28

“Nicely done, Emma.” Darcy glanced at her watch and signaled for the company to sit in the front two rows. Nearly an hour after all the non-actor adults left the sanctuary, the main characters had run through the play twice, adjusting to Darcy’s directions with little resistance. Maybe Finn was right, and she just needed to be a leader. Novel thought. “Well done, everyone. I’m very impressed with how you’re becoming your characters.”

“It’s easy, Miss Darcy,” Lizzie, the soloist, said. “We’ve all read Miss Tessa’s books. We knows the peoples real well. It’s like they’s our friends. I was born to be Marley.”

Darcy bit the side of her cheek trying to stifle the involuntary laugh bubbling in her chest. “Yes, well, it shows, Miss Lizzie.” She glanced at her clipboard and rattled off the dates and times of the upcoming practices. “As a reminder, we won’t be rehearsing tomorrow, but we will be the day after, so please practice your lines and songs tonight.”

In under ten minutes, all the children were bundled in various layers of goose down, gloves, and galoshes. The rowdy sanctuary simmered to a low din as actors waved good-byes.

“Please tell Miss Lulu we’ve all been praying for her,” Eloise Mayweather, the adult playing Guard-Ann, said. “She was missed this week in my seniors’ intro to ballet class.”

“I’m sure she would rather have been in a pliè than in the hospital.”

“Well, she is quite blessed to have you to fill in for her as director. Good night.”

Eloise was the final pageant participant to exit the sanctuary, leaving her and Finn alone. Again. How did she continually find herself alone with the good pastor?

She sat on a stool in the front of the sanctuary, as he tidied the pews. “Need some help?”

He glanced toward her, and the wide grin stretching across his face nearly toppled her off the stool. The memory of the feel of his lips pressed against hers burned to the surface. She didn’t need to close her eyes for the feel of his heat to be against her cheek or feel his frame fit perfectly with hers. Each second of kissing Finn Tarrington rushed over her with a single smile. She was a puddle of mush.

With a little cough she cleared her throat, shifting her focus to the nave and the altar acting as the makeshift stage. “I should probably clean all of this fluff up, huh?” Without an answer she began rolling the batting like a sleeping bag. Perhaps they could stack the filling in the choir loft or in the bell tower cove? She’d hate to have to take the sets back and forth to Aunt Lulu’s each day, but she never bothered to ask when she showed up with the dozens of yards of thick quilt batting for snow where she would store it.

She jumped at the soft touch to her shoulder. Whipping around, she collided the coil of batting with Finn’s broad chest. “Uh, sorry.” Her voice was muffled by the white fluff.

His hands floated up her arms, as soft pools of heat expanded under her skin. Each of her limbs liquified with his touch. Leaning into him, she linked her gaze to his, a moment before his mouth captured hers. The batting fell from her grip as she clasped her arms around his neck, and melted into him. The sound of the ocean rushed into her ears and paced the speed of her heart. His fingers drew a light, tempting trail up her neck, tangling in her hair, and loosening the bun, allowing the weight to hang down her back.

Finn broke the fiery connection. He sucked in a shuddering breath, matching her own as his fingers tangled with her mess of hair. “We have to keep meeting like this.”

Darcy’s heart seemed to fill with helium. If he wasn’t holding her, she would surely float to the rafters. A girl could get used to looking into those eyes every day. “I guess this is becoming a…”

He rested his forehead against hers. “A what, Darcy?”

“A problem,” she whispered.