overhead lights flicked on, illuminating a wide hallway. Hardwood floors, creamy walls, bulletin boards filled with announcements and pictures. The homey warmth of it drew her in and welcomed her.
Chloe turned, facing Ben, seeing him clearly for the first time, her heart leaping as she looked into the most vividly blue eyes she’d ever seen. Deep sapphire, they burned into hers, glowing with life, with energy, with an interest that made Chloe step back, the box clutched close, a flimsy barrier between herself and the man who’d done what no other had in the past year—made her want to keep looking, made her want to know more, made her wish she were the woman she’d been before Adam’s death.
His gaze touched her face, the scar on her neck, the mottled flesh of her hand, but he didn’t comment or ask the questions so many people felt they had the right to. “The sanctuary is through here. Let’s bring these in. Then I’ll make some coffee before we get the rest from the van.”
Chloe followed silently, surprised by her response to Ben and not happy about it. She’d made too many mistakes with Adam, had too many regrets. There wasn’t room for anything else. Or anyone.
“Where do you want these?” Ben’s question pulled her from her thoughts and she glanced around the large room. Rows of pews, their dark wood gleaming in the overhead light, flanked a middle aisle. A few stairs led to a pulpit and a choir loft, a small door to one side of them closed tight.
“On the first pew will be fine. I’ll start there and work my way back.” She avoided looking in Ben’s direction as she spoke, preferring to tell herself she’d imagined the bright blue of his eyes, the warm interest there. He was a pastor, after all, and she was a woman who had no interest in men.
“Am I making you nervous?”
Startled, Chloe glanced up, found herself pulled into his gaze again.
“No.” At least not much. “Why do you ask?”
“Sometimes my job makes people uncomfortable.” He smiled, his sandy hair and strong, handsome face giving him a boy-next-door appearance that seemed at odds with the intensity in his eyes.
“Not me.” Though Ben seemed to be having that effect on her.
“Good to know.” He smiled again, but his gaze speared into hers and she wondered what he was seeing as he looked so deeply into her eyes. “And just so we’re clear. Florists don’t make me uncomfortable.”
Despite herself, Chloe smiled. “Then I guess that means we’ll both be nice and relaxed while we work.”
“Not until we have some coffee. I don’t know about you, but I’m not much good for anything until I’ve had a cup.”
His words were the perfect excuse to end the conversation and move away from Ben, and Chloe started back toward the sanctuary door, anxious to refocus her thinking, recenter her thoughts. “I’ll keep unloading while you make some.”
Ben put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her before she could exit the room. “If the rest of the boxes are as heavy as the last one, maybe you should make the coffee and I should unload.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You will be, but I won’t if Opal finds out I let you carry in a bunch of heavy boxes while I made coffee.”
“Who’s going to tell her?”
“I’d feel obligated to. After all, she’s bound to ask how things went and I’m bound to tell the truth.”
For the second time since she’d met Ben, Chloe found herself smiling at his words. Not good. Not good at all. Men were bad news. At least all the men in Chloe’s life had been. The sooner she put distance between herself and Ben, the better she’d feel. “Since you put it that way, I guess I can’t argue.”
“Glad to hear it, because arguing isn’t getting me any closer to having that cup of coffee. Come on, I’ll show you to the kitchen.” He strode out of the sanctuary, moving with long, purposeful strides.
Chloe followed more slowly, not sure what it was about Ben that had sparked her interest and made her want to look closer. He was a man, just like any other man she’d ever known, but there was something in his eyes—secrets, depths—that begged exploration.
Fortunately, she’d learned her lesson about men the hard way and she had no intention of learning any more. She’d just get through the wedding preparations, get through the day, then go back to her apartment and forget Ben Avery and his compelling gaze.
TWO
The industrial-size kitchen had a modern feel with a touch of old-time charm, the stainless steel counters and appliances balanced by mellow gold paint, white cabinets and hardwood floor. Chloe hovered in the doorway, wary, unsure of herself in a way she hadn’t been a year ago, watching as Ben plugged in a coffeemaker and pulled a can of coffee from a cupboard. He gestured her over and Chloe stepped into the room ignoring the erratic beat of her heart. “This is a nice space.”
“Yeah, it is, but I can’t take credit. We remodeled a couple of years ago. The church ladies decided on the setup and color scheme. Opal pretty much spearheaded the project.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. She’s a take-charge kind of person. It’s one of the things I admire about her.”
“Have you known her long?” He leaned a hip against the counter, relaxed and at ease. Apparently not at all disturbed by the fact that he’d been called out of bed before dawn on a cool November day to help a woman he didn’t know set up flowers for a wedding he was probably officiating.
Strange.
Interesting.
Intriguing.
Enough!
Chloe rubbed the scarred flesh on her wrist, forcing her thoughts back to the conversation. “Since I was a kid.”
“You grew up in Lakeview?” His gaze was disconcerting, and Chloe resisted the urge to look away.
“No, I visited in the summer.” She didn’t add more. The past was something she didn’t share. Especially not with strangers.
Ben seemed to take the hint, turning away and pulling sugar packets from a cupboard. “It’s a good place to spend the summer. And the fall, winter and spring.” He smiled. “There’s cream in the fridge if you take it. I’d better get moving on those boxes.”
With that he strode from the room, his movements lithe and silent, almost catlike in their grace. He might be a pastor now, but Chloe had a feeling he’d been something else before he’d felt a call to ministry. Military. Police. Firefighter. Something that required control, discipline and strength.
Not that it mattered or was any of her business.
Chloe shook her head, reaching for a coffee filter and doing her best to concentrate on the task at hand. Obviously, the nightmare had thrown her off, destroying her focus and hard-won control. She needed to get both back and she needed to do it now. Opal was counting on her. There was no way she planned to disappoint the one person in her life who had never disappointed her.
She
