23

“I dunno, Chase. Singing ‘Forgiveness’ still grates on me. It’s just not coming together the way I want.” Pyper sighed, resting her head against his chest.

“The recording session went fine. Stop overthinking it.” Chase moved close—positioning himself into a neat, perfect snuggle against Pyper’s side. They sat on the Brocks’ front porch swing as dusk crept in. He breathed his fill of rapidly cooling air and sweet floral scent while pushing a heel against the floorboards to set their world in gentle motion.

Relaxing against the support of his arm, Pyper cast him a grateful look. “You’re being way too nice. I’m still questioning whether or not I should be part of—”

“Pyp, you’re doing what you should. Leave it at that, OK? The rest’ll come.” Chase cut her off deliberately, with somewhat of a hard edge because he wanted her to stop berating herself. The Spirit prompted her forward; an ache pounded through him for Pyper to recognize the fact and see a way through the heavy, thick veil of her doubts.

A silence stretched, full of chirping insects and the song of a breeze whistling through the brush. “I have a question for you.”

“Yep.”

“Are you…OK with things? With dating the way we are?”

“What do you mean?” The conversation shift was unexpected. He angled toward her, loving the way she tucked her legs and propped against the side of the porch swing to face him. Somehow, someway, he knew he’d never tire of looking at her, or simply resting at her side.

“I’m sure I seem pretty tame.”

His grin spread. “Tame is hardly the word I’d use to describe you. You have more fire in your spirit than most anyone I know.”

He rested his arm against the back of the swing and twirled a curl of her hair around his finger, let it spring free, repeated. “Pyper, you have nothing to worry about. I want to know you. I want your trust, your confidence. If I took you to my condo, even for an innocent dinner, the temptation would be too great to press for more. I like these moments. I love being with you. That’s enough, and I mean it. Like everything else, the rest will come when it’s supposed to. When it’s right.”

“Like when we’re married.”

All at once, her eyes went wide. She gasped, realizing what she had just said. Meanwhile, Chase couldn’t help but want to tease her, especially since laughter bubbled through his chest and filled him with delight. “Aww…darlin’…are you askin’? This is so unexpected…”

Even in semi-darkness, with only the hazy overhead light from the porch to see by, he could tell that a blush painted her cheeks. Adorably flustered, Pyper ducked her head and her hair fell in a curtain against her cheeks. Their blended laughter moved through the yard, full and spontaneous—music, Chase thought. Great music.

“You’re three shades of black soot, Chase Bradington.”

The words were a sassy tease, but she was charmingly undone—disarmed. He’d bet that didn’t happen to this lady often. So, he laughed all the more, drawing her into his arms for a long, warm hug and nuzzle against her neck that filled his soul.

“That I am, crash. That I am.”

She giggled; Chase sighed with pleasure while she snuggled all the closer.

Pyper tilted her head to look into his eyes and she drew the back of her fingertips against his cheek and jaw. Her eyes tracked the caress and Chase’s senses came alive and tingled with need. Yep. Being alone with her put him in tricky terrain to be sure. But, as he had said, it was better to be safe, and God honoring, than to be sorry.

All the same, an inspiration struck. “Know what? I’ve got an even better answer to that question for you. C’mon. Let’s go into downtown Franklin real quick before I leave for home.”



They ended up at Sweet CeCe’s on Main Street, a shop that featured the best handmade frozen yogurt in all of Tennessee from Pyper’s point of view. Chase treated and they sat across from one another at a quaint metal bistro table crafted of elaborate curlicues. They both carried generously appointed Styrofoam cups stuffed with one of the shop’s specialties: Old Fashioned Fudge Sorbet.

Pyper promptly dug in. Heaven. But between licks and nibbles, she kept an eye on Chase. “This is wonderful, but it doesn’t answer my question about dating.”

“Well it should.”

“How so?”

“It’s symbolic. A parable, maybe.”

Pyper frowned in confusion, but the frown didn’t last long. Creamy, sweet deliciousness melted against her tongue, providing welcome refreshment from the day’s oppressive heat. Summer days wouldn’t last much longer, but oh, while they did…

“I want to court you, Pyper. I want to win much more than your body. I want it all. I want to talk to you, hold you, know you—everything—good and bad, and I want you to know me. From there, we’ll keep on building. That’s my dream.”

As he spoke, as his words trickled into her mind, her heart, Pyper’s world came to a standstill. He finished a few bites then lifted his spoon, blooping the bottom of the utensil against the tip of her nose, which caused Pyper to jump, and issue a short squeal.

Ignoring the trickle of yogurt that inched down her nose, she dabbed a healthy dot on Chase’s nose in payback. The laughter they shared, the silly, precious moment engraved his words on her heart and she came to understand exactly what Chase had accomplished in this moment. Purity. Innocence. The joy of discovery. The thrill of tumbling heart-first into love.

