Izabelle

I'd just gotten out of the shower when my phone dinged.

I stomped down a tremor of fear, nearly dropping my towel. Ugh. Unacceptable. It wasn't like I could lose it every time a call or text came in. If you carried a phone, those tended to happen.

Drying off, I took my time getting dressed, not that it took long to throw on shorts and a tee. Next, I combed my hair, slid my feet into flip-flops, and hung up the towel. I was not letting some unknown person destroy my peace. I'd check my phone when I was good and ready.

The phone began to ring, taunting me.

Grabbing the toilet brush and cleaner, I gave it a good scrub. Take that scary texter! I took a deep breath, flushed the toilet, and scrubbed it one last time.

Satisfied I hadn't let fear rule me, I walked to the kitchen to check my phone.

I sagged with relief when I saw Lucy's name on the screen. Convincing her I was fine would have been easier if my voice wasn't shaking. She wanted to come over and I didn't argue. Company would be nice.

Fifteen minutes later a knock sounded on my door. "Come in!"

The door opened. Heavy footsteps fell. I turned and screamed at the strange man standing in my living room.

"Please! Don't hurt me, lady!"

I wielded my broom like a weapon. To my surprise and horror, the man held up his arms and dropped to the floor.

I stared down in confusion at the big man curled in a fetal position, with his hands covering his head. This guy had to be the worst robber ever, not that I knew many of them. He sort of looked familiar. Uncertainty moved within me.

I was afraid I'd made a mistake, and that was before he started crying. Big chest-shaking sobs with tears and pleas for mercy. I blinked at the man begging me not to hurt him, and I had no idea what to do.

Hunter stormed into my apartment, his keen gaze perusing me first then the man on my floor.

Hope lit in the man's eyes when he saw Hunter. "Please," he begged. "I came to check the pipes."

It all clicked into place like puzzle pieces, and the broom fell from my hands. I recognized the handyman who worked in the complex. He was kind, slow in speech, and terrified of me. My stomach clenched. What had I done?

"Oh, no, I didn't mean—" I dropped to my knees in front of him but that only agitated him. "I'm so sorry."

"I came to check the pipes," he kept repeating over and over.

Slowly, carefully, kneeling beside him, I reached out to comfort him but pulled my hand back when he flinched. I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I stared helplessly at Hunter unsure of what to do.

"I think his name is Waylon," I whispered.

Hunter crouched beside him. "Hey, buddy, my name's Hunter. Are you Waylon?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

His name was Waylon, and he calmed enough to speak to Hunter. "The upstairs has no air." He pointed up. "I just wanted to check the pipes."

"I believe you. Why don't I help you find those pipes," Hunter suggested, patting the man's back. "We can have a look at it now."

The man's big eyes settled on Hunter with blatant appreciation, and his thick lips curled in a smile. "Thank you."

Waylon's gaze darted to mine and he quickly glanced away as if just looking at me would hurt him. I felt terrible about what had happened—SHSHSSHH!

It took a moment for the strange noise to register. SHSHSSH! WOOSH!

Hunter's eyes widened. WOOSH! I heard him shout my name. As if in slow motion, I glanced up and saw the ceiling crumbling.

I stood frozen as Hunter flew across the room and pushed me out of the way just as a waterfall fell in my living room.

***

"I think God might be trying to tell me something."

I bit into the catfish Hunter had grilled in foil along with corn and potatoes. We sat on his patio furniture beneath white twinkling lights that cast a picturesque scene like something off the cover of a magazine.

"Pretty sure it's always listen to everything Hunter says."

I couldn't stop my smile. It came easily around this man. "I'm serious."

"So am I." He swallowed a buttery new potato. "If having your collapsing ceiling doesn't convince you to move, I have no idea what will."

"You winning our bet." I pointed my fork.

He made a sound of frustration. "Just so you know I'm scratching intelligent off your list of attributes."

I was impressed it ever made the list. "You listed my attributes? What else did you write?"

He leaned back in his chair, watching me with those intense blue eyes. "Ask me again when I'm not upset."

A cool breeze blew strands of hair against my cheek. "I don't think so." I shook my head. "You don't look mad."

"What does mad look like?"

Caught off guard, I blinked. "There'd probably be yelling instead of grilling dinner."

"I thought about it," he admitted. "But I was too relieved to find you in one piece at your apartment."

"Why were you there? I was expecting—Lucy." More puzzle pieces clicked. "She called you."

"My daughter knows when it's time to ask for help."

"You're implying I don't."

"No implying, Izzy, I'm saying it outright." His glittered and I felt his carefully leashed emotion. "You have no clue when you're in trouble. The scene I walked in on is proof of that."

"I'm really sorry about Waylon."

"He calmed down and left happy. I'm not worried about Waylon."

"Whatever you gave him made him light up like it was Christmas morning. What was it?"

"It's a replica of the sheriff's badge."

Remembering the little gold pin and the joy on Waylon's face, I felt a huge smile. "You're a sweet guy, Hunter Donovan. I owe you. Thank you."

He glanced up, a fork of salad midair, and thought for a moment. "Let me call my friend about the new apartment."

