Page 55 of To Bring You Back
She texted Asher and focused on Gannon. He’d shed his jacket and taken a seat on the picnic table, feet on the bench, elbows on his knees.
“Photographers are waiting at the truck. Asher said to take the day off.”
He sighed heavily. “I’m sure they’re at your house too. I’m sorry.”
Her nerves threatened to raise her voice an octave as she searched for a way to admit everything he’d helped her realize this morning. “Maybe it’s like you said. Maybe the press and the stories they write aren’t the worst things.”
He hadn’t shaved that morning, and coarseness marked his jaw. Still, he was fit for a photoshoot. Nothing could mute the golden-brown ring at the center of his blue-green irises. “And what would be?”
“Maybe a new fear doesn’t have to replace the old one.”
His hazel eyes followed her as she sat beside him.
Her vision flitted away from his face. His short sleeves revealed the mysterious characters on the inside of his left forearm.
She tilted her head. “I’ve been meaning to ask about that.”
He glanced at the tattoo. “Hebrew. Psalm 51:14. Basically says, ‘Forgive me for the blood I’ve shed, and I’ll sing of your righteousness.’ Got it after Fitz died.”
More confirmation she’d been unduly hard on him. She longed to reach out to him, but could she just do that? Touch him? After everything?
The air flashed with lightning, and a few seconds later, thunder reverberated like a falling drum. The trees that surrounded the shelter swished with rain and wind.
“I almost didn’t go to his grave this morning,” she said. “Next time I’m home, I don’t think I will.” The admission took almost as much courage as touching his arm would’ve. “Up until now, I’ve gone each time.”
Gannon brought his gaze in from the greenery to study her face. His mouth hinted at a smile before his line of sight roved back to the trees. “That’s quite a change.”
“It’s because of what you said about us being forgiven and free. And my mom said something this morning about life being short and did I want to spend it with the living or the dead.”
“And you chose the living.” He checked her expression.
“I did. I do.” She straightened her fingers, meaning to touch his forearm after all, but he stood.
At the edge of the shelter, he stopped with his back to her. “That’s good news. A good choice.”
He didn’t understand what she’d meant, and was she sure, absolutely sure, she wanted this? A romance with Gannon Vaughn? She’d glimpsed his life, the fans, the photographers, the constant attention. But that storm didn’t scare her as much after what she’d seen at the grave that morning. She’d thought him blind to the consequences of their sin. He wasn’t, and he had freedom she wanted for herself. Freedom that said they could be together.
The rain eased as her heartbeat increased.
She longed to enjoy a relationship with him.
But she’d been burying her feelings for him for so long, she felt helplessly exposed at the thought of revealing her change of heart. Paralyzing fear told her the possibility of a future together was too good to be true. She couldn’t say how disaster would come about, but in the shadows, she saw the vague shapes of possibilities. He’d reject her. God would determine she didn’t deserve this happiness. She’d make another mistake and end up more broken.
But this time would be different. Right?
She played possibilities in her mind so long, the rain let up entirely.
When she realized a good twenty minutes had passed in silence, she rubbed her cheeks, embarrassed. Even if she couldn’t know the future and didn’t know how to proceed with Gannon, she could’ve made normal conversation.
Of course, he could’ve too. What had he been thinking that whole time, staring off into the woods so quietly for so long?
A minivan exited the highway and splashed through puddles in the gravel lot. It stopped beside the shelter, and the doors slid open. A kid jumped from the van to the gravel.
Gannon grabbed his coat. “We need to get moving.”
The family lined up along the edge of the concrete slab, holding what must’ve been their lunches, waiting for Gannon to get his motorcycle back where it belonged. She turned to find Gannon already seated on the bike.
In Lakeshore, he pulled over a few blocks from her house. “Sorry, but it’s best if you walk from here. Cut through the backyards, and maybe they won’t get a shot of you.”
