He admired her beauty . . . inside and out. They strolled the rest of the way to her door. At the threshold, he lowered his lips within inches of hers and ran his hand down her shoulder. What was happening? He wanted nothing more than to feel her lips on his.
JD's heart rocketed out of his chest. To explore her mouth, kiss her forehead, her chin, her upper lip then her lower, then her neck … A groan caught in his throat. He had to stop before he got lost in desire.
She parted her lips. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and her minty breath tickled his chin.
His muddled thoughts refused to clear even after he shook his head. Kissing her would complicate his life no matter how much he longed to. The hurt look in her eyes tugged at his heart when he trudged back to his truck. From his rearview mirror, he watched her until she faded from sight.
At home, he parked, turned off the engine, and covered his face. A silent voice somewhere in his mind delivered the warning. He'd created a problem he'd have to contend with.
Tonight he'd relaxed in her company and strolled the booths, forgetting all about his objections to a romantic relationship with her. In Joella's presence, he didn't have to pretend to be someone else—a person who had to prove his worthiness. Her message was clear—she accepted him … and Glorilyn, unconditionally.
But now his heart ached. He'd tried to stay away from her. When he'd returned the scarf, hadn't he resisted the urge to ask her out and walked away from New Trend? He would've never called again, but she brought the brownies to the office, and he convinced himself they could merely be friends.
He rubbed his neck, not wanting to admit the truth, but for the first time in his life, someone tampered with his heart. Yeah, he refrained from the kiss. But reality glared at him. He had to see her again, if nothing more than to bask in the peace that emanated from her.
A shiver ran down his spine. Neither his father nor the church would approve.
JD took the elevator to his apartment carrying a lead weight. He opened the door and sank down on his couch, picking up the volume he read every morning before work, The Book of Wisdom of the Exalted Brethren.
Chapter Eight
Joella's day-planner popped up on the screen. Hmm. The Burchett home visit this afternoon at five-thirty. She still had a moment before time to leave. The red roses from Dale Burchett sat on the side table. Why didn't he include his wife's name on the card? Joella picked up the note again. For the most creative designer in El Camino. Dale Burchett.
After her first meeting with the couple, she'd patted herself on the back. Both liked her ideas for the living room remodel, though Mr. Burchett seemed more enthusiastic than his wife.
Joella opened the page with their client information. They made a $2,000 down payment. Serious customers. Initial deposits were non-refundable at New Trend. Now for the next step—take measurements, check out the existing furniture, and get an idea about accessories.
It didn't take long for her to change her opinion of the personal injury lawyer—from a competent professional to an egotistic windbag. After listening to success stories about his law firm and triumphs in court, she'd lost patience. His wife had probably felt the same. The woman had folded her arms over her chest, pressed her lips together, and kicked her foot in rapid tempo.
Joella's notes indicated that the Burchetts resided in P1 at Villa Allegre. Not surprising that the flashy attorney had purchased one of the penthouses in the ritzy high rise.
Joella's tape measure lay in the top drawer near some of the Home and Garden brochures. She'd learned a lot at the event visiting booth after booth, but memories of the rest of the evening reeled into her thoughts. Glorilyn. JD's sweet little sister endured those awkward teenage years. Joella had dealt with confusion about God at that age, too.
Prayers that the girl would find a closer relationship with the Lord occupied her thoughts almost every day. Last night she'd even prayed for JD. Poor guy. He seemed so frustrated with his sibling.
But JD wasn't the only one. What happened or rather didn't happen on her front porch disappointed her. His parted lips, so close they'd almost touched hers, caused her to long for his kiss all the more. She couldn't deny her growing attraction to him.
Why hadn't he kissed her? Maybe his Christian values spoke to him … told him to slow down. She scrunched her nose. Turning away from the romantic moment was probably best. They needed to become better acquainted first. She shouldn't fall for a guy she barely knew. Even if he was the wittiest and most handsome man she'd ever met. Listening to reason made a lot more sense than obeying her heart, but it didn't soothe the hurt of rejection.
