Page 19 of Dare to Hold (Dare To Love #1)

Ivy

Getting Harper to agree to come to church was easier than I expected.

“I mean, I don’t have anything else going on,” she’d said, scrolling through her phone. “And if there’s brunch afterward, count me in.”

Classic Harper. Casual agreement, emotional firewall firmly in place. But I’ll take it.

Olivia, on the other hand, was more hesitant.

“I’ve got plans,” she said quickly, eyes flicking away.

I didn’t press. Even though I’m pretty sure her plans involve avoiding emotional vulnerability and binge-watching true crime, but I get it, so I don’t push.

We pull into the church parking lot, the sunlight catching the building just right, and I pause, taking it in. Harper glances over at me.

“You, okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, smiling. “Just, glad you’re here.”

She gasps. “Ivy, you’re glowing. Either it’s love or the bad coffee. I’m betting love.”

I roll my eyes. “Let’s go. ”

Inside, the church is already buzzing with activity—volunteers setting up signs, fresh coffee being poured into cups of tired guests. It’s warm, welcoming, and now oh so familiar even though this is only my second time at church.

We are walking down the main hallway when a door down the back hallway opens and Gray steps through with his guitar in hand, earbuds tucked around his neck.

His eyes find mine instantly and that familiar spark lights up his face like it always does when he sees me.

My stomach does that little flip it’s started doing whenever he's near.

“Hey you,” he says, voice warm as he pulls me in for a quick side-hug. I have grown to love the way he says those words in greeting. “I was hoping I’d catch you before service.”

“Well, looks like you got lucky,” I smile, my heart doing cartwheels. “Oh!” I turn slightly. “Gray, this is Harper. Harper, this is Gray.”

He shifts his attention to her, offering a handshake. “Nice to finally meet you. Ivy told me all about you and Olivia.”

Harper raises a brow. “Hopefully she left out the embarrassing stuff.”

Gray grins. “Nothing but glowing reviews. She’s lucky to have you.”

Harper smirks. “She is.”

Gray laughs, then turns back to me, that soft focus settling behind his eyes again.

“Hey, do you have plans after service?” he asks casually. But there’s a hopeful edge to it, like he’s already bracing for me to say no.

Before I can answer, Harper jumps in. “Yep! We’re going to brunch, then to look at plants. I’m pretty sure my last succulent died of loneliness. Time to replace him. ”

Gray’s eyebrows lift slightly. “You’re going plant shopping?”

Harper nods. “Yep! And maybe grab some new pots if I’m feeling ambitious.” She turns to me with a grin. “You still good with that, right?”

“Of course,” I say, glancing back at Gray. His expression flickers, just for a second. A small hesitation. I catch the way his jaw tenses, how his hand slides into his back pocket like he’s holding something back. “Would you like to join us?”

There’s a pause, and I swear I can see him weighing his options. He opens his mouth slightly, then shuts it. Finally, he clears his throat. “No, it’s okay. Y’all have your girl time.” His smile is polite, almost too practiced.

My heart dips, just a bit. I don’t want him to feel left out, but Harper’s already looping her arm through mine, clearly ready to go find our seats and move on with our morning.

“Maybe I’ll see you later?” I offer.

His eyes brighten slightly, his smile softening around the edges. “Yeah? You promise?”

I nod. “Promise.”

His grin grows, and he gives my hand a quick squeeze before stepping back. “I’ll hold you to that.”

I watch him disappear through the door, his silhouette slipping into the shadows of the hallway. When he’s gone, I swear I can still feel the warmth of his hand pressed against mine.

As soon as the door closes behind him, Harper nudges me. “He’s even cuter than I remember.”

I shake my head, laughing. “You’re a menace.”

She sips her coffee, unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

We’re passing by the Children’s ministry area, almost to the sanctuary doors when we hear raised voices near the corner of the check-in area.

“I don’t want to!”

Harper and I both pause and turn just in time to see a little boy, probably five or six, tear around the corner, tears streaming down his face.

Harper’s eyes widen. “That’s one of my students from last year.”

Before I can respond, she’s already moving.

Harper drops to her knees without hesitation and he runs straight into her arms like she’s the only safe place in the world.

“Hey, buddy,” she says gently. “What’s going on?”

He clutches her like he’s been lost for hours. “I—I didn’t know where my dad went.”

“He just walked you to your room, right?” she soothes, rubbing his back. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Micah approaches from the opposite hallway, cautious but concerned. “Hey, is he with you?”

Harper stands, one hand still on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s one of my students, I teach Kindergarten at the local elementary school.”

He furrows his brow. “Okay, but you can’t just take him out of the room. I didn’t see a name tag on you. We have policies for a reason.”

“I didn’t take him,” Harper says, defensive now. “He ran to me. And I’m not trying to sneak him out, I’m trying to help.”

