Love Starts with Elle(65)
“There’s no chase, Heath. I’m not running. He’s being nice and humble. Something’s happened and he wants to talk about it.”
“That’s humble? He couldn’t buy humble.” He’d gone too far. He could tell by Elle’s expression. “Elle, I’m sorry. This is none of my business. Go, have fun. I hope it turns out well for you.”
“I’m sorry about dinner, Heath. We’ll go later.” She paused in the doorway. “You know I have to do this, right? And it doesn’t make me a dumb dame.”
“Elle, you are a million things, and dumb dame is not one of them.”
“Don’t worry, I know all about the guys-with-big-egos playbook.”
“I won’t. You’re a grown woman and can take care of yourself.”
She jutted out her chin. “Exactly. See you in the funny papers.”
Yeah, right next to Charlie Brown.
Jeremiah stopped at the Shrimp Shack for a couple of shrimp burgers, then continued down Hwy 21 toward Huntington State Park.
Their conversation started out stiff and formal, but gradually the tension evaporated as Jeremiah asked what she was up to these days.You know, everything that’s happened since I broke your heart.
Really, she’d worked the broken-heart angle long enough. Hated being trapped there. With her hands gripped in her lap, Elle gave him a breezy update.
“So, my days are about the two Ps—painting and prayer.”
“Painting and prayer. Interesting.”
“I meet with Miss Anna for prayer and that’s how I started painting.”
He glanced over at her as he steered down Hwy 21, a seriousness shrouding his almond-shaped eyes. “You’re as beautiful as ever.”
“So are you.” She gazed out her window at the palmettos and pines, squinting at the glassy marsh.
Okay, she’d lied to Heath. The only thing she knew about the plays in the guys-with-big-egos book was that sometimes they worked.
Jeremiah turned into Huntington State Park, paid the fee, and chose a picnic area on the ocean side. So far, he spoke little of himself.
A brisk salty breeze combed through Elle’s hair as she sat under the canopy of pines and faced the surf.
“Shrimp burger and fries.” Jeremiah handed Elle her food, sitting next to her. She waited for him to say grace, but he bit into his shrimp sandwich without so much as a pause or glint of reflection.
“I’ve missed the Shrimp Shack,” he mumbled, mouth full, wiping mayonnaise from the corner of his lips.
Elle took a small bite, chewing quickly and swallowing, smashing down the napkins when the wind whistled through the pines and whisked them across the table.
“Jeremiah, what is going on? You didn’t come all the way here to have a shrimp burger with me in the park.”
“No, I didn’t.” Jeremiah flicked crumbs from his finger. “I’m still in love with you, Elle. I’ve missed you and regretted how things ended between us.”
“Not an e-mail or a call in three months. How much was I really on your mind?”
He scooted closer to her, and the heat from his skin caused her to tingle. “Out of sight, but not out of my mind or heart. I was a fool to let you go, and I want you back.”
Elle shoved her food aside, hearing him but not comprehending. “Just like that? Here’s a shrimp burger and my heart? What changed, Jeremiah?”
“Me. I’ve changed.” His turned her face to his by the tip of her chin. “Do you still love me?”
“No.” Even she didn’t believe her answer. “I don’t know.” Sitting here, expressing his heart, wanting her, humble and handsome . . . she didn’t know what she wanted. She’d spent the last four months letting go of everything, starting over, a clean, blank canvas before God.
“Candace thinks I sabotaged my Dallas trip because I didn’t want to marry you.”
“That theory only matters if it’s what you think.”
“Jeremiah,” Elle started, “what changed you?”
He picked at the table’s peeling paint. “I quit.”
“W-what?” she whispered, grabbing his forearm. “You didn’t.”
“Taking on that church was the biggest mistake of my life. It cost me friends, time, desire—you. I let myself be blinded by delusions of television and big ministry. Move over, T. D. Jakes, Jeremiah Franklin has entered the building.”
“What happened?” Her fingers squeezed his skin.
“Clash of power. Little did I know this small band of leaders only wanted a puppet.” He peeked at her from under his brow. “And here I came, prideful, arrogant, thinking I was being promoted by God. After all, I deserved it. Look at all I can do for God’s kingdom. I walked right into their trap, close-eyed and stupid.”
The scenario sounded ludicrous. “Why would they want a puppet? Jeremiah, I wasn’t around long, but I saw the church, visited with the people. They loved Jesus, wanted to impact the community for good.”
“The congregation, yes. But the leaders are manipulators, a bunch of Jezebels. If the pastor opposes them, or executes his own plan without their expressed written consent, they go into action like a Microsoft virus, poisoning the other leaders and key members of the congregation.”