Page 23 of Love Everlasting

Cat rolled on her side like before, head propped. “Yeah? Well, welcome to the club, Carmichael, because you sure put us through the wringer before you got religion.”

“What about Chase?” Shannon asked as she slipped a sock on her foot, thinking the good-looking associate pastor at Hope Church was just what her sister needed. “He’s the best of both worlds, Cat—a bad boy who found religion, just like Jack.”

“Yeah, he’s hot, no doubt about that.” Her face screwed in a frown as if she were contemplating the option. “But pastor types like Chase have such strict policies, not to mention preaching at you all the time, and I want to have some fun for a while. Call me crazy, but right now I’d trust a bad boy way before a preacher because at least he’s looking for fun, too.”

“Call you crazy?” Lacey grunted. “You are crazy, O’Bryen. I should have Jack fix you up with a psych major.”

Cat glanced up, a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. “Ooooo … you think he would?”

Shannon chuckled to deflect her worry over a sister whose interest in spiritual things was on the wane. “Then you’d be locked up for good, sis, once he finds out how crazy you are.”

“Yeah, crazy fun,” Cat said with a gleam of trouble in her eyes.

Shannon pinched her sister’s waist, Cat’s slow spiritual decline at the top of her prayer list these days. “Uh, you do remember the pact we made with Jack way back when, right? Where we promised to wait until marriage for certain kinds of ‘fun’?”

A heavy sigh blustered from Cat’s lips. “Yeah, yeah, just another example of Jack’s lock and key, Shan, but don’t worry. I’ll do my best to honor it because I love you both.”

“And God?” Lacey asked, a sobriety in her eyes despite the smile on her face.

“Yes, Mother, I love God, so you can tuck your sermon back in your pocket.” Cat sat up, as is she were ready to flee any conversation that included spirituality. “I just don’t have to like Him a lot right now, that’s all.”

Shannon’s heart constricted. A ‘dislike’ that had clearly been deepening over the last few months.

Since Daddy died.

“So don’t go all gloomy on me, guys,” Cat said quickly, all humor suddenly depleted in both her tone and her voice. “God and I are just taking a break from each other for a while till I can hash out a few things in my mind, that’s all.”

“He’s real good at hashing things out, Cat,” Lacey said quietly, “but not if you don’t talk to Him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still a little ticked over Daddy, Lace, so maybe it’s better I wait.” She hooked an arm around Shannon’s shoulders. “Besides, you have bigger problems right now since the sweet and spiritual twin has a date with the dangerous Dr. Love.”

“I keep telling you—it’s not a date!” Shannon insisted, unlatching Cat’s arm when she bent to put on her shoe. “You guys already know I have a strict no-dating policy, so I guarantee it won’t be this twin giving anyone any problems.”

Lacey nudged Shannon’s hip with her foot, her tease laced with warning in spite of the grin on her face. “It better not be, Shan, now or ever, because Jack and I have enough trouble on our hands keeping your evil twin in line.”

“Ha!” Cat said, rising from the bed with a lazy stretch. “I’d say Shan’s the one with trouble on her hands because according to half the nurses at Memorial, Sam Cunningham is an addiction without any cure.” She bent to press a kiss to her sister’s head before tweaking her neck. “So stay on your guard, sis, because I’d sure hate to see the good twin go through a nasty withdrawal.”

Shannon huffed out a sigh, bending to tie her other shoe.

Join the club.

Chapter Thirteen

One leg jiggling over his knee, Sam drummed his fingers on the patio café table at Cutter’s, glancing at his watch for the umpteenth time. “Where the heck is she?” he muttered, well aware it was two minutes to four, so Shannon wasn’t technically late. But it felt like he’d been waiting for days, the Pepcid AC he took a while ago doing nothing for the churning in his stomach. He could blame it on the four cappuccinos he’d had since he’d arrived an hour ago, he supposed. Or the ten-mile jog this morning before he went home and changed, which had been more of a run for his life than a jog. Or even the stupid bees that buzzed around the pot of petunias hanging next to his table. He swatted at one who zipped too close. Bees made him downright nervous since they liked to sting him too much.

Just like Jasmine was about to do.

He upended his cup, then scowled when sludge trickled down his throat. Nope, it didn’t take a medical degree to diagnose the awful pains in his stomach because he knew exactly why they were there. Jazz was coming over tomorrow to pick up the rest of her things.

Including her favorite swimsuit.

For a trip to the Bahamas.

With the intern.

“Where are you, Shannon, I need you,” he muttered under his breath, switching legs to twitch the other over his knee while the leather tie on his tan Topsiders flopped in the air, as goosey as him. He looked at his watch again before scanning the parking lot, the sight of her car pulling in both expanding his rib cage in relief and racing his pulse more than the stupid coffee. She got out of her car and he exhaled slowly, thinking she had to be one of the purest, most natural women he’d ever seen, sun glinting off strawberry blonde hair thrown into an adorable messy bun as unpretentious as she.

A slow smile slid across his face as he watched her, always amazed how unspoiled she looked with her clean peaches-and-cream complexion and smattering of near-invisible freckles. Like a Georgia peach, just beginning to turn lush and ripe. Even from across the parking lot, he could see a spark of fire in those blue eyes, and his smile blossomed into a grin at the tight press of her lips. Generous lips usually full in repose, the color of pale raspberries and just as sweet.