Author: Sarah Monzon
Category: Christian
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/sarah-monzon/page,15,535596-with_you_here.html
He held the paper back toward her, folded differently this time so that the bottom layered up like an accordion. Her palms dampened when she gripped the edge of the note. He held on for a second, and she looked up, meeting his gaze. The dark rim around his pupils seemed charged, gold flecks sparking, nothing hidden or shuttered. The directness of his gaze washed through her with clarity. Had anyone ever been so open? There were no innuendoes she had to muddle through. No masks she had to remove in order to see the real person beneath. Even when the truth was difficult and laid bare, Seth had always chosen honesty with her.
He seemed to read something in her expression, because his features softened, and he let out a long breath. He gave her a lopsided grin, then stared pointedly at the paper in her hands.
I know you have rules against it, but I’d like to ask you to make an exception. Please, go on a date with me.
She read the words twice. Three times. A date for most would be no big deal. Most twenty-one-year-olds had been on many. Maybe even had a string of boyfriends in their wake. But a date for her was monumental.
Seth reached over and pressed down the first fold.
What if my sister came along as a chaperone?
A smile inched its way across her lips. She’d only met Kayla briefly, but she could imagine how the surly teen would love being a third wheel to her brother’s date. And a chaperone wasn’t necessary. Though her body seemed to respond to Seth without consulting her brain first, she wasn’t worried that anything would get out of control.
His fingers worked to unfold the next flap.
A group date with all the football kids? Pizza in the park?
A chuckle punched past her lips before her hand could hold it back. Heads swiveled toward her. She banged on her chest and coughed. “Sorry. Es tut mir Leid.” She held up a hand and wanted to slink under the table.
Mila caught her eye and raised a brow. She looked past Amber and seemed to be measuring up Seth. A knowing smirk graced her lips, and then she locked her gaze with Amber’s and gave a thumbs up sign.
Amber slumped in her seat but startled straight when a finger tapped her leg again. Seth had lowered the last fold.
Check yes or no
He offered her the pen.
She met his eyes, took both the pen and the paper and placed them on top of the table, and with a flourish, circled yes three times.
Chapter Eighteen
“Do you know, when I took Mila on our first date, it was romantic. Intimate. A dinner by candlelight for two.” Ben shook his head with a dramatic flair, as if he couldn’t understand the world or the people in it. “Young people these days. You must always do things bigger and better—übertrefft.” He slid his gaze sideways. “This time it is the number of people to include on a date.”
Seth juggled the stacked boxes in his hands, the heat radiating from the pizzas inside causing his forearms to cook. “You could bow out and subtract one from that number.”
“And miss this?” He laughed. “Nie. Never.”
“I am so glad I can bring you amusement.”
Ben laughed again but reached for half of the boxes in the stack. “A picnic in the park, this I understand. But why all the people? It is as if this is not a date at all.”
“Oh, it’s a date.” Maybe not like any he’d been on before, but that was fine by him. Amber wasn’t like any woman he’d ever met. Just the fact she’d agreed to a date, had called it a date, was all he needed. A first step in the direction he wanted to head. A definition that meant more simply because of the woman who’d defined it. He was her first and he was determined to be worthy of the privilege she’d given him.
Didn’t matter if practically everyone at the center would be there. He knew they’d all fade into the background. The only person he’d be able to focus on would be Amber. He would have said anything, offered anything, to make her comfortable spending time with him as more than just a friend.
They approached the van, and he balanced the boxes in one hand so he could open the back door. After Ben slid in his half of the food, Seth did the same. He rearranged the soft drinks and bottles of juice so they wouldn’t tip and squish the fruit and vegetable trays, and then he shut the door.
“You sure you remembered to pick everyone up?”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Yes. For the third time, yes.”
“Sorry.”
“If I did not know you, I would think you had never been on a date before.”
“I’ve changed, Ben, and Amber’s different. I’m not trying to get her to open her bedroom door to me. I want her to open her heart.”
“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
Seth turned and found Kayla leaning against the van door. Her arms were crossed over the bib of her dungarees, her pant legs folded up. Her hair had been plaited to the side and cascaded over her left shoulder. She looked a little like she had as a kid, minus the paint splotches on the denim.
“The Seth Marshall I know wouldn’t be saying all these sappy things about girls’ hearts out in the open where anyone, especially reporters, could hear. He cares about exactly two things—football and family.” Her eyes narrowed as she pushed off the van. “But, as you said, you’ve changed, right?” The same flash of hurt he’d seen before streaked across her face, then she turned and stomped out of view. One of the van doors creaked open and then slammed shut.
Ben stared where Kayla had been, as if looking at the spot would help him process what had just happened. Seth knew because he was doing the same thing.
What was wrong with his sister? The little barbs she’d been throwing at him pricked. Was she upset for some reason that he’d given his life to Christ? It was as if the changes he’d made in his life angered her, but that was crazy. He’d stopped living like a selfish blighter. That should make her happy, not cause her to fuss and fume. It was chalk and cheese. Two things that didn’t go together. Didn’t make sense at all.
