Twenty-Seven

"What happened between you and Kyle?" Izabelle asked the next day, while we sat in a Mexican restaurant enjoying lunch.

"We talked." I scooped salsa on a tortilla chip. "Kyle changed a tire for some people from a retirement home. We made new friends. He took me home."

"You talked, rescued some folks, and made friends..." She motioned me to continue.

I sighed, feeling discouraged. "I found a piece of paper in his truck with a room number from the Plaza written in a woman's handwriting."

Izabelle's delicate brows lifted. "Did you ask him about it?"

"Yes. He said it wasn't what I thought."

Izabelle frowned. "He wouldn't lie, but you should have made him explain."

"I would have, but someone called security on us." I saw Izabelle's eyes widen. "We were arguing when the guard showed up."

"Sounds like an interesting night. At least no one called the cops."

"That's the standard by which I judge all my dates. At least no one called the cops."

Izabelle laughed.

"Did you see Dad last night?"

A blush spread across her cheeks. "It's weird hearing you call him Dad."

"Noted. Did you see Captain Donovan last night?"

"Yes, but there's nothing between us, Lucy, at least nothing interesting." She seemed disappointed about this. "I think your dad thinks I have a drinking problem, and he's designated himself as my sponsor. He drove me home last night."

"He is protective," I replied carefully. "Is it bad he drove you home?"

Her chin lifted in defiance, but there was no heat in her gaze only sorrow. "I don't need a babysitter."

"What do you need?"

She sighed, studying a chip. "I'll let you know when I figure it out."

I decided to change the subject. "Izabelle, are you and Kyle spending Thanksgiving with Ava's family?"

"We always do." Her brow crinkled. "Does that bother you?"

"A little, yes. Ava told me how much she loves Kyle."

Izabelle stared at me, clearly shocked. "She said that to you? That does it." Her fingers moved quickly over her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"You and Kyle are going to work this out today." A moment later she said, "He'll be here in ten minutes."

When I shot her a puzzled look, she explained, "I told him you were crying and I couldn't calm you down. Don't be mad."

"You did not text that." She looked totally serious.

"Actually, I did," she said unapologetically.

"He'll think I'm crazy."

"Lucy, my brother is so in love with you that it wouldn't matter." Our food arrived and she waited until the waiter left to continue. "I'm sorry Ava did that. I've never known her to be that selfish."

I'd already forgiven her. "She was honest."

"She's the crazy one. You're too forgiving," she complained, dipping a chip in queso. "I'd have ended up on a daytime talk show."

"Lucy, is that you?"

I turned at the syrupy sweet voice and was surprised to see Lindsay and Brandon with Aunt Karen and Uncle Parker. Keeping a tight reign on my emotions, I stood to greet my family.

Lindsay and Uncle Parker hugged me first. Brandon hugged me next, and Aunt Karen leaned over and placed an air kiss above my cheek.

I introduced Aunt Karen and Uncle Parker to Izabelle. Lindsay and Izabelle were already acquainted.

Once the introductions were out of the way there was an awkward pause.

"I didn't know you liked Mexican food," I said, mostly because I had nothing else to say. "This place is the best."

Aunt Karen managed a smile. "Our future son-in-law's parents picked the restaurant." Her tone implied she would never set foot in a place like this had it been her choice.

Izabelle threw me a look. "They have excellent taste," I complimented.

Aunt Karen looked down her nose at me. "You are certainly looking better than the last time we saw you, Lucy."

Uncle Parker looked puzzled, and Aunt Karen whispered something in his ear.

"Thank you," I managed to say politely.

"I hope you're not still with your boyfriend." Lindsay's tone was pitying. "Mother and I picked up pamphlets at the women's shelter you should read."

Izabelle looked confused and tossed me a questioning look.

"Lindsay, I told you I fell. On a skateboard. It was an accident."

She shook her head sadly, as if I was in denial. Aunt Karen let out a dainty tsk of disapproval.

Uncle Parker shifted uncomfortably. He usually went along with whatever Aunt Karen or Lindsay said.

"Lucy girl, if you need help we can sit down and work out a solution," my uncle suggested diplomatically. "There is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Her boyfriend didn't beat her up," Izabelle snapped irritably when my aunt held out the pamphlets.

"You really should get help," Aunt Karen told me with a sad shake of her head. Lindsay hastily agreed.

Before I could answer, a deep and achingly familiar voice joined the conversation. My senses came alive.

"Why does Lucy need help?" Kyle asked, stepping beside me.

I stole a glimpse of him and my heart soared.

"Because she's been abused by you," Izabelle said dryly. "Have you met Lucy's cousin Lindsay and her aunt and uncle?"

"I know Lindsay." Kyle gave her a nod of acknowledgment.

"Kyle Huxley?" Lindsay gaped at him. "You're Lucy's boyfriend?"

He didn't answer, but Lindsay didn't give him a chance. "How did this happen?" She asked, shocked. "I didn't even know you knew my cousin."

"I didn't know you knew this guy," Brandon whined to Lindsay. "He isn't another one of your ex-boyfriends is he?"

"Kyle and I are old friends from high school," Lindsay explained, relishing Brandon's obvious jealousy. She sauntered up to Kyle and placed her hand on his chest. I felt him tense.

"Isn't that right, Kyle?" She smiled shamelessly up at him with a suggestive glint in her eyes.