Recovered, he sealed her gaze with his. “Pyper, I’m not going to lie to you. Once upon a Chase, my answer to kissing you, to sharing with you physically would have been yes, yes, and more yes. Excess. Stupidity. Greed. Sin. I’d enjoy the conquest, then walk away unencumbered and unrepentant, relishing a steamy physical memory. What I know now is that that’s no way to live. It’s gutless, rotten, and while I thought I was sliding through life in feel-good-mode without a care to be had, the consequences caught up to me. Not anymore. Not ever again. I want a woman like you, Pyper. I could never disrespect you like that, and truth to tell? I doubt you’d ever let me in the first place.”

“Seems you’ve caught on to me pretty quick.”

“I hope.” Chase finished off his treat, visibly savoring this influx of good, of right.

Pyper joined in that melody and rested her hand on top of his, smiling into his eyes.

A short time later they climbed back into his truck for the return home. Chase turned the key in the ignition and as soon as the radio came to life, the song “People Change” by For King and Country hit the airwaves. It was like God decided to ride along with them, and that fact wasn’t lost on Pyper. She froze for a minute or two, lost in the music; she turned her head, shoulders shaking as he engaged the vehicle and allowed her to cry in a silence broken only by the strains of poignant music that spoke directly to the battle she fought.

But she wasn’t alone now, and she knew it. Chase settled his free hand against her arm in a comforting squeeze but focused on the road ahead as though wanting to spare her from added discomfort.

“Sometimes,” he said quietly, “all the words in the world won’t accomplish what a well-written song can.”

“I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Let the pain in, and don’t be afraid of it. Don’t be afraid to break, Pyper. It’ll be OK. I’m here, and so are all the people who love you. God will put you back together again, and you’ll move forward as He intends.”

The authenticity of those words, the passion that crafted them into being, calmed her at once.

They arrived at Pyper’s home and, as always, Chase rounded his truck to open the door and accompany her to the front entrance. There on the porch, he cupped her face in his hands and she wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning into him. His expression was intent, almost somber; Pyper was about to question him when Chase stroked his thumbs against her cheeks. “I don’t want one more day to pass me by, Pyper. Life’s too short, and life’s too precious.” A steady gaze never wavered from hers. “I love you. Plain and simple. I love you.” His voice, usually a faultless tool, turned to a husky whisper. “I’m not dodging it anymore. I’m allowing myself the freedom of saying it, and expressing how I feel in full. Being at your side is a privilege. Touching you is a gift. I love you.”

The reverence, the bare honesty of his words, unfastened the last string holding back her heart. She breathed deep and leapt across a whole new sky. “Chase…I love you, too.”

The words rocked him—she saw that clearly in the way he blinked in slow motion.

“Say it again,” he murmured.

Pyper melted, restraints rippling to useless debris while her spirit soared free. “I love you.”

He inched in closer, his full, waiting mouth just millimeters from hers, his breath warm against her lips. “Just…one more time.”

“I love you, Chase.” Melting, she pulled him in for a kiss that sealed her heart. Radiance, a soul shimmer, swept through her body. Love—a love unlike anything she had ever known or expected—left her clinging to him. “I had no idea so much love lived inside of me…and you…just searching for an outlet.”

“And I’ve found it,” Chase replied. “For real and forever I’ve found it in you.”

Night wrapped its arms around them, filled with cricket song, the dance of fireflies, and the gentle whisper of tall grass. He searched her eyes and she caught the way he trembled. A strong man crumbled, all because of the exchange of three precious words.

“My every intention is to marry you, crash. Sooner rather than later. With all that I am I want to give you my life. My entire heart.” He puffed a breath and squeezed her hands tight. “Pyp, just before this nightmare came to life, I imagined the moment of putting my ring on your finger. Forever. My world—our world—turned sideways that day, but the truth stayed rock solid, and true.” All at once, a flash of loving fire came to life in his eyes. “This time I’m the one askin’. Will ya’ take me on, crash? Are you brave enough? Do you love me enough to marry—”

“I accept.”

Love had been set free, released into her care. All at once, Pyper recognized the gift Chase offered; she absorbed its weight, its power and beauty. She launched into his arms and he caught her waist, nuzzling her neck. Chase had delivered those sacred words along with a vow of his commitment, his reverence for what they had found together. I love you. They had spoken them to one another three times strong—like a benediction. There had to be something ordained in that fact, something holy and God-Spirited. Flooded by contentment, she knew she couldn’t—shouldn’t—keep that feeling inside. She wanted to share it. She wanted to celebrate it.

Would it hurt her—the release, the second chance, the opportunity to grow into something new, something even better than she was before?

No, it wouldn’t. Like Chase, she was tired of holding back. Love was real. Love was healing, and love worked miracles. Why shouldn’t it prompt her to rediscovery?

To rebirth?