“Okay then.” Ben slapped Seth’s back. “Should we get your chariot on the road before it turns into a pumpkin?”
Seth stared at his friend. “I seriously wonder about you sometimes.”
“Wha-at?” He drew out the word in two syllables.
“Never mind. Let’s go.”
To continue the unconventionality of the date, Amber had said she’d meet him at the park. The city’s greenspace was only a short walk from the center, and since they were using the van to pick up the food and families, the plan made sense. One day, when she was more comfortable, he’d do things the more traditional way. He’d pick her up with a bouquet of flowers, take her to a fancy restaurant where light from the chandelier could make diamonds of her eyes, and he’d tell her how beautiful she was. How enchanted she made him feel…compared to the clod Kayla made him feel like with her stewing in the back seat.
The negative vibes coming from her charged the inside of the van. He took a deep breath and let it out. Soon they’d need to sit down and hash out whatever it was that had turned his sweet sister into a brooding pain in the backside. But not today. He wouldn’t let her attitude ruin his time with Amber.
They arrived at the park in minutes, and Seth scanned the area, his gaze stopping on the covered pavilion. Traditional date or not, he wanted today to be memorable for Amber. He already knew it would be for him. A couple of phone calls had ensured that pizzas in the park would be upgraded to date-worthy standards. White cloths covered the tables, a burlap runner decorating each down the middle. Mason jars dotted the center of each table, pale-blue hydrangeas popping with color spilling over their mouths. Triangle bunting hung in swags between the pavilion’s support beams. And milling around it all, a multitude of party-sized proportions.
Who knew? Maybe this would be a day they’d tell their children and grandchildren about. The thought, though early, settled into the nooks and crannies of his soul, fitting with a rightness that seized his breath.
Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Marshall. The rem
inder made him pause, his hand on the door handle. It was like him to go off halfcocked, to let his emotions dictate his actions. But the gentle nudge in his spirit caused him to breathe up a prayer. Not my time, but Yours. Not my will, but Yours. He sincerely hoped that, in the case of Amber Carrington, he and the Lord were on the same page.
He opened the door and rounded to the back of the van where Ben reached for the fruit and veggie trays. Seth scooped up the stack of pizza boxes and glanced behind him to see if Kayla had come behind to help carry some of the food over. Nope. He shook his head, but repositioned the pizzas so he could carry them in one hand and grab the drinks in the other.
“Let us help, Coach.” Two of the older boys sidled up, arms outstretched.
He smiled a thanks and loaded them up, then shut the back door of the van and followed them to the pavilion. Mila walked over to him, eyes dancing, as he slid the pizzas onto a table.
“You and Ben are enjoying this way too much.”
“Yes.” She laughed. “We are.”
He settled in for a good-natured ribbing but was surprised when she laid a hand on his arm.
“Ben and I, we are proud of you. To see how far you have come. From a boy who thought the world owed him everything to a man who realized he possessed something worth giving. The changes, they are gut.” She patted his cheek. “You are a gut man. She will see this. Do not worry.”
Emotion welled within him, but he managed to put a lid on the rising tide. Had anyone called him good before? Had he ever deserved it?
Mila’s gaze hooked onto something over his shoulder. “I have taken up enough of your time. There is someone else who would like your attention.” She grinned. “Someone I think you’d rather be talking to than me.” She kissed him on the cheek and walked away.
Seth turned, his heart kicking against his ribs with a goal-making strike. Amber stood a few feet away, the sun lighting her bronze hair with highlights of gold, making strands shine. She smiled at him with a shy twist to her lips. If this were a game, if they’d been keeping score, he’d forfeit right now. She’d already won. So much of his heart was already hers, even if it seemed the starting whistle had just blown.
A soft breeze kicked up off the slow-moving river to their right, twisting the long skirt of her maxi dress against her legs. A strand of hair danced across her face and landed on her lips. He stepped forward and raised his hand. Traced a finger from her hairline, down her temple, and tucked the errant length of hair behind her ear.
“Hi,” he whispered.
She answered with her own breathless, “Hi.”
They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, his gaze sinking further, speaking words he dared not voice aloud. He was both aware and unaware of the crowd of people around them. Voices swirled and spun, laughter lifted and fell, but time in their private space stood still. Everything faded except the woman in front of him. Nothing mattered at the moment but her.
“I can’t believe you went to all the trouble of putting this together for me.”
“You’re worth the trouble.”
Her nose scrunched across the bridge, and she tilted her head slightly.
He groaned, then leaned his forehead down to touch hers. “Guess I’m not as smooth as I thought, eh, luv?”
She chuckled and looked up at him through her lashes. Did anyone possess such a combination of grit and unsoiled beauty as she?
“What I mean is, it wasn’t any trouble. You aren’t any trouble.”
She pulled away and placed a hand on a cocked hip while giving him a saucy grin. “Oh, I’m trouble all right.” She let her hand fall and her smile grew. “But I’m glad you think I’m worth it.”
