13. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Lucy
U pon waking to an aching, heaving chest, panting breaths, and a sticky sweat coating my… everywhere, I check the unnamed red flower app on my phone.
Ovulation week.
That’s why I had that dream. There’s absolutely no other reason that Stone starred in my dreams like a…
Like a…
I groan and smother my face with my pink pillow, resisting the urge to release a built-up scream of sexual frustration and immense guilt. Not to mention my chest is absolutely killing me from the apparent seven CPR compressions I had to be given yesterday. Stone forced me to go to the hospital, and I was checked and cleared with only bruising and no cracked ribs, but the way that man took care of me and watched me with his own two blackened eyes…
It did something to me.
Which is why I think I dreamed of him doing something to me …
Or it could have been my body wanting an extension of what we started yesterday morning.
You can’t control your dreams, Lucy. It’s okay. Give it to God.
Yes, that’s what I have to do. What I must do. There’s no other option right now.
I dig around for my journal, which I had shoved under the bed in case Stone came snooping around the room while I wasn’t here. Frantically turning the pages until I’m on a blank one, I begin to jot down my feelings surrounding what happened yesterday and my dream from last night: guilt, pleasure, desire, frustration, anger, disgust… the list goes on and on. I let it all out and give it to the Lord, begging Him to strip away the heated urge to rectify the situation myself.
Or to bop myself right down the hallway where I know he’s sleeping.
When I finish my entry, I throw the journal across the room and clench the bedsheets in my fists. Real life synthesizes with the dream, vivid in my head, making everything so. much. worse. Why is it always the dreams you want to forget that linger upon waking?
God, please!
Stone’s hands running underneath my shirt yesterday…
No. Stop thinking about it!
His lips tracing my jaw, traveling down my neck and…
Jesus, please! Make it go away!
I kick my legs and jump to my feet, determined to find something to occupy my thoughts. Anything. Anything to distract me from the pain pooling in my stomach and the constant ache in my chest that reminds me he saved my life even when I wanted to die .
A gentle knock at my door startles me from the war raging within my head, and Stone’s mother says she has breakfast prepared. I respond with a cheerful thank you and let her know I’ll be down shortly.
I change into the floral maxi sundress I brought to attend Stone’s home church and sit down on my bed, covering my face with my hands. Shame floods my entire being. Outside the guilt over yesterday that I’ve been locking away inside a vault, it’s been months since I’ve had a dream like that. And the last one wasn’t as vivid as this one. I didn’t know the man who showed up in that dream.
Stone, I know. I learned more than I should have thanks to our slip up yesterday.
That fatal fantasy dream seemed to fill in the gaps of what I didn’t learn.
And he’s just down the hall…
Gah, stop it, Lucy! You made a mistake but you can’t go there anymore.
Picking up my phone from the bedside table, I send a frantic, pleaful text to one woman I know without a doubt will understand me. She’s been my confidant in the past when it has come to my slip ups.
Me: I had a *dream* last night, Hads. A dirty one. And I haven’t told you this, and I’m sorry for that, but I’m kinda dating the guy I dreamed about. And we totally made out and stuff yesterday morning. I think I would have gone all the way had his mom and stepdad not come into the house .
Bubbles pop up immediately, and I wait three grueling minutes for the text to come through.
Hads: Can I call you? You don’t have to talk. I just want to verbally say what I have to say. Text message isn’t cutting it.
I click on her contact and bring the phone to my ear. She answers on the first ring.
“Okay, girlfriend. Listen up. First off, I love you. There is nothing inherently wrong with the dream you had. The desires you are feeling are natural. I know you understand this, but I just wanted to be sure I reminded you. You made out with him. Sounds like it went a little further than it should have, but that doesn’t mean you are now hopeless and can’t recover.
“Secondly, I am praying for you. You, Lorelei, and Braxton were so patient and good to me even when I dissed Christianity. Now, I get to return the favor and pray even more for you than I already have been. It’s hard to believe He is there and working even in the midst of your dark thoughts and sins, but He is. Believe me, I know. I can look back and see His hand in my dark times. Especially that blackout summer of mine.
“Thirdly, if you mess up again or end up going all the way, you are still very much loved. The way the Lord loves you, the way I love you, the way your sister loves you, the way your parents love you… It’s not diminished or taken away by a mistake. Do you understand me?”
