Norman Grant scanned Valerie critically and beamed his approval, telling himself that she was a beauty if ever he saw one. His gaze dropped from her eyes, to her shoulders, to her perky breasts, then back to the buttery expanse of her cinnamon-colored neck. Unaware that he was running his tongue slowly over his lips, or that his pupils had dilated, he stared into her eyes in silent expectation of what he wanted—once he got to know her, of course. His hands still directed the choir, but his eyes were on her.
He noticed her curvy brick-house shape, accentuated by a pair of shapely, pretty legs. She also had the most gorgeous lips he’d seen on any woman in all of his thirty years. Everything was in its rightful place and perfectly proportioned to her body. To his way of thinking, Valerie was a sister made for loving, and Lord help him, he wanted to love her!
Casting his eyes downward, he studied the plush forest-green carpet under his feet and began to pray silently. Lord Jesus, You know this woman’s making me so weak. I’m a man first—and I have needs. Help me, Father God; please help your child.
His eyes caught Valerie’s and their gazes held. Instantly, he knew that she was a woman of class and distinction, judging from her choice of a stylish burgundy and white tweed suit with a fitted jacket and leather-trimmed sleeves. His blood was set aflame as he watched her whip her shoulder-length blunt-cut bronze hair out of her face as the choir moved her more and more. With a shiver of recollection, he realized that looking at Valerie rekindled memories of his deceased biological mother, Belle, a classy, together woman who died when he was ten years old.
And that voice. That harmonious sound seemed to speak to his spirit. He took notice of the way it had mesmerized everyone around her. He craned his neck and inched a little closer to her pew in order to hear her better.
Although he continued to direct the choir and they kept singing a medley of great gospel favorites, his mind and eyes wouldn’t stay off the unnamed visitor, who was beautiful—and talented, too. The more he looked at her, the more he was determined to find a way to get to know her. But it wasn’t until she hit a high C over E—an extremely difficult note to sing—that he had his answer. He knew, without a doubt, how he’d make it happen.
Coming out of his reverie, he thought about the task which needed his expertise at the moment. He balled up his fists and moved them in a winding motion, signaling the choir to keep singing the refrain until he told them to stop. He kept his mind on his directing duties, and indeed, the saints shouted like crazy. The choir’s voice fell under a special anointing, and their songs, filled with Biblical principles, moved the congregation until the church became a flurry of activity. The saved danced, shouted, and paced the aisles, proclaiming their love and devotion to Jesus Christ for all to hear. Others trembled and cried out, “Mercy,” “Hallelujah,” and “Thank you, Jesus.” Their spiritual joy was like a wildfire that ignited the saved and unsaved alike.
When the church quieted from the near-deafening roar of praising and shouting, the church pastor, Reverend Terrance Avery, took his place at the podium. A feeling of contentment filled his soul as he rubbed his bald caramel-colored pate. “That’s right church, if you know that you know that you know God is good, praise Him! Give God His due whenever you feel it deep down in your soul. Can I get an amen?” he wailed, winding up his congregation even more. He clutched the gold satin stole around his neck, pulling on it for emphasis. Cries of “Well,” “Fix it,” and “That’s all right,” were heard over the organist playing a series of chords to punctuate the fluctuation in Reverend Avery’s voice. Valerie became caught up in the spirit and called out, too.
“Church, if you desire prayer this morning, come to the altar and let’s talk to God. Tell Him what you need and believe that you will receive it in Jesus’ name. He knows the groaning of every heart and knows your needs before you even ask Him.”
Although Reverend Avery was standing many rows down from Valerie, it seemed as if he were looking straight at her, into the depths of her soul. Her eyes widened to the size of half dollars, and her toes curled in her shoes. A sheepish grin played over her face as she was overtaken by the deepening hue of shame. No matter what she did, Valerie couldn’t shake the feverish warmth that consumed her body like a fast-spreading cancer. He knows…the pastor knows that I’m sinning right here in his church—looking at that fine man like I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. I need prayer like yesterday, she thought.
Valerie tore out of her seat, making her way to the altar. She excused herself so she could get as close as she could to the pastor, elders, and prayer staff to get a double dose of whatever anointing power they had in their healing hands. She wanted—no needed—to be on the receiving end of whatever would make her right again.
As the elders and the prayer staff snaked through the throngs of people congregated at the altar, Valerie couldn’t quell the spasms in her face or the twitching of her lips. As Reverend Avery placed his hand on her forehead and prayed for her, she felt as though the world was spinning and careening off its axis. She became dizzy and thought she was going to faint. A male elder noticed her unsteadiness and stood over her in case she needed help.
