Something Old - Dianne L. Christner [43]
He held a finger to his lips, pretending nobody else knew that his favorite pastime of restoring cars and painting them midnight blue, but everybody knew.
She took stock of the seating arrangement, and Jake’s eyes dared her to sit beside him, but she opted for the painter’s pew. Still, Jake’s presence beckoned her. He certainly didn’t look repentant, coming to church with shaggy hair and wearing a T-shirt. She struggled harder to disregard him, giving her full attention to observing the other committee members.
Besides the blues man, the group included representatives from the finance committee, the grounds committee, and the church council, as well as a layperson who was a painter by trade, Katy as a stand-in for the hostess committee, and obviously Jake as construction advisor. That made seven. To Katy, there were only two people in the room, and that made her want to flee, but she couldn’t do that. She’d have to endure the torture of putting in her time at the meeting.
It started with the groundskeeper reporting on the scheduled cleanup and answering questions on easements.
“What if the congregation doesn’t want to spend the money for the additional Sunday school rooms?” the painter asked.
“The finance committee will head up the bids, and we’ll have all that information before we take it to the congregation for a vote,” Mr. Weaver explained.
“What if they think we’re trying to push it through by getting on this so quickly?”
Katy hadn’t known the painter was such a pessimist.
“There are always a few rumbles, no matter what direction leadership takes. We’ll deal with the problems as they arise. We’re not trying to trick anybody, just get all our facts together at this point.”
As the meeting progressed, Katy’s neck stiffened from being held in one position so long to avoid Jake’s gaze. Hearing the low rumble of his Dutch accent—his mother’s family came from an Amish background—was trying enough, for it brought back yearnings she’d hoped to have stifled by now. Putting a hand to her neck, she twisted to ease the tension. Of course her traitorous eyes sought the most desirable man in the room.
And he knew the moment she looked at him. His brown eyes caressed her, and she found it hard to turn away. Then those sensuous lips of his gave her a private smile, and she remembered how she used to always make him smile. He had once delighted in her, in their relationship. He had that look now, that darkened gaze that clung to her every breath. He probably only wanted her now because she was unobtainable. The thought was enough that she was able to break their visual contact.
She made a show of rubbing her neck and focused once more on the agenda. She gleaned that she needed to speak to the present hostess committee and collect their input on an updated kitchen and get the information to Jake as soon as possible. He needed the details before their next meeting. He was in charge of getting a blueprint drawn, collecting bids for the congregation’s approval, and submitting the plans to Plain City’s Planning and Zoning Commission.
Now she knew why her dad sometimes returned from elders’ meetings looking frayed and worried. Bill Weaver prayed and dismissed them, and finally she could flee. She lurched to her feet and hastened down the aisle, confident that as the only woman present, no one would detain her. She planned to escape before Jake got the opportunity to engage that lethal gaze of his again, the one that made her heart revolt against her will. But she’d not even reached the double doors before a touch sent a shock through her shoulder.
With a frustrated sigh, she stopped. Turned.
“I need to get your ideas before I draw up the kitchen.”
So he didn’t have anything personal to say to her. Good. That was the way she wanted it, too. “I need to talk to Lil first. I’m sure the hostess committee has ideas.”
He raised a brow. Perhaps he hadn’t realized Lil was asked first and would be giving her input. “As far as the blueprints go, the plans for