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I grin. “It was Pastor Dave from First Covenant.”
“Oh, that’s right.” He flinches ever so slightly, clearly not needing any more explanation. Dave was once his pastor too.
“Even as a kid, I knew his answers were bullshit. I once asked him to prove to me that God exists, and he said, ‘Just look around you. Could all this beauty exist without God?’” I grimace. “What kind of answer is that?”
Brandon’s gaze is intense and assessing, and my cheeks grow warm. With effort, I shoot him a cheeky smile. “What would you say? If a kid asked you that question, I mean.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I’d say I can’t prove that God exists.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s too easy.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Then why do you believe in something with no evidence?” I gesture at the stack of books. “You’re an educated person. Doesn’t it bother you?”
His lips quirk. “Not really.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m much happier now than before I became a Christian. I don’t mind being wrong if it makes my life better.”
I scowl. “How? I don’t understand it. Livvy says the exact same thing. How can people be happy that way?” I shake my head. “And why has it never worked for me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Am I just a big know-it-all, and I have to be right all the time, even when it doesn’t matter?”
His eyes alight, and he looks like he’s repressing a smile. “I don’t know.”
My stomach flutters. It’s the look again. As if he’s amused with me.
No, delighted.
Fuck, I love talking to him about this stuff. I’ve never known a Christian who could debate with me philosophically without letting emotions get in the way. My dad can’t even do it, and he’s a damn lawyer. When I was a kid, he was a criminal defense attorney, and yet he seemed afraid of my questions. Fear seems to override reason with a certain type of Christian.
I love that Brandon is fearless. I love that he’s giving me this warm, beautiful smile that makes my stomach flutter.
I hope my giddiness isn’t written on my face. I don’t want to seem like a silly little girl. I want him to see how competent I am at this job.
“What’s with this big pile of books?” I ask, grasping for a change of subject.
Brandon’s eyes follow my gaze, clouding when they land on the stack. “Textbooks. Articles. Information I gathered in graduate school and after. I refer to them sometimes when I write my sermons. They used to be in my home office, but I spend so much more time here, so it didn’t make sense to keep them there anymore.”
I nod as my gaze roves over the stack. It must be nearly four feet tall. “It can’t be easy to find what you need...”
“It isn’t. I’ve been meaning to organize it for weeks now. Instead, I just shift the piles around when I need something.”
“Why don’t I organize it for you?”
His expression shutters.” There’s no need.”
“It sounds like there is.”
“I don’t want to make you do something so tedious.”
“It wouldn’t be tedious at all. I’ll get to browse through the books while I figure out an organization system. For a history major, that’s like Christmas morning.”
When I grin, his jaw stiffens. Why does he seem irritated that I want to help out?
