the words die out as he bends down and places a kiss on the edge of my jaw, right below my ear—stealing my breath again.

“I thinkyou’recute, H2O,” he whispers against my skin, sending a rush of heat through me. Enough talking. We should be kissing. “Which actually brings to mind the last thing on my list of things to scare you away,” he goes on, his lips brushing a spot further down my jawline.

“Mmmm?” I murmur, only half-listening.

“Excessive complimenting,” he says before continuing his path down my jaw with his mouth. “Going overboard with the flattery can be a real turnoff,” he expounds. “How annoying would it be to have to constantly listen to me tell you how beautiful I think you are,” another kiss, “or hear me say over and over again that I think you’re an incredibly gifted dancer,” two kisses, one right on the corner of my mouth, teasing me with its proximity, “or that you’re funny, kind, amazing in so many ways,” kiss, kiss, kiss—kiss me on the mouth already, dang it! “How annoying would that be?” he asks, his lips only a hare's breath away from mine.

“So annoying,” I agree, my voice strangled and desperate.

“Shoot, I guess you’ll just have to get used to it then,” he replies, “because I’m not sure I can keep myself quiet when it comes to singingyour praises.” Then finally,finallyhe presses his lips to mine and, just like the day we met, I’m free falling all over again. Weightless, detached from gravity, held up by a parachute of love.

Okay, and heated attraction. Because my goodness the man can kiss. There are fireworks exploding inside me which seems a little dangerous given that I could swear I’m airborne.

Eh, worth it.

He deepens the kiss, pulling me closer. I let my hands drift from around his neck to the muscles of his shoulders. My fingers trace each ridge of his back and a hum of pleasure rumbles through him. With a groan that conveys his frustration at having to show restraint he steps back, breathing hard.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you, Brooke?” he asks in between breaths. I can’t stop my smile. I’ve never felt so wanted. And the best part is, I don’t just mean physically wanted. Will makes me feel like he wants all of me. Flaws and all.

His gaze hitches on my smile and he lets out another groan. “Seriously, no idea,” he repeats, rubbing a hand over his face. “Every kiss with you makes me feel as if I’m on the edge of losing control.”

Despite the fact that his words create a swirl of desire low in my belly, I know we need to be careful. We’re out in the open right now, so I’m not too worried about getting carried away, but in order to honor God’s design of sexual purity before marriage, there's a precedent we need to set with kissing. If either of us needs a break to cool down, we take it.

With that in mind I take a step away from him. “So let’s take a walk,” I suggest, but then pause as my foot kicks something. I look down. It’s the water bottle Will brought.

“Oh right.” He bends down to scoop it up. “I brought this for you,” he says, proffering me the bottle. “Sydney said you tookoff running, so I thought you might be thirsty.” He looks a little sheepish as he adds, “It sounds stupid now, and it’s not really much of a grand gesture, but I had this plan to prove how sincere my feelings for you were by presenting it to you. You know, to show you that I meant what I said about being your Culligan man. But things didn’t exactly go as planned.”

I step back toward him and take the water bottle from him, my eyes on his the whole time. “Will Barrett,” I say, letting my hand brush his—note to self: still have that hand brushing club to get started—“that is perhaps the sweetest gesture anyone has ever made for me. Besides, I’m a simple girl, some may even call me boring, so a grand gesture is not my style. I’m more of a-thousand-little-things type of person, and you continue to show me over and over again that you want to create those precious moments with me. Which is only one of the many reasons that I fell in love with you despite my fear and all of my best efforts not to.”

Will grins, and his hands rise up to hold mine over the water bottle. It’s even better than the hand brushing thing. Club rules may need to be amended to reflect this. “You, Brooke Garza,” he says firmly, “are not boring. You’ve been keeping me on my toes since the day I met you. I never could get you off my mind. When I saw you at Twist and Shout I thought it might be fate, which is probably why I took the bet thing so hard. It wounded my pride. But it also brought me to the feet of Jesus. Dancing with you in that salsa club, I realized that I’d elevated my pride to an unhealthy place, letting it guide my actions instead of Jesus. So that night I laid my pride down and decided to stop messing with you. I’m really sorry that I ever started that whole thing to begin with.”

“You’resorry?I’mthe one who should be sorry,” I say, all of my indignation over his behavior gone as I face my own poor decisions.My own sin. “I never should’ve involved you in such a silly bet, and I should’ve told you about everything once I started developing real feelings for you. I don’t mean this as an excuse or anything, but part of what held me back was fear. I got hurt once before by a guy, and I swear I’d never let myself get close enough to someone again. Then I met you, and it became clear pretty quickly that losing you would hurt far more than losing him ever did. I knew if I told you that I would lose you…so I just kept delaying telling you. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Will smiles tenderly down at me. “I already have.” He sweeps a hand across my cheek. “You know from my story that God has had to teach me a lot about forgiveness over the years, and maybe part of the reason for that was you.”

“Because He knew you’d have to be a pretty forgiving person to be able to put up with me?” I quip—though I’m only half-joking.

Will breathes out a disbelieving laugh. “Uh, no. Not at all. More like, because God is generous enough to not want my own hardness of heart to prevent me from receiving the amazing gift He gave me when He brought you into my life. Forgiving you may have initially been harder to do because of the way I feel about you, but once I did, I felt anew the significance of God’s mercy on me. Forgiving you and needing your forgiveness brought me a fresh sense of wonder about how much God loves me. And really, above anything else, what I am looking for in a woman is someone who will help me grow closer to God. And I hope in turn that I can do the same for her. That together we can grow towards God.”

I suck in a breath. “Oh, Will,” I whisper, “I want that too.” I place my hands on his chest. “You need to know that the only reason I needed a bet to date you was because I never would have gone out with you otherwise,” I tell him earnestly. “I was tooscared of how much I already liked you, and I didn’t want to wind up getting hurt. But then I started falling even more for you, and I didn’t know what to do. That was when I realized I hadn’t been paying attention at all to whatGodwould want me to do.Youhelped me realize that actually. After our conversation earlier this week, I started really praying and being intentional with God because of your push to do so. So, you see? You too have already helped me grow closer to God.”

He shakes his head in wonder. “It’s amazing what God can do with our mistakes, isn’t it? We both acted in ways that were displeasing to Him, but once we turned from those things He graciously gifted us with each other.”

“He made beauty from ashes,” I say around a new influx of tears.

Will nods, his own eyes lined with tears as he says, “Beauty from ashes—now there’s a grand gesture.”

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