Micah crosses his arms, skeptical. “I get that, but without a background check on file, you can’t just…”

“I have a background check,” she snaps. “It’s literally required to work in the school system. ”

He raises an eyebrow. “And I’m just supposed to take your word on that?”

I try not to laugh. Harper’s jaw drops, offended in that Harper way that’s a perfect mix of sass and disbelief.

“You seriously think I’m lying about being a teacher?” she asks.

He doesn’t answer. Just shrugs one shoulder.

Luckily the classroom volunteer appears, calling for the boy, who now seems perfectly content with a cup of animal crackers and a sticker.

Harper exhales, tension still riding high, but she turns back to Micah.

“Fine. Where do I go to fill out your precious background check?”

He nods to a computer station by the door. “There. It only takes a minute.”

Harper marches over to the computer station by the classroom check-in desk, muttering something under her breath about red tape and overly suspicious church staff. I follow a few steps behind, but it’s Micah who really watches her.

And I mean watches her.

Not in a creepy way, just casually, yet with unmistakable focus.

Like he’s taking mental notes. Harper’s hips sway slightly as she types, her fingers jabbing at the keys like each click is making a point.

Her bright red hair catches the light, wild and fierce, a perfect match for the fire in her eyes.

Her jaw is tight. She’s not letting this go.

Leave it to Harper to prove a point and submit to a background check out of spite.

She hits the final key like a mic drop, turns sharply, and looks directly at Micah.

“See you next weekend. ”

She says it with such conviction, I almost want to applaud.

He doesn’t flinch. “We’ll contact you if it’s approved.”

Harper halts mid-stride and swirls back toward him, stomping up until she’s standing a little too close.

She’s small next to him, Micah towers over her, taller than I realized, with messy brown hair that somehow still looks intentional and a calm, steady presence that feels like the exact opposite of her storm.

He looks down at her, expression unreadable behind his thick frames, like nothing she says could rattle him. And for a beat, it’s like the air shifts between them—like even their differences can’t stop whatever is happening here.

“It will be approved,” she says flatly.

They stare at each other for a half-second too long, and I swear, the tension in the air could be bottled.

Then, without another word, she turns on her heel and heads toward me.

As we walk toward the sanctuary, I glance back just in time to catch it—Micah’s mouth tugging into the tiniest smirk. The kind you try to fight off but lose to anyway.

I mouth a quick, “Sorry.”

He shakes his head with a mix of exasperation and amusement, then disappears back toward the children’s hallway.

I lean closer to Harper and whisper, “I think he’s like…the man in charge of the entire kids’ area.”

She blinks. “Figures. Control issues.”

I snort.

“Sorry,” she says as we slip into the hallway toward the main doors. “Didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

I shrug, smiling. “You know, for all your dramatics, I think you just signed yourself up to serve. ”

Harper doesn’t respond right away, but the way her expression softens just a little tells me she’s happy about it.

We push open the sanctuary doors just as the final worship song begins.

The lights are low, the atmosphere thick with reverence. Music swells from the stage, the rich harmonies are a slow build of instruments layered beneath a single voice that I’d know anywhere.

We squeeze into two open seats, basically the only ones open, nearly in the front row. I hesitate for a split second because I’ve never sat this close to any stage, and something about being here, this close to him, makes me nervous.

I glance up and find him in the center of it all. Guitar strapped across his chest, eyes closed, his hand lifted toward Heaven like its second nature. His brow is furrowed, not with effort but with focus, like the rest of the world has fallen away and it’s just him and God.

And I can’t look away.

There’s something so humbling about it—watching him worship like that. Not performing. Not trying. Just…pouring out his true feelings.

The lyrics are from a song I’ve never heard before—another original, maybe? The words reach into places I haven’t let myself name. About being fully known and still loved. About not needing to earn love to be worthy of it.

Something cracks open in my chest.

It’s not a tear, not a breakdown. Just this sudden, gentle ache.

Like someone just whispered: this is for you.

The song builds one final time—Gray’s voice rising, steady and sure, like a prayer he’s already lived through. And when the last note fades, the room is still, hearts full.

Everyone begins to sit .

Everyone but me.

I’m frozen in place, the weight of the lyrics still pressing down on me.

I glance toward the stage and find him already watching me.

Gray meets my gaze and gives the tiniest wave, his lips curved into a soft smile like he knows. Like somehow, he knows exactly how I am feeling.

My heart stumbles.

I wave back without meaning to, and it hits me how visible I am right now, how obviously wrecked I must look.

Harper gently tugs my sleeve. I blink, glancing around to realize I’m the only one still standing.

My cheeks flush hot as I quickly plop down into my seat.

Harper leans in, voice low but warm. “What was that?”

I nod, breathless. “Just…got caught up for a second.”

She smiles like she gets it.

“Oh Ivy, you’ve got it bad,” she smirks. “I am so here for this.”

But maybe it’s not just Gray I’ve got it bad for. Maybe it’s this thing called the Holy Spirit that people keep talking about.