Suddenly, a presence of warmth surrounded Valerie. Not knowing what it was or why it was happening, she surrendered to it and whispered a silent prayer. When the feeling left her, Valerie felt renewed, energetic—as if the hand of God had touched her. There was peacefulness in her spirit that she’d never known before. No longer did thoughts of the handsome choir director invade her mind.
Still feeling a bit lightheaded, she made it through the rest of the service. A sense of calmness surrounded her, and when the benediction was said two hours later, Valerie was ready to go downstairs to the Fellowship Hall for Social Hour. The promise of a cup of coffee and a slice of cake before her drive home sounded good to her.
On her way to the basement, she couldn’t count the number of people who stopped to compliment her voice, to tell her that she had a calling to sing His praises, and she should use her gift to bring the unsaved to God. All she could do was nod, mostly because she couldn’t get a word in edgewise as men and women, young and old, invited her to return to the church real soon. They begged her to join Red Oaks Christian Fellowship so she could become a member of the choir and begin her ministry in song.
Norman kept his eye on Valerie until the crowd of well-wishers dissipated. Then, he took off his robe, hung it over his arm, and straightened out his brown wool suit, making sure that it didn’t appear wrinkled. He remembered hearing the church matriarch, Mother Maybelle, telling him that first impressions were lasting. Impressing Valerie was the only thing on his mind right then. Remembering a tiny bottle of Kouros cologne in his suit pocket, he discreetly sprayed some on the sides of his neck and decided he was ready to meet the visitor with the heavenly voice.
He sauntered to the back of the church, where Valerie stood, and waited until an overzealous member who wouldn’t stop talking finally ran out of things to say and left. Then Norman seized the opportunity to approach Valerie before someone else beat him to it. His mouth curved into an unconscious smile, setting the tone of his introduction.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said, unable to stop smiling. “I couldn’t help admiring your lovely voice.”
His smile was unlike anything Valerie had ever seen before. It transformed his face into pure sunlight—an intimate smile, beautiful with brightness—warming her insides. “Thank you, sir. I’ve been getting a lot of that today,” she replied with a laugh.
Regarding her with a provocative look in his eye, Norman enjoyed the sound of her gentle laughter rippling through the air. It pervaded his entire body like a bolt of electricity—strong, powerful, magnetic. “Every word of what they said is true. I’ve never heard such a beautiful voice. Please excuse my manners. My name is Norman Grant, and yours?” he asked, extending his hand.
“Valerie Freeman,” she told him, placing her palm against his. She felt the electricity of his touch, and an unwelcome surge of excitement hit her in places that she didn’t want to feel it. He’d struck a vibrant chord within her, and quivers of desire surged through her veins. “I’m happy to meet you.”
“Oh no, the pleasure is all mine.” It was easy for Norman to get lost in the way he looked at Valerie. He was totally entranced by her compelling presence and felt as if he wanted to wrap himself around her like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night.
Valerie enjoyed the touch of his hand—warm, strong, and firm—much like the man she imagined him to be. The scent of his cologne wafted through the air, assaulting her senses. A wonderful shiver of wanting ran through her again and made her knees buckle. Her heart hammered in her ears, and her pulse skittered at an alarming rate.
Norman released her hand and embraced her, catching her as she swooned. “What’s wrong, Valerie? Are you all right?”
You can’t fix what’s wrong with me here in church, Valerie thought. She was so busy checking out how handsome he was in his suit that her breath caught in her throat. “I—I’m…a little lightheaded…from not eating this morning, I guess.”
He took her hand, and saw this as a chance to show her how chivalrous he could be. He wanted to protect her in every possible way, and here was a heaven-sent opportunity. “Well, we’ll just have to do something about that, won’t we, Valerie?”
His touch upset her balance, and she stumbled on the way to wherever he was taking her. Her body tingled at the way he said her name. “Where are we going?” she quizzed.
Without warning, he wrapped his strong arm around her waist to steady her. “Just trust me, okay?” His expression stilled, letting her know that he took taking care of her very seriously.
The mystery in his eyes beckoned to her irresistibly, and she didn’t want to dull the sparkle she saw in them. “That sounds good to me,” she said, enjoying the safety and security of her protector’s arms.
At that moment, Valerie didn’t want to be anywhere else.