Page 10 of Divine Temptations

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he looked down at his feet, one boot scuffing a dry patch of grass. He let out a breath, slow and careful, like the words needed a permission slip before they could exit his mouth.

“I came to see you,” he said. “See if you were like the rest of the Bible thumpers around here, and I’m happy I did.”

Oh.

I swallowed hard. The wind stirred the edge of my shirt. Somewhere in the distance, a bird chirped like it was trying to lighten the mood.

And yet all I could see was Jake.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and for reasons I couldn’t begin to explain, my eyes locked onto it like it held the answer to a prayer I hadn’t dared say aloud.

Why the hell couldn’t I stop staring? I blinked hard, forcing myself to look away.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

Jake just smiled. Not smug. Not knowing. Just… kind.

I hadn’t realized how rare that was.

We lingered just outside the sanctuary doors, the sound of laughter and clinking dishes drifting over from the fellowship hall like it belonged to someone else’s life. Jake leaned against the railing of the front steps, one boot hooked over the other, his arms crossed. I stood a few feet away, shifting awkwardly like a teenager waiting to be noticed.

He turned slightly toward me, head tilted. “You really believe all that? What you said up there?”

I blinked. “Yeah. I do.”

He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing—not suspicious, but like he was… impressed? Or maybe just trying to figure me out. “Even the ‘love thy neighbor’ bit?”

“Especially that part,” I said. “Though I think half the people in that sanctuary thought I was trying to start an orgy.”

Jake laughed. Actually laughed. Low, warm, and easy, and I felt it settle on my chest like a weighted blanket. “Well, that explains the coughing fits.”

“I swear,” I said, lowering my voice, “one guy in the front row sounded like he was choking on his own judgment.”

Jake grinned, then gave me a long look, the kind that felt like a spotlight and a secret handshake all in one. “You’re not like the rest of them.”

“Is that good or bad?”

He shrugged, but the corners of his mouth tugged upward. “Good. Definitely good.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The breeze picked up, stirring the hem of my shirt again, and Jake’s eyes dropped just slightly before he caught himself.

Or maybe I imagined that.

I did that sometimes. Made mountains out of passing glances. Built little castles of possibility from kind words and crooked smiles. Still… the way he looked at me. There was something in his eyes.

Jake glanced toward the hall. “You gonna go in?”

I sighed. “I probably should. If I don’t, they’ll think I’m snubbing them.”

Jake snorted. “Snubbing them would be the proper thing to do.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Jake…”

He cut himself off with a nervous laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “Sorry. That was… rude.” Jake looked at me again, this time less guarded. Like he was weighing something. His lips parted slightly, and before I could say another word, he stepped closer and placed a hand on my shoulder. His thumb grazed the fabric of my shirt, and I swear to God, every nerve ending in my body stood at attention.

Then he asked in a low voice, “You ever been on a motorcycle before?”