Her ringing cell brought her back. Might be Mom asking her to pick up something on her way home. She glanced at the caller ID and cleared her throat. With a deep breath, she tried to still her elevated pulse. "Hi, there."
For a few moments she heard silence. "Hey, JD?"
"I'm sorry, Joella. I … er, I got distracted. I'm getting hungry. I mean, I'm calling to see if I could take you to dinner tonight."
What was going on? JD sounded nervous. Maybe a hard day had stressed him out. "That sounds great. I've got an appointment at five-thirty, but I could make it after that." Her chance to become better acquainted with him arrived sooner than she'd anticipated. Nothing she'd rather do than share a meal with JD tonight. Did that thought come from her heart or her head?
"Okay. Do you want to call me when you're finished and we can meet? How about trying Café Romagna? Their Italian food is excellent, from what I hear."
"Great. It should only take about an hour. And dinner tonight is still my treat."
"I don't know about that." His soft chuckle said he wanted to treat her.
"How's Glorilyn?" Joella pulled a notebook out of the drawer and set it on the desk.
"I talked to her Sunday. I think you made a good impression."
"She's a sweet girl, JD. She's been in my prayers every morning." Joella picked up a crumpled piece of paper on the floor next to the trash can and tossed it in.
A few beats of silence ticked by. "That's great." He coughed. "I'll see you soon."
Joella settled back in her chair and closed her eyes. JD's face waltzed into her mind, his mischievous blue eyes, his alluring smile, his clean shaven skin.
The clock told her she'd better pay attention to the time. Notebook, tape measure, paint and carpet samples, and sketches fit into her leather briefcase. Best to leave now so she wouldn't have to hurry.
Waving to Shelly, Joella headed out the back entrance. With the sun still high above the horizon, she had plenty of daylight left. A clump of colorful hyacinths, petunias, and poppies grew in the yard across the street.
She tossed her briefcase on the passenger seat and backed out of the parking lot.
Ten blocks north led to Villa Allegre. The stucco and brick high-rise occupied an entire block. She locked the Bronco and strolled into the lobby. A soft green couch sat along the front window next to a fichus tree. It'd be nice to sit down and relax but her cell phone said five twenty-five.
At the elevators across the hall, she pressed up, and the doors slid open. Inside, P1 appeared on the brass plate.
On the tenth floor, the elevator opened to a large space carpeted in light beige Berber. A walnut table straight ahead held a silk sunflower and fern arrangement in an aged brown planter.
Hard to believe the entire floor consisted of two penthouses. An arrow under P1 on a brass plate pointed to the right. Down the hall about twenty feet, a door plaque read Mr. and Mrs. Dale Burchett. Excited about a new design challenge, she lifted her finger to the doorbell.
Mr. Burchett opened the door, a wine glass in his hand. "Hello, Joella. Thanks for coming."
She followed him into the stately living room. High ceilings and hardwood floors created ambiance, yet the furnishings needed a remodel. A dull brown leather couch and matching loveseat had to go. Yellow walls with no pictures would need new paint. Mrs. Burchett obviously wasn't into home decor—or he
r pompous husband. Joella had plenty of work to do here.
A pass-through opened from the kitchen to the dining room. An open bottle of Riesling and a second long stemmed goblet sat on the shelf. He pulled the cork off, filled the glass, and handed it to her. "This is just a small expression of my appreciation for your visit." Lifting his own wineglass, he chuckled. "I got a head start."
She waved her fingers in front of the offered drink. "Mr. Burchett, this is my job. There's no need. But thank you, anyway." She mustered a smile and took her notebook out of her purse. "Where's Mrs. Burchett?"
"Oh, that woman is such a socialite. She ran off to New York to visit her aspiring Broadway actress friend and left me alone all week."
Every muscle in Joella's body stiffened. She didn't like the looks of this. Wine. No Mrs. Burchett. She pulled her pen from the tube-shaped holder on her notebook and took a few steps into the living room. "Give me an idea of what changes you envision, Mr. Burchett."
