Alec glanced heavenward. Was God trying to tell him something? Or was his friend trying to force him into something Alec wasn’t ready for yet? “I’d have to think about that, Preacher.”
Preacher caught on to his hesitation. “Your therapy seems to be working. The limp is less noticeable these days. The scar is improving every day, too.”
“Yeah, the Florida sun makes the scar more pronounced but also helps it to heal, as long as I wear sunscreen,” Alec replied, his hand automatically moving down the jagged edges of his wound. “I only remember it when I smile.”
Rory punched him on the arm. “If you smile more often, you’ll forget it’s even there.”
Alec doubted he’d ever forget this scar. Shrapnel right in the side of his face. He could still remember the intense, searing pain before he’d blacked out. His broken leg was healing but he’d always have this facial scar.
“Just smile,” Preacher said. “I find a smile can put anyone at ease.”
“I’ll remember that, sunshine,” Alec quipped. “Thanks, though, for being my spiritual advisor.” They walked up to the buffet table. “I’m sorry I haven’t been attending services much. I’ve been on the road a lot and I’m playing catch-up with all the board members and the foundation. I think it’s called putting out fires.”
Preacher waved to some people up ahead. “I know where your heart is, Alec. God does, too. Fellowship can help, but only if you’re willing to let it help.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Alec asked, wishing Preacher wouldn’t do so much preaching right now.
Oblivious to Alec’s discomfort, Rory glanced toward Marla. “Listen, I saw you talking to Marla earlier after I sent you in with her trays, so I guess you two hit it off okay.”
Alec didn’t lie. “Yeah, we actually met briefly this weekend at the Alvanetti estate. She baked the wedding cake.”
“Oh, yes, I forgot she baked the cake for the big wedding out there.” Rory shrugged. “They used another minister for the wedding, but I’m cool with that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So...you met Marla—something you neglected to tell us at the pizza place.”
“I purposely didn’t mention her the other night. Didn’t want to be grilled about it.”
“Like I’m doing right now,” Preacher said with a nod. “Okay, I’ll back off. Anyway, since you two know each other already, would you mind sitting with her at dinner? She’s kind of new to the church and...she’s had it rough lately.”
“How’s that?” Alec asked, glancing over at Marla. She looked cute with her wheat-and-strawberry-colored hair up in a haphazard ponytail, and she seemed content in her own skin. But she did appear a bit standoffish and shy when her green-eyed gaze stared at the floor, instead of at him. Was she fighting her own battle?
“Not for me to tell,” Preacher replied. “But she could use a friend.”
“Are you setting me up?” Alec asked, resentment warring with gratitude in his mind. He didn’t have time to explore a new relationship. Wasn’t even sure he wanted to be in any sort of dating situation. So why was his best friend keeping after him? “You invited me here for more than just networking, didn’t you?”
Preacher made a face and then lifted his hands, palms up. “Me? Never.”
Alec wondered about that, but he couldn’t turn down the request to sit with Marla at dinner. That would be rude—and besides, he did like Marla, whether she liked him back or not. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but...it was just a few minutes eating a meal in a crowded room. Maybe if he sat with his scar away from her, she’d be more relaxed around him.
Taking a small leap of faith and sending a prayer after it, Alec excused himself from the food line and strolled over to where Marla stood tidying her table. He’d keep things light and friendly in spite of the unfamiliar sensations tickling at his consciousness. No use in scaring her away, since nothing could come of this anyway.
“Hi,” he said, his gaze moving over her cute blue button-up sweater and floral skirt. “How’d it go over here?”
“Good,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I think I drummed up some new clients. A wedding cake, a birthday party and an order of cupcakes and cookies for an entire kindergarten class. Plus, dessert for the Rotary Club meeting next week.”
He liked seeing her smile. “Your treats will draw in a lot of people. I had a great night, too. I’ll tell you all about it if you’ll sit with me at dinner.”
* * *
Marla looked around and then lifted her gaze to Alec. Did she want to eat dinner with him? Or did she want to bolt out the door? She glanced at the door and the buffet line before lifting her chin toward him.
Looking defeated, he gave her an out. “If you’d rather not, I understand.”
She noticed the disappointment in his eyes, so she made her decision. She wouldn’t be rude or give him the wrong idea, no matter what negative words came out of her mouth. No matter how her breath seemed to catch in her throat every time she was around him. “I’d be happy to eat dinner with you.”
“Good,” he said with what sounded like relief. “I don’t know a lot of people here, since I... I’ve kind of fallen back on coming to church.”
“Why?” she asked while they walked toward the serving line.
The scents of chicken spaghetti and garlic bread made her mouth water while the nearness of Alec Caldwell made her heart go a little crazy. Which was crazy. She didn’t react this way to men. She tried not to react to men.
“I shouldn’t have asked that,” she said, a hand going over her mouth. “I need to think before I speak.”
He guided her into the line, his hand on her elbow. “I don’t have any good excuses.” He leaned close. “Except the obvious one. Sometimes, I scare little girls.”
She glanced at his scar, her mind on Gabby. Would he scare her daughter? To keep things light, she asked, “Do you also scare big girls?”
His tiger eyes held hers. “Are you scared of me?”
Marla wanted to look away but not for the reason he’d stated. And besides, she gathered that question was a test. So she gave him a direct, sure glance. “No. I mean, that scar doesn’t bother me. But...where you’ve been does.”
“What do you mean?”
“War. Battle. Hidden scars. All the traits of a gung-ho man. Those things scare me.”
He looked confused and shocked. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”
“I like being direct and honest,” she replied, her hand on the food spatula. Her appetite was suddenly gone. Since she didn’t expect him to hang around too long anyway, she gave it her all. “I...was married to a real thrill seeker.”
“You were married?”
Now it was her turn to be shocked and confused. “Yes. It happens.”
He looked embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to pry, but I’m not that kind of man. I mean, not the kind who pries and certainly not a thrill seeker. I was a good marine and I wanted to serve my country. Now I want to settle down and have a nice quiet life. No war, no battles, no underlying scars or regrets.” He stopped in the line. “Wait, since we’re being honest, I do have some regrets. But we don’t have to go into that tonight.”
Marla took the salad a volunteer handed her and found a table. She’d brought enough cupcakes to