Page 66 of A Surefire Love
Was it safe to trust him with her heart?
Anson watchedthe war play out in Blaze’s eyes. He’d already said all he could to convey his sincerity and convince her to see herself his way. The Lord would have to do the rest. The transformation wouldn’t happen in a moment, but what better place for her to take a step forward than on an autumn afternoon in her kitchen, the scent of chocolate from his ill-fated cookies floating on the air?
She folded her fingers tighter around his hand, and he had to look to make sure he hadn’t imagined it. His attention raced back to her face. She lifted her chin. Her lashes fluttered closed.
Victory sailed through him. He tugged her hand, and she tipped closer, free hand braced at his side as he lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips were soft and full and—
She leaned back, creating a sliver of space.
He clenched his teeth against groaning a complaint. He opened his eyes to find her studying him. He wanted to promise her that she was safe, but his thick throat kept him silent. It was hard enough to school his ragged breath as his heartbeat rocked his chest. He waited, forehead against hers, fingers on the smooth, warm skin of her neck. The hair he’d tucked behind her ear tickled his thumb.
Her head carefully still, as though to issue no accidental encouragement, her brown eyes peered into his. “You mean all that?”
“And more.”
Her exhale brushed his chin. Trust settled in her eyes, and instead of fighting the rush of satisfaction, he relished every detail from her chiffon skin and floral scent to the way her breathing deepened and slowed.
He nuzzled her cheek, and she tilted her head. The fringe of her lashes eased to her cheeks as her eyes closed. This time, when their lips touched, she melted into him. If she was an inspiration on stage, in his arms, she was an epiphany. He was no artist at expressing himself the way she was, so he poured as much of “and more” as he could into each move and breath and touch.
When he broke the kiss, he brushed his fingers over her hair. Looking into the depths of her eyes, he swallowed so he could speak. “And even more.”
25
Blaze squirmed on the couch in the youth room, feeling every bit like a girl who’d had her braces removed and was waiting for her friends to notice. The change between her and Anson was so obvious to her that she couldn’t believe no one had commented on it.
The Rooted leaders’ meeting gave her the perfect excuse to ogle him. His dress pants and black button-down complemented his athletic musculature. Or was her brain simply filling in details about his build gleaned from her time wrapped up in his arms? She once considered his mouth irritatingly close to perfect. Now that he’d kissed her, she could confirm—his lips were, indeed, perfect. But irritating? Hardly.
“For our next series, I’d like to have adults from the church share their testimonies. I think it’ll help bring home some of the things we’ve been talking about this semester.”
She nodded along. If Anson’s acceptance amazed her, then God’s was so far beyond her comprehension she’d never understand what saving her had cost Him and sparedher. Healing had started the morning she turned her life over to Him, and she loved stories of grace interrupting people’s lives. Loved their victories. She still had a long way to go, and their stories gave her hope that the best was yet to come. “Who are you going to ask to talk?”
“I thought we’d keep it in-house, at least for this semester.”
“In-house?” She shot a glance at Nolan, hoping he looked as clueless as she felt.
Anson drew a circle with his pointer finger, including the three of them. “I’ll go first to set the pace, then I’d like it if each of you would take a week.”
Dread reverberated through her core. He wanted her to shareherstory?
“Sure,” Nolan said. “If you think it’ll help. Mine’s pretty straightforward, though. I was in middle school, so it’s relevant in that way, but I’m not sure it’ll take a whole lesson to share.”
“You can talk about your walk with Christ since your initial decision too. Your stories could help show them it’s a lifelong relationship, not a one-time rite of passage.”
Nolan nodded, and Anson’s gaze settled on her, eyebrows lifted.
“Um.” She smoothed her skirt. “I’m not sure I’ve really arrived at a point where my story would be helpful to the kids. I’m kind of the opposite. A long story before I got saved, and not all of it is middle-school appropriate.”
“You don’t have to mention anything you’re not comfortable with. The goal is to tell about whatGod’sdone rather than whatyou’vedone. I trust you both, but if either of you want to run your testimony by me before you share it with the kids, my door’s open. I’ll give mine this week, then Nolanthe week after.” He consulted his phone, presumably checking the calendar. “Blaze, that would put you the following Wednesday. Does that work?”
“Okay.” She eyed the lectern where Anson stood so comfortably. She would take him up on the offer to review her testimony before she gave it. A narrative took shape in her mind, too long and complex to type on her phone. Hopefully she could remember the parts she liked when she got home.
The couch shifted as Nolan rose. Anson stuffed his phone in his pocket and picked up his Bible and notes. She snagged her purse and jacket, then stood.
As Nolan left, Anson stepped up beside her. “What are your lunch plans?”
She warmed, and she hadn’t even slipped into her coat yet. “Just headed home for soup and sandwiches.” She slid her arm into one of her coat sleeves and juggled her purse as she twisted to find the other sleeve.
Anson moved behind her and held the coat for her. “You and Mercy?” He settled the coat over her shoulders and ran his hands down her arms before stepping away.