He followed her sipping on his wine. "Please, I insist you call me Dale." His few steps closed the gap between them as his gaze scoured her body. She could almost feel his hands moving down her.
Joella shuddered and moved a few paces away. "Okay, Dale. Now, as I was saying, tell me what improvements you'd like to see in this room. Mrs. Burchett mentioned she preferred a more traditional décor."
"Yeah, but I like a masculine look." He moved toward the stone fireplace, stumbling on the first step. "Maybe something here." A large expanse of space above the fireplace needed a wall hanging. "Theesh' … these sofas don't need to be replaced, just recovered."
Joella tensed. He had obviously imbibed more than a little before she arrived, and Mrs. Burchett wasn't here to speak for her preferences. This undoubtedly wouldn't be a productive meeting. Fear careened down her spine. What if he decided to forget about acting like a gentleman?
A lazy grin remained on his face. "Speaking of couches, why don't we sit?" He plopped down and patted the space next to him.
She took a few notes and gawked at him. No way she'd sit next to the guy. "I'm beginning to get a picture of what I can do in this room, but I'm very disappointed Mrs. Burchett isn't here. Let me take a few photos." She pulled her camera out of her purse and took a shot of the loveseat and the fireplace.
He lifted from the couch and stood beside her. "I have to be honest, Joella. I can barely concentrate." His fingers trailed up her arm. "I apologize, but you are the mosh'…most gorgeous woman I've ever met. The way your hair falls along your back and chest makes me dizzy."
"Mr. Burchett, we're not here to talk about me." The nerve of the guy. Did he think she'd play along since his wife was out of town? Apprehension kept company with annoyance in her gut.
The muscles in her neck tensed, each moment becoming more uncomfortable. With a deep breath, she searched for her composure. Since Burchett's account would bring a good profit to New Trend, she needed to get through this meeting without incident if possible. "I appreciate your flattery, but we really need to get down to the business at hand." Her laugh probably sounded as strained as she felt.
Now he stood so near she could smell his drunken breath. "Forgive me, but I've never met a more appealing woman."
Joella moved five steps back. That's it. She knew she should've walked out the minute she discovered Mrs. B wasn't present. She replaced her pen in her notebook. "Mr. Burchett, I need to come back another night when your wife is here, and you're not under the influence of alcohol."
"I'm not drunk on alcohol, just drunk on your presence." He ran his finger down a strand of her hair. "You had my attention the first time I came into your office."
Shoving her camera back in her purse, she clutched her bag, tempted to swing it at him. Sick memories from her past inundated her. The drunken man frightened her. She had to get out of there.
Strong arms tightened around her waist. His lips neared her ear in a whisper. "Let me show you how I feel. I promise you won't regret it."
She pressed her lips together. Drunkenness … her bitter enemy, the catalyst that led to her regrettable behavior. "If you weren't drunk, you wouldn't be acting like this. What do you think your wife would say?" How could she have known his wife would be gone? The roses should've been red flags.
He twirled her around to face him. "Do you know how many women would like to be in your shoes right now? I could do a lot for your career."
The obnoxious fool. "Look, you're a well-known lawyer, and I can't imagine you'd resort to rape. Now let me go."
"Just relax, babe." He tightened his arms around her and kissed her neck. She tried to knee him, but he held her too tight.
He nudged her in the direction of the open bedroom door. "Can't we be friends? Tell me you're not jes' a little bit attracted to me."
"Let me go!" Joella screamed. Would someone hear? Dear Lord, help me.
Burchett held both her shoulders, his grip surprisingly strong. "Look. I'm not planning on leaving my wife. This isn't a long term commitment." He leaned closer and nibbled her ear. "Just a little fun. Get to know each other better."
She caught a quick breath as worry for her safety mounted. JD wasn't here to protect her this time, but she did have another Defender. She raised her face not more than three inches from his. "Listen to me." She hissed. "You're not harming God's property tonight. I am a follower of Jesus, and if you mess with me, you mess with Him." She pushed at his shoulders and let out the breath she'd held.
Burchett staggered backward like he’d been hit by a three hundred pound offensive lineman. "What?"
