Page 63 of Chasing Xander
She glanced down at herself, then back up at him. “Thank you.”
“Well, I should probably get ready, too. We have to be at the church in an hour, right? You don’t mind if I shower, do you?”
“Wait. What? You’re going to the funeral with me?” Her tone was full of disbelief.
Was she serious? “I planned on it. Unless you don’t want me to…”
“No, I do. I just didn’t think you’d want to.” She reached out and touched his arm. “It would mean a lot to have you there.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
“Towels are in the top cabinet in the bathroom. Just holler if you need anything else.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and ran her tongue over her bottom lip.
“Thank you.” His heart constricted, and he fought to take a breath. God, he wanted her. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms, carry her to her room, lie her down on the bed, and show her exactly what being near her did to him. He wanted to make her feel things she’d never felt before, make her forget about the loss of her grandmother, make all her pain disappear. But the things he wanted to do to her, to her body, weren’t exactly fit for a virgin, which is exactly why he had to keep his distance. He swallowed hard and nodded as he headed upstairs.
Chapter Twenty
Kylie got out of the car and stopped. She swallowed hard and stared at the large, brick church looming in front of her. The second she walked through those doors, all of this would become real. She’d never see Nammy Joyce again after today. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she shook her head, her body frozen.
“Ky?” Xander touched her shoulder, snapping her out of her daze. “You okay?”
She sniffled and nodded, knowing she couldn’t speak without losing her composure. He slid his hand down her arm and then laced their fingers together. The sweet gesture made her breath catch, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from sobbing.
With a slight nod, she took the first step toward the church. He gave her hand a gentle but firm squeeze. Without him, she never would’ve made it inside. There was a line of people waiting to pay their respects at the open casket. She needed to see Nammy Joyce one final time, to sear her image into her mind so she’d never forget the only person in the world to truly love and care for her. But how could she say good-bye? How could she acknowledge that the woman she loved more than her own parents was gone?
Xander held her hand as they waited in line. Several people she barely knew approached her with condolences. She smiled and nodded and thanked them. And before she knew it, before she was ready, she stood in front of her grandmother’s casket. Nammy Joyce looked exactly the same as Kylie remembered: short, silver-gray hair curled around her face; high cheekbones and a thin, slightly crooked nose. But the life, the fight, the spirit of the woman Kylie loved was long gone, and this person in front of her was nothing more than a shell, a placeholder.
She took one look and turned her head, burying her face against Xander’s chest. “I can’t do this,” she mumbled.
“Okay,” he whispered and turned her away from the casket. He led her to the first pew and sat, his hand still entwined with hers.
“Kylie?”
She glanced up into the friendly, familiar face of Sheriff Rick. He was dressed in uniform, his hat clutched in front of him. “Rick.” She stood and gave him a hug.
“I’m so sorry, hon.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you were able to make it.”
He gave a quick nod. “Your grandmother was a wonderful woman. She’s going to be missed.”
“She is.” She shifted on her feet. “Rick, this is Xander Collins, a close friend from college.”
Xander stood and extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise.” Rick shook Xander’s hand and then patted Kylie’s shoulder. “Be sure to let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“I will. Thanks.” When he walked away, she sat back down. Kylie stared straight ahead, fighting to hold back her tears. There were a lot of people here she knew and equally as many she didn’t. But the one person who should be here wasn’t. And she would bet anything he was out getting drunk. What kind of man would rather be in a bar than paying respects to his own mother? Her stomach lurched, and she cupped her hand over her mouth. She could see it all now—Dad would stumble into the church in the middle of the service, drunk and belligerent, screaming about things that had happened years ago, things that no longer mattered. He’d yell that his own mother had kicked him out of the house. He’d point his finger at Kylie, accuse her of stealing Nammy Joyce’s love from him, something he’d done numerous times before. Then he’d pick a fight. Well, if he tried, at least Sheriff Rick was here to help.
Closing her eyes, she drew a shaky breath.Dear God, please don’t let my father ruin this day. You’ve taken Nammy Joyce from me, don’t make me suffer any more.She twisted in the pew and looked toward the doors, which were being closed by two pall bearers. Kylie let out a small sigh of relief. Maybe he’d get so drunk he’d pass out and forget all about the funeral. Her brief encounter with him earlier was enough to last her the rest of her life.
Pastor Bruce walked to the front of the church, and the crowd quieted. He opened with a prayer that she wasn’t familiar with, but the words were beautiful. “Joyce Jane Quinn lived a long and fulfilling life. I had the pleasure of speaking with her days before she passed. It was one of her more lucid moments, and we spoke at length about what she wanted to happen the day she went to meet our Lord and how she wanted to be remembered. She was certainly a woman with a lot of fight in her.”
The crowd chuckled softly, and Kylie managed a small smile. Nammy Joyce was the most direct, tell-it-like-it-is person she had ever known.
“She made it clear she didn’t want today to be a day of sadness, but rather a celebration,” Pastor Bruce continued. “A celebration of great love. Joyce found the love of her life when she was sixteen. Hank Edward Quinn.”
Kylie’s lips trembled at the mention of her grandfather. She’d never had the chance to get to know him, but she’d heard enough stories and seen enough pictures to feel like she did. The way Nammy Joyce had always spoken of her late husband, the undying love and admiration and respect, made Kylie dream of finding a love as strong as theirs. She glanced at Xander, and her heart broke even more.