He nodded but stepped away from her and closer to me.

We watched the scene like it was happening in slow motion. Lindsay introduced Kyle to her parents and Brandon simmered. Uncle Parker shook Kyle's hand. Aunt Karen looked like she'd sucked on a lemon, Lindsay flirted with Kyle, and Brandon wore a look like he was plotting Kyle's murder and where to hide the body.

Izabelle was thoroughly entertained.

Kyle effectively ended the drama by telling my family how nice it was to meet them, making short work of small talk, and saying goodbye. His natural charm was friendly enough that they didn't see it for the dismissal it was.

Lindsay wrote something on a piece of paper and pressed it in Kyle's palm. "Send me your address. I'll mail you a wedding invitation." Lindsay's eyes offered something more.

Finally, the quartet left to find Brandon's parents.

Izabelle shrieked with laughter.

Kyle looked down at the piece of paper Lindsay handed him.

"She actually gave you her number in front of her parents and her fiancé!" Izabelle's mouth dropped. "If those digits are for a wedding invite, I'll eat those pamphlets!"

Kyle tossed the paper Lindsay had handed him onto the table. There was Lindsay's number along with the words CALL ME written in all caps, punctuated with three exclamation marks but instead of dots she'd used hearts. I could not believe it.

"I don't want you thinking I'm keeping it from you. We have enough between us as it is."

Despite my resolve to get along with my family, I felt betrayed. "When did she even have time to write that without anyone noticing?"

"Your aunt's too self-absorbed to notice much. The fiancé couldn't take his eyes off you. I'm not sure about your uncle." Izabelle shook her head like she thought he was clueless.

Jealousy, frustration, betrayal, I could go on. My emotions were draining. Please Lord help me not to sin against you. "I'm sorry."

"No need. We're not responsible for our family." Izabelle looked from her brother to me and picked up her purse. "I'm outta here. Bro, make sure she gets home."

"Izzy," I called, and she waved but didn't turn around.

"My sister the matchmaker." Kyle's tone was wry, and his keen gaze slid over me. I quivered. "I guess you weren't crying inconsolably."

"She meant well." I was nervous. "Is that the only reason you're here?"

"No, that's the reason I dropped everything to come." He swallowed and I watched the muscles in his throat work. His skin was smooth, tanned. "I needed to see you. Last night was..." He searched for words.

"Frightening? Comical? Shocking?" I supplied with a smile.

"All of the above." His gaze dropped to the table where Izabelle and I were seated. "Do you want to finish your lunch?"

I wasn't hungry, but I took a seat anyway because I wanted to spend as much time as I could with him. Kyle sat in his sister's seat.

"Hope you like Chile Relleno," I said after a moment of silence.

"Izabelle always orders it with cheese."

"Do you prefer it stuffed beef or chicken?" I glanced down at my untouched Chalupa and chicken fajitas. "I'll give you some of mine."

"I'm not complaining about the food." He reached out to take my hand but thought better of it. I was hurt. "I'm sorry about last night. I went home and prayed about it, and you were right to be upset."

"I jumped to conclusions. I know she was your friend's sister. I was jealous and I was out of line." My voice shook.

Kyle's eyes closed like he was in pain. When he opened them again I thought I saw unshed tears shine in his eyes, but they were gone in the next breath. "I'm sure Izabelle told you I've been going to Shooters with Jase. Sometimes Charlotte is there. I promise I have never done anything with her or any other woman since I met you."

"I believe you," I whispered but he wasn't finished.

"Last night, Charlotte was clinging more than usual. I knew you were there, and I let her. Part of me wanted you to see and to care. I'm sorry. I asked God's forgiveness and I'm asking for yours."

Regret was evident in his voice and expression.

"Oh, Kyle, I forgive you." Strangely, his confession relieved me and I told him so. "You make following the Lord seem easy. I'm weak. I've talked to God about it, but I still struggle."

"I struggle too. Everyone does." His steady gaze held mine. "...My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

"Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." I finished the verse from 2 Corinthians 9. I'd memorized it because it gave me hope.

Kyle stared. "You know the Bible well. That's exactly what God did for you. Christ's power rests on you."

The waiter brought the check and he reached for his wallet, withdrew two twenties, and dropped them on the plastic tray with the ticket.

He shook his head when asked if he needed change, and I grabbed my purse, but Kyle wouldn't take my money. I felt the warmth of his hand on my back as we walked out.

Kyle drove to the lake. Even though it was almost Thanksgiving, the cold weather hadn't set in and it was still a warm seventy degrees, though the weatherman predicted a front coming in the following week.

We got out of his truck and sat on a wrought iron bench facing the water. "I'm sorry about Lindsay." His leg brushed mine sending a tremor through my body.

"She only did it because she thinks we're together. Lindsay's always been jealous of you."

"What? No, I don't think so."

"People are attracted to the light."

"Sometimes when I listen for God I hear voices that—" My throat closed and I swallowed hard. "They scare me."

"Spiritual warfare is real."

I turned and looked up at him. "You hear them too?"

"Last night when I raised my voice to you. I was angry and frustrated. I'm sorry." The look in his eyes completed me. "It's not too late to get it right."

"I hope not," I said softly. "I want that so much."

His fingertips lifted my chin and he kissed me.