I sniffle, trying to collect my bearings. Tears flow freely down my face as I clutch my free hand over my mouth to stifle my cries. Snot leaks out of my nose and onto my hand. I can’t formulate words, nor do I want to try and respond appropriately on the premise someone hears me, so all I say is, “I understand. I love you, Hadley. So much.”
I know she loves me. And my family and sister. I know God says He loves me, but honestly, I’ve doubted that lately. I try not to let the doubts win out, but it’s hard when it’s so loud and I feel so… empty. At least I finally felt alive again as Stone touched me.
“Ditto. Now dry yourself up, listen to some worship music, and steer clear of Taylor Swift for a while, okay? Oh! Or you can turn on some Dolly. That’s what I would do. Will you be at church today?”
I laugh at her Taylor suggestion, but I can’t deny it’s true. “As much as you love Dolly Parton, I’ll try the worship music. Actually, I’m in Dasher Valley with my boyfriend. I’ll be going to church here today.”
“Oh.” I hear the shock in her voice. “So, who is this boyfriend of yours that you’re all the way down in Dasher Valley?”
My insides twist like strings being pulled into knots over and over again. “Stone,” I breathe out after a moment. There’s no way I’m telling her this is fake and that I’m getting all hot and bothered over a pretend relationship. That I let him touch me like that when it’s all fake.
“I see,” is all she says. “Have you told Lorelei? Karoline?” “Not yet.” I sigh and plop onto the bed, wiping away excess tears. “Please don’t tell my sister. I will eventually. I just need some time to figure things out first.” Time to go ahead and end it before I even need to tell them, that is .
“‘Kay. Well, I need to finish getting ready for church, but I love you and I’m here for you. Reach out if you need me, Luce Goose.”
“Love you, Hads. Thanks.” I hang up and toss the phone aside.
Finally feeling like I can breathe a little, I thank God for such a wonderful best friend. It’s funny that I can actively thank Him or pray to Him when it’s on someone else’s behalf. I make a mental note to see her as soon as I get back to Juniper Grove and tell her everything. Even if I don’t tell Lorelei I’m fake dating Stone, I can tell Hadley. She will understand me. I think.
She’s got her life together, now, Lucy. She’s not the troubled one in the friend group anymore. You are.
I dismiss the thoughts even as they continue to ring true and make perfect sense to me. Maybe I won’t tell her it was a ruse, after all. Besides, it’ll be over once we leave here. I can tell her I broke up with him because of the struggle I’m having. Yeah, that’s believable.
Shaking my entire body as if it will free me from the tingling energy coursing through me, I blow out a breath of air and stare at my disheveled hair and fired-up, puffy eyes in the stand-up mirror across from the bed. My chest aches with each breath, a constant reminder of the kind of man Stone actually is—one that saves lives. And forces me to go to the hospital even when I don’t want to. And takes care of me all evening long by turning on rom-coms and watching them with me, getting me food when I ask, and whipping up delicious hot chocolate simply because I spoke an off-hand thought stating I wanted it. “Okay. We are going to go to the bathroom and wash our face and put on our makeup and forget this dream—or yesterday—ever occurred, okay, Lucy girl? We’ve got this.”
Not even remotely confident in my self-talk, I trudge out into the hallway, lifting a silent, unbelieving prayer that I do not run into Stone until I’ve had time to cool myself down. The Lord must be listening because I get through my makeup routine, brush my teeth, fix my hair, and make it back to the bedroom without even a peep from Stone or sounds of movement from within his room across from the bathroom.
I descend the stairs after putting on my jewelry and join Marian and Brother Johnny at the breakfast table. “Where’s Stone?” I casually ask, willing my face not to heat.
“He’s getting ready in our bathroom,” Brother Johnny, who is dressed in a suit, says after he pours me a cup of black coffee. “Cream and sugar?”
“Yes, please.” It’s definitely a sweet coffee kind of day. I mix the cream and sugar into my coffee, watching as the blackness turns to a medium brown. It’s soothing, and I begin to feel my shoulders relax.
Right on cue, I hear a door open down the way from the kitchen, and then Stone appears with perfectly styled-back hair wearing those ridiculously hot khaki slim-fit pants with a fitted purple polo tucked in. The lavender color matches my sundress, and we truly look like we are a couple doing the absolute most to sport our coupleness.
“You two have to let me take your picture,” Marian pipes up, standing up from her chair and smoothing down her brown skirt with shaky hands. “Actually, Johnny. Can you take it for me? I don’t want it to come out blurry.”