The words caused me physical pain I felt deep in my core. It was ridiculous, but I couldn't give in. "Not yet, please. My place is the only thing that's ever belonged to just me."

"Izabelle—"

"You're saying my name like I'm about to fall apart, but I'm not." Without thinking, I put my hand on top of his determined to ignore the zing kissing my skin. "I can deal with this. I just need more time."

Dark eyes flicked to our joined hands. Did he feel the sparks too? "What secrets are you hiding Izzy?"

"What?" My stomach dropped. His brows drew together in confusion.

"Your apartment is flooded. It's unlivable. How can you deal with this?

A flippant reply came to mind but the earnest question in his eyes lowered my guard. "I keep going. I do what needs to be done, and I survive. Guess that sounds silly to you."

"Wise was what came to mind. I do the same. Keep going through the motions. Staying one step ahead of the demons."

"What demons chase you, Hunter?"

"Regret." His gaze pierced mine. "Past mistakes." He paused. "Guilt. I could go on."

He understood. An invisible connection seemed to pull us together. His gaze lowered to my hands and I realized I held his in an iron grip.

"Sorry," I said, pulling away from the lifeline of his touch. "It's just that you described exactly how I feel."

Hunter's fingers brushed the top of his hand where I'd been touching him. I wondered if he even realized he did it.

He reached for a drink, his grip tightening around the cold glass of iced tea as if that would erase my touch. "It's how most of us feel."

I let out a short laugh of disbelief. "Most people seem way more put together."

"Pretending is easier for some."

"For you. I'd never imagined you would struggle like me. You're perfect."

"Only Jesus was perfect," he reminded.

I caught his uncharacteristic glimpse of vulnerability. "What do you feel guilty about, Hunter?"

"I was seventeen when I got Anna pregnant." His guilt was plain in the depths of his eyes.

I tried to imagine Hunter as a teenage bad boy tempting an innocent church girl. I couldn't do it. My mind refused to entertain the idea. "Did you..." I could not finish the sentence.

"Force her?" His gaze slammed into mine. "No. I didn't do that. I loved her, but I did a poor job of showing it." He rubbed his jaw. "We called it making love, but it wasn't. Loving her would have been waiting."

I'd never thought of it that way. Making love was what you did to show how much you cared. "You married her, and if you had waited, you might not have Lucy."

Hunter's chest rose and fell slowly. He nodded. "Anna always said God worked things out for our good, even though we got in His way. Lucy was the good."

"Do you think you should wait until marriage?"

"Yeah, I do." His voice was low, his expression pensive. When he looked back at me thought I saw shame in his eyes. "I haven't lived that way. It's time to make changes in my life." He glanced down. "Now you know how imperfect I am."

"Jesus paid the price for our sins. That's what you told me." His gaze lifted to mine. "You should forgive yourself. Anna would agree with me."

"Anna loved Jesus. She put him first in her life until she met me. I made my angel fall."

My heart ached to witness his pain. I understood the feeling all too well, but at least Hunter's sins were forgivable. Mine? I wasn't sure. "I've made some of the same mistakes. "I told you what happened the night Kyle called you." The question trembled. "I don't want to make the same mistake twice."

"That wasn't your fault." He pushed back his chair and stood, raking both hands in his hair. "Circumstances don't determine your worth."

"They don't determine yours either."

"Izzy, I'm talking about my actions. My choices. Not what was done to me without my consent."

"My actions haven't been too great either. I—I've done things."  I felt the sting of tears. I quickly blinked them away. "After that night...I didn't trust men. But I got a strange sense of power by flirting with them." I stole a glimpse of his expression.

"If you're expecting me to be shocked, I'm not."

"I flirted with a lot of guys, but that's all I did until Scott. He said he loved me, and I believed him. I was so stupid."

My eyes found Hunter's. I was curious how he'd react if he knew I never stopped thinking about him. What would he say if I told him I thought of him even when I was with Scott?

"You deserve better."

"So do you." I stood, giving his arm a playful punch. It felt like my fist struck steel. "Maybe you can find me better." The words were meant to be teasing but they felt awkward and wrong.

He took a step toward me. "I should warn you I've never done this before."

"Shocker." I felt ridiculous. Men who looked like Hunter did not need a matchmaker. "It was a silly idea. We can forget it if you like."

"Scared you're going to lose?" he taunted. "Or is there another reason?"

"No, of course not, I already have a few winning women lined up to sacrifice a night watching reruns to go out with you."

His shoulders shook with laughter. "Winning women? That's funny. Then you follow with these winning women sacrificing a night to be with me. I'm not that bad."

"You're intelligent, fun to be around, and swoon-worthy," I spoke without thinking. "Finding dates for you will be easy. Your job will be much harder."

"Right," he drawled, chucking me gently beneath the chin. A smile in his eyes. "It'll be tough to find a guy to date a sweet, witty, and beautiful woman."

We stared at each other for countless moments. My heart raced and my skin felt hot and tingly. He leaned in. I lifted my chin. He was going to kiss me. "Hunter?"

His name was a breathless whisper, but it seemed to wake him up. He stiffened. "I need to get my Bible."