She held his gaze a second more before looking around. Some people sat at the tables with slices of pizza while others had started a small pick-up game of football in the grassy field on the other side of the pavilion. She turned back to him. “Are you hungry? Or would you like to take a walk and see where this path leads?” She pointed behind him to the concrete pavement that followed the river.
Food could wait. A few more private moments with her couldn’t. “Let’s walk.”
He led her to the path, and they walked several feet without speaking. A bird swooped in front of them and landed on a nearby tree. She sidestepped a ladybug on the path, her hand grazing his pants.
“Thank you for agreeing to go out with me.”
She bestowed another of her shy smiles upon him, and he felt suddenly timid himself.
“I know this may be pushing my luck, but I’d like to ask permission to hold your hand.”
“Really?”
He grinned at her surprise. “I must not be doing a good job of showing my interest if you’re shocked at that request.”
Her cheeks pinked. “It’s not that. It’s just… I guess I’m surprised you asked, is all. Instead of just grabbing my hand, that is.”
“I would have…before. But I don’t want to take more than you’re willing or ready to give. Whether that’s your time or your attention—or in this case, your hand—I’m not going to push against your boundaries.” He glanced down and winked. “But I’m not above asking where the gate to those boundaries is and whether I have permission to step through to get closer to you.” He crossed his eyes and shook his head. “Kayla was right. I’m sounding completely ridiculous.”
Amber laughed, let her palm slide down his inner arm, and wove her fingers through his. “I’ve always appreciated your honesty.” She rested the side of her head against his bicep. “Thank you for respecting me enough to ask. It was really sweet of you.”
They walked on, the sounds of their chaperones drifting in the background.
She lifted her head and looked up at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What is it with you and Kayla? There seems to be…I don’t know…”
“A colossal-sized white elephant sitting between us?”
She squeezed his hand in support.
“I wish I knew. One couldn’t tell from looking at us now, but we used to be really close. In fact, Orhan and Yara remind me of us when we were little.”
“How so?”
“Life wasn’t easy growing up. We lived below the poverty line in a crime-ridden section of London. Mum worked hard, but she barely made enough at her job to pay for the hovel of a flat we lived in and the meals made from food bought with coupon clippings. A lot of times, Kayla and I were left at home by ourselves so Mum could pick up a double shift. It was just us, me and Kayla, against the whole world it seemed.”
“That must have been tough.”
“Life usually is. But because we didn’t have a lot of money, we had to find our own ways to entertain ourselves. I’d kick aluminuim cans between the dumpsters in the back alley, and Kayla would take broken pieces of chalk and create beautiful art.”
He drew in a breath. “One day, I was in the abandoned parking lot on the other side of the street from our flat. I’d found a ball in the dumpster. A few leather patches had been torn off, but the ball still held air. Felt like Christmas to me. A few other teens in the neighborhood realized I was playing with a real ball instead of a can or a ball made out of rubber bands wound together, and they came over. We started a game. Every day after school we played with that ball—Kayla, me, and a dozen other kids. For an hour we were allowed to put off the concerns that only adults should shoulder. We didn’t have to worry if there would be dinner on the table that night or if the electricity would be shut off again because the bill couldn’t get paid.
He paused, thinking back. “Then a black sedan pulled up along the street and parked. No one got out. It just sat there while we played. Showed up the next day and the next for a week. On the seventh day, someone finally got out of the car. Jerry Applewood, the chief executor of the Premiere League.”
He blinked, the vividness of the memory playing out before him. “My life, and my relationship with my sister, hasn’t been the same sinc
e.”
He pulled to a stop, Amber with him, and he looked down at her. He hadn’t told anyone his story in a long time. Not after the initial interviews following his signing. The fans had eaten up the underdog, rags-to-riches tale, and now it seemed everyone thought they knew him. But his life wasn’t a story, no matter how inspirational some claimed it to be. And now he was sharing it—him—not with the world, but with one very special woman. Would she see beyond the hype of a headline? Beyond the stories that sold newspapers and tabloids and filled football stadiums?
Her eyes softened and her lips parted.
“Mr. Marshall!”
His head jerked up. Whipped around to find a familiar voice calling for him. The flash of a paparazzo’s camera caused stars to blink in his vision and an anchor to sink in his gut.
Chapter Nineteen
Holy Roman Empire, 1527
“Three persons depart the castle and yet seven return.” Kampff, Duke of Schlestein, blocked Christyne’s path. His lip curled in disdain as he looked down upon her. The landsknecht captain, who seemed sewn to his side, was standing on his right, gaze sweeping across the small party of people behind her. His calculating gaze weighted his inspection.
Would he notice anything amiss? The absence of an upper class bearing? A stitch of clothing undone? One small whiff of suspicion and this heretic-hunting hound would sink his teeth into all their throats.
Christyne lifted her chin. She refused to be cowed by either of these insufferable tyrants. “It would behoove you, Herzog, to remove your person from before us. You impede the Reichsfürst’s guests.” She stressed both his and her father’s stations. While he presided over the duchy of Schlestein, her father held more power and prestige as a prince of the Holy Roman Empire.