“Sure can, sweetie. Hand me your phone.”
Stone walks up to me wearing that stupid sensual smirk of his, and my body riots to be touched by him. He holds out his hand, which I have no choice but to take. Ah, the awfulness… The moment my skin touches his rough hands, the dream I’ve worked so hard all morning to repress comes back with a valiant roar. “You look beautiful, my little lion.”
Flashes of him whispering that nickname into my ear as he nibbled on my lobe guts me.
How?!
How do I go to church when these awful, horrid thoughts that stem from my imagination blended with a morsel of real life keep popping into my head as a reminder of how shameful I can be?
Jesus, please…. Help me take these thoughts captive. I’m trying. Where are You?
“Lucy, hon. Are you okay? You look sick.” Marian limps towards me, and I make a note to ask Stone about that later. I’m assuming it has to do with her rheumatoid arthritis. She places the back of her hand to my forehead. “Hm. You’re a little warm. Let’s take your temperature.”
“Oh, I’m fine, Marian. Please don’t worry yourself.”
Skepticism etches across her face. “Are you sure?”
I nod, and she relents. “Well, get their picture, honey.” She playfully elbows Brother Johnny as Stone casually slips his arm around my waist and tucks me into his side. As if the action is second nature, I wrap my arm around his back, turn into him, and bring my left hand to rest flat against his chest.
Brother Johnny takes a few pictures, and when he shows them to me, I’m speechless.
We look good together.
Like really good.
The perfect rom-com pairing type of good.
“Send those to me, will ya?” Stone says, patting Brother Johnny on his back. Then he sits down at the table, and we all have an innocent breakfast as if my thoughts don’t keep bouncing between imagining pleasurable sins and guilty shame at how hard it is to control my thoughts. Though as the time wears on, I slowly gain control, thinking of everything else under the sun.
I assist Marian in cleaning up the dishes from the table while Stone quickly washes them. When everything is put away, Brother Johnny asks if me and Stone will be riding with him and Marian.
Stone replies that he has other transportation plans for us then takes my hand and leads us outside.
He opens the back door of his truck, and I walk around to hop in the passenger seat, ready to get out of the humid morning heat, but he stops me.
“We are taking the bike, Lucy May.”
My jaw drops. “Do what? I don’t have a—”
He cuts off my speech by holding up a pale pink leather jacket with a matching helmet. I don’t know if I want to smack or kiss the stupid grin off his face. Of all the guys I’ve dated, none of them has had a bike, and I’ve always wanted to ride one .
“Are you serious? When did you get these?” I snatch the jacket from his hand and hold it out in front of me. It’s genuine leather, the perfect pale pink color, has a golden zipper, and four pockets total.
I’m in love.
With the jacket. Not the man.
Stone chuckles, takes my new jacket from me, and then helps me put it on. “I bought it the evening after you agreed to come down here with me. I figured I’d take you riding at some point and wanted you to have appropriate gear. Though,” he moves to stand in front of me and looks down at my sandaled feet, “I would prefer it if you slipped off the open-toed shoes.”
“Say no more.” I bound up the stairs and into the house, switching my white sandals for white sneakers. It’s cool. I’ll look like my sister rocking dresses and sneakers.
Dress.
“Shoot.”
“Lucy,” Stone shouts from outside. “Don’t worry about the dress. It’s long enough.”
How in the world does that man read me when he can’t even see me?
I meet him back outside beside the black motorcycle. “What do you mean it’s long enough?”
“As you get onto the bike, tuck the insides of your dress into your thighs and sit on it. Your dress will ride up some, but it won’ t be inappropriate.”
“You’ve driven many women in dresses on this bike, haven’t you?” The tease in my voice is overshadowed by a trace of bitter jealousy.
Nope. Nope. Nope. He is not mine. This is fake. I’m not allowed to be jealous.
He shrugs and tucks my hair behind my ears. “None quite like you, Little Lion.”
I stare into his eyes, which are brightly illuminated by the morning sun. He kisses my cheek, and I attempt to push him away but he pulls me into a hug. “Mom is walking out the door. Act like you love me, darlin’.”
I wrap my leathered arms around him and lean my head against his chest. For the singular moment, I give myself permission to close my eyes and breathe him in.
Love.
My heartbeat quickens. No, I don’t love Stone. That’s impossible. It’s just lust… Good old fashioned desire at play. Nothing more.
“Get to church, you two.” Marian laughs then climbs into Brother Johnny’s vehicle with his assistance.
