“A good reminder?”
“Yeah.” Her gaze met his. “That being seen in all my brokenness isn’t so bad after all.”
He couldn’t look away. A flicker of something... vulnerable, almost like a question, waited in her expression. The look pulled at a point in his chest, drawing him forward in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. “That’s a very good reminder for any story, even a fairy tale.”
Nine
Charlie saw Arran standing on the porch of Luke and Ellie’s sprawling log house, his blue button-up and jeans proving he’d probably just gotten home from church too. Her pulse gave an appreciative upswing at the sight of him. Of course, that morning in church she’d been called to appreciate God’s creation, so...
Good job on that one, God. Stellar, even.
And then he smiled as he walked toward her truck, and the “Hallelujah Chorus” rushed to mind, unbidden.
She looked down at her purse to gather her emotions. Just because he’d improved exponentially upon further acquaintance didn’t mean she needed to get all googly-eyed over some prince who was headed back to his country in a little over a month.
A prince!
Silly really.
Ridiculous.
But something had changed in their friendship after their meeting at her house.
A tender understanding.
After what she’d discovered about him from Ellie’s comments and her online search, maybe he understood her struggles a little more than she could have imagined. How surreal not only to have casual and not-so-casual conversations with a prince but to connect with him at such a very real heart level. In those conversations... well, hehadn’t seemed so much like a prince as much as just a regular guy. Struggling, searching, hoping like a normal person.
Except he smelled like cardamom, had a distractingly lovely accent, and looked like a blonder Chris Evans.
Which was not her usual “guy group” of sweaty carpenters who tended to speak in partial sentences using sports references.
Her grin tipped.Well, not all of them. Just the majority.
He opened her truck door, and that blue gaze trailed down her and back, appreciation lighting his eyes.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
He offered his hand. “The brown skirt and blue wrap blouse, Miss Edgewood?”
“Too much?” She cringed. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Not at all.” One corner of his mouth rose as his gaze took another sweep of her. “Certainly a gift for all who saw you this morning, I’d imagine, but...” His gaze moved back to hers. “You look lovely in a ball cap and jeans. The real question is, what doyouthink?”
He said this nonchalantly, as if the phrase “you look lovely in a ball cap and jeans” didn’t just pause her brain from all ability to respond for five seconds. “Seriously? This”—she waved to the outfit—“compared to my ball cap?”
“I do prefer seeing your hair, because it’s beautiful, and you certainly don’t hurt my feelings by showing off your figure.” His lips quirked, an added glimmer in his eyes, which lit a responsive fire on her face. “But hopefully, we’ve become good enough friends that I already know you’re beautiful in all the ways that matter most. This is only an added bonus ifyoulike it, because then you’ll wear it with confidence. And that’s what other professionals will see.”
Ah, professionals. He wasn’tattractedto her.
The realization doused all the previous heat from her cheeks. Not that she should be surprised, of course. It was very practical ofher to keep her thoughts in the professional-friendship realm too. Very practical.
“I’m getting used to it.” She released his hand as her feet hit the ground. “I mean, it’s not bad.”
“No.” He shook his head, the soft tone in his voice drawing her attention back to his face. He stared at her a moment longer and then drew in a breath. “Not at all.”
Okay, so... maybe he felt alittleattraction? That was good. She didn’t need any more from him than a little, because the idea of “a little” was already causing her relatively functioning brain to shut down.
And reforming all her previous misconceptions about princes and romance.