She held her purse ready to swing like a weapon. "You heard me. You'll have to answer to God for this."
The drunken lawyer stared through bloodshot eyes before lowering his head. "I…I guess I didn't think." He cleared his throat. "My mother is …" The words became inaudible as he stumbled toward the fireplace.
"I'm leaving now. I'll see that your renovation project is assigned to the male decorator on staff. Let's hope your wife doesn't find out about this. Good night."
Joella straightened her clothes, grabbed her briefcase, and slammed the door behind her.
She stumbled over the carpet on her way to the elevator, blinded by hot tears. Thank you, Lord, for getting me out of there.
Downstairs, she rushed out of the lobby and found her car. She choked back sobs when she pushed JD's speed dial number.
"Hi, Ms. Interior Designer. All finished?"
JD sounded so cheery with no idea what had just happened. She didn't want to tell him, either. "Yes." When her voice squeaked, she swallowed, hoping he hadn't noticed anything wrong.
"Joella, are you okay? You sound funny."
She couldn't hide anything from him. "I … something I hadn't expected happened. I can't talk about it right now. Just meet me at the restaurant." Her voice broke. Though she didn't want him to know, he did now.
Chapter Nine
Café Romagna, on the edge of town, didn't seem crowded this evening. JD parked in front and cut the motor. Though the sound of Joella's voice bothered him, he'd wait and hear the story when she got here. A table outdoors would offer more privacy so they could talk.
No sign of her car yet. He chewed his cheek. Though it wasn't a good idea to be out with her again, his restraint had caved. He didn't want to—no, he couldn't stay away from her. For now, he'd shove the consequences of a relationship to the back of his mind. He'd see her for a while—only until he could understand the inner peace she radiated. Then they'd part friends … he hoped. In the meantime, he wouldn't talk about his faith.
A two-toned green Bronco pulled up next to his truck. Joella stared straight ahead, swiped at her face, and turned off the ignition.
JD jumped out his truck and opened her door. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw her tear stained face. Something terrible must've happened. He held his hand out to her, and she stepped out, squeezing his fingers.
"Joella, what happened? Are you okay?"
Tears flowed dow
n her cheeks. Whatever it was, he had to comfort her. He brought her near and held tight until she stopped trembling. "I'm so sorry. Whenever you're ready, I'm a good listener."
She pulled away dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like a baby."
"I don't think so. Come on. We can discuss it when we get inside." The need for a private location became more imperative. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder like he'd done at the Civic Center and guided her around to the front of the building.
The restaurant's heavy wooden door lay ahead at the end of the sidewalk. He grasped Joella's elbow as they stepped up on the curb.
"Well, hello, brother." His church friend in slacks and white dress shirt approached with outstretched hand. Another man propped the door open as two women walked out chatting and laughing.
JD stopped breathing. The last people he wanted to see—members of his congregation.
If they thought he dated Joella, they'd wonder why she didn't attend church. But now, he had to introduce her. "Uh, this is Tolvin Smith. Tolvin, my friend, Joella Crawford."
Joella straightened and offered her hand. "You must be from JD's church."
JD flinched. Exactly what he'd expected her to say.
Tolvin offered a friendly smile. "Yes, I don't think I've seen you there before."
She ran a finger under her eye and lifted the corners of her mouth as if it were an effort. "Oh, I don't—"
"Hey, JD." Richard Kingsley strolled toward them with Betty Ann Roberts, a woman he'd seen several times at services.
The second woman, Aleece, tapped Tolvin's arm.
JD extended his hand to the rest of the group. "Joella, this is Richard, Betty Ann, and Aleece." The sooner he could get away from this group, the easier he'd breathe. "Joella Crawford."
As he'd anticipated, they all stared at his beautiful companion with curiosity. Well, if they mentioned anything Sunday, he'd try to cover up and say she was a friend from NCU—not really a lie.
"Excuse us." Time to get moving before Tolvin said anymore. "See you later." JD guided Joella to the entrance of the restaurant. "I didn't mean to be rude, but Tolvin will talk all night if he has the chance."