“See y’all there,” he says with a wave, and then he hops in and they drive off.
“You ready?” Stone asks, handing me the helmet. I smooth down my bangs, thankful I straightened them instead of wearing them curly like the rest of my hair. I’ll have to pull my hair into a ponytail once we get to church, but I’m not giving up this opportunity. I place the helmet onto my head then Stone secures it into place for me. He knocks the top of it while grinning and commenting on how cute I look. I bask under the praise even though I know I should retort with a pushback or something. He slips on his jacket and secures his helmet before hopping onto the bike. I pause for a moment to admire the image, but then he turns around and offers his hand to help me on.
I oblige and do as he instructs once I’m on. It’s not entirely comfortable, but I shouldn’t flash anyone as we ride.
“Hold on to me tight, Lucy May,” Stone says before cranking the motorcycle. It roars to life, and my entire body vibrates. I snake my arms around him and clutch my hands together, leaning into his body. I swear I hear him groan and say “there you go” before he revs and shifts, then off we go.
The air swishes around us as we drive down the gravel road and turn onto the highway. As he increases speed, the trees zip by us, and I’ve never felt more alive and free as I do at this moment. The wind feels as if it’s hugging me, telling me I’ll be okay. Like it’s asking me to release all my troubles to it to be blown far, far away.
But then again, I think I’m only okay because of the man I’m clinging to. He’s reignited a spark of joy within my life through his playfulness. He’s sparked my heart back to life through his lips. And currently, his bergamot and cacao scent fuddles my brain as it infiltrates my screened helmet. I could go on smelling this for the rest of my existence and not tire of it…
We take a curve, our bodies leaning in tandem. My hands splay across his stomach as I hold on, and I find myself counting the abs I feel underneath his dress shirt. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven …
He slows down, pulling off to the side of the road, and stops the bike. He lifts the front of his face shield as he turns around, wearing a satisfied smirk. “Lucy May, are you feeling me up on our way to church?”
Heat blazes across my face, but I shake my head in denial and slight guilt. He only laughs, and as he lowers the shield, he says, “Keep it up. I don’t mind. I’ll flex for you, baby girl.”
I slap my hands on his waist with a little more force than necessary as the nickname echoes around my brain. If he ends up giving me a “good girl” at some point, all resolve and restraint I’m clinging to may snap.
Yeah, I’m the girl who likes those types of nicknames and preens under praise. I personally do not feel infantilized or turned off by it like my twin.
Stone faces forward, chuckling to himself as he revs the bike and takes off. I wrap my arms tightly around him, willing them to stay put instead of exploring. He’s not going as fast as before, and within moments, he takes to driving with one hand and places his other on top of my hands. When his pinky finger intertwines with mine, I once more wonder how in the world I’m supposed to pretend all of this did not happen come tomorrow morning.
The rest of the ride isn’t long enough.
We arrive at the small, backwoods country church within a matter of minutes, and I already miss being pressed up against him, the wind caressing my neck, and the feeling of absolute freedom as we took the backroads.
Once we’re parked and have our helmets off, Stone plays with my hair. “How was it? ”
“Exhilarating,” I breathe. “I should learn to drive it and get my own.”
“Mm,” Stone hums as he fingers my bangs. “I can totally see you in a black leather suit riding a pink bike. I support this new endeavor of yours.”
“Stone!” I lightly tap his arm as he chuckles. “We are at church.” Not going to mention me copping a feel back there though…
“Seems so,” he says, all humor suddenly falling away.
I drop my arm to my side. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“Your change of demeanor just now.”
He ruffles the top of my head, messing up whatever fixing he had done. “It’s nothing, Little Lion. Let’s go in, shall we?”
I nod, dropping the subject, and follow him into the little brick church.
The inside is as small as the outside. There is a rectangular foyer area with enough space for two elderly gentlemen to greet us.
“Stone! It’s good to see you again.” The balding gentleman shakes his hand and looks over at me. “Who’s the pretty little lady with you?”
“My girlfriend, Lucy Spence.” Stone’s tone is flat even though he’s smiling, and I suddenly feel out of place. Like I don’t belong at his side bearing such a title. If I could shrink, I would.
I shake the older man’s hand as he introduces himself as Ronnie, stating he used to hold Stone as a baby in the nursery. He then begins to go on a memory trail regarding hunting trips with Stone’s father. Stone stiffens at my side, his hand finding mine. He laces our fingers together, clenching tightly as if my hand’s the rail he’s gripping onto for safety and stability.
