Page 44 of Wishes on Wildflowers
Jasmine pushed the laminated menu card into its wire slot. “Fine, then. Since you know so much about me.”
“I like you predictable.”
She grimaced. “Basil calls me an old woman.”
Nathan caressed her fingers with his own. “He’s very, very wrong.” Eight years had matured her face, enhancing her beauty. Still slightly built, she looked just as terrific in tank tops and shorts as she did tonight in a mossy green fitted tee and jeans.
Jasmine met his gaze, only to be interrupted as the waitress took their order.
Those velvety chocolate eyes — man, he could sink in them all evening. “I can’t believe we’re here. Like this.”
A train rumbled by behind the diner. Outside the arch-top window, traffic on West Second came to a stop, and cars zipped northbound through the intersection along South Walnut, where they’d dip under the tracks. Just a few blocks from Bridgeview, the opulent diner seemed another world. A world where his internal sunshine seemed as strong as the glow outside.
She shook her head, a small smile poking at her lips. “I’m still a bit torn between ‘I can’t believe this is real’ and ‘I’m not sure this is a good idea.’”
A wispy cloud came between him and the sun. “I know it’s a good idea.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’ve been praying about it.” His thumbs stroked hers. “About mending our relationship. Have you?”
Jasmine gave a small nod, her gaze sliding from his to land on their hands entwined on the glossy wood table. “I’m still a bit worried, though. What if we have another fight? What if you leave again?”
“I’m not going anywhere. Spokane is home. I’ve got enough leads and actual clients already to believe I can finda solid niche here and grow my business.”
She glanced at him. “I’m happy for you.”
Nathan tapped her knuckles. “I notice you haven’t asked for my input on marketing your massage therapy clinic.”
“I don’t want to grow it. I want out.”
Hadn’t she once dreamed of doing this? No, wait. She’d planned to become a physical therapist. “Why did you settle for massage when that wasn’t your dream?”
Jasmine chewed on her lip for so long he was certain she’d change the subject rather than reply. “I needed off the campus of Gonzaga U. Everything reminded me of you, and I couldn’t handle it.” Her eyes no longer radiated the anger he’d seen a couple of months before, but traces of frustration remained.
“I’m sorry I hurt you so much.”
“How could you do that to me? We had so much going for us.”
Their food came at that moment, saving Nathan from making a hasty reply. “Let me ask the blessing.”
At her slight nod, he recaptured her hand across the table and bowed his head. “Father God, thank You for this food and for this time Jasmine and I can spend together. I pray You will guide our conversation and show us Your will for our future. We ask for Your grace to forgive each other as You have forgiven us. Thank You. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Her hands trembled as she forked a bite of steaming turkey from its artisan bread bowl.
Okay, so she wanted him to answer that question, but hadn’t he already, the other day? “You were far more mature than I was, even though you’re two years younger. You scared me back then, Jasmine. My family was a mess, and I was terrified I would let you down.”
“So you did it on purpose.”
Nathan hadn’t thought of it quite that way before. “I guess so.” He swirled the gravy through his mashed potatoes. “I don’t quite know how to put this. I’m not sorry I left. I needed to grow up. I’m sorry about how it happened and that I wasn’t upfront with you. And I’m definitely sorry about many of the things I did after I moved away. I was little more than a kid, Jasmine. I couldn’t face the future you’d planned out for us. Not then.”
“You were twenty-one, not a kid. Marco was married at twenty-two.”
“Marco was raised by your parents, not by Pops and wives one through three. He’d been taught how to be a man. I had no clue.”
She stabbed a carrot.
“Jasmine?”