Maybe he’s not upset with me?
Gah, Lucy. Who cares? Quit overthinking things. This is fake. Just because we kissed and touched doesn’t mean I’m his girlfriend. He said he doesn’t commit right to your face. And that’s why nothing more will happen regardless of your deadly mental imaginations in the depths of sleep.
“Well, Mr. Ronnie. It was good to see you. We better go find our seats.” Stone drags me behind him as he bolts from the foyer and into the small sanctuary.
The walls are bare with stained glass windows for lighting. Wooden pews with beige cushions line either side of the sand-colored carpeted floor. The space is homey and comforting, or it would be comforting if I actually wanted to be here.
Wanting to be in church and needing to be in church are two diametrically opposed concepts within my mind.
Stone stops mid-way to the front of the room and whispers in my ear. “Mom would have us sit up front with her, but I’d much prefer it here. What do you want?”
I nod my head towards the back, and a slow smile creeps onto his face. He turns on his heel and then drags me towards the back. Once we sit in the last row tucked in the corner like two teenage lovers trying to hide the fact we’d like to hold hands during the service, he finally breathes deeply.
“Stone, what’s going on? You’ve walled yourself up since I mentioned we were at church.” I continue to grip his hand even when he flexes his fingers like he might pull away. “I’m not trying to help you, okay? You can feel however you want to feel. I just want to know.”
He pegs me with a sharp stare, then giving in, he gestures around the building. “This. Being back here. I haven’t been back to this church since two summers ago when I was home from college.”
“Why does it bother you? Isn’t it your home church?”
He shrugs, shifting his gaze to the white popcorn ceiling. “Maybe it’s not just this church. Maybe it’s church in general. I didn’t go while in college, and I haven’t been to one since settling down in Juniper Grove.”
“What’s keeping you away?”
“Lucy,” Stone sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can we not talk about this right now?”
His tone is low, defeated, and a tinge frustrated like he’s a bear preparing to swipe. I need to back down. “Of course. Thanks for sharing with me. I’m with you, okay?” Not to mention I’ve only been going to church because Hadley and Grandma Netty expect to see me there. I try to listen to the sermons, but lately, everything is lost on me.
Or maybe I just don’t care to understand.
Brother Johnny stands behind the rectangular pulpit, greeting everyone and making morning announcements. I notice Gracie, with Abram on her hip and Jared by her side, arrives a little late, heading to the front to sit by Gracie’s family. I remember them from the wedding yesterday. The service continues with old hymnals and then an offering. When the message begins, and Brother Johnny begins to speak on purity of heart and mind, my stomach suddenly begins to revolt against breakfast .
“I don’t want to talk to you about purity culture today,” the preacher says, looking over the small, gathered crowd. “Purity, at its core, runs deeper than whether or not you sleep with someone outside of the confines of the marriage bed. Purity is about your heart.”
I swallow and rip my hand from Stone, conviction raining down on me like crashing waves over the dreamland grave I found myself in this morning.
Does Brother Johnny know? Did I make… noises? In my sleep?
Surely not. Lorelei has never told me I’ve talked in my sleep.
I know he wasn’t in the house when Stone laid me down on his bed.
Oh, crap! Are there cameras?!
My breath comes in shorter, quicker spurts as Brother Johnny continues preaching. “God knows we make mistakes. It doesn’t mean you are ruined or used or no longer welcomed in His court.”
The words enter my head but they don’t resonate within my heart.
So many people who call themselves Christian condemn girls like me. Why do you think I’ve had to hide it from my readers? They don’t want to read closed-door romance books written by a tainted woman. I’ve seen firsthand what some readers do to Christian authors who dare to explore the nuances of lust and attraction within their closed-door novels. It’s nasty.
If so many people who claim to love the Lord hold the opinion that women aren’t allowed to make mistakes when it comes to sexuality, then how does God still welcome girls like me? Why would He even want me when He has so many other perfect Christians to choose from?
“Lucy.” Stone’s lowered voice breaks my internal spiraling. I whip my head towards him, and I can see my own crazed disposition reflected in his glass eyes. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Okay,” I stammer, wishing I could disappear into the frigid air particles around me. He grabs my hand, and we duck out. I don’t look back to see if Brother Johnny is watching. I follow Stone, willingly running away from this swarm of confusing condemnation.