“Actually, right here is where I need to be.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, unease snaking its way up his spine.
He’d been so thrown by seeing her that he hadn’t thought to wonder why she was there in the first place. No. No, it can’t be. It just can’t.
Posy grew very still, as if contemplating the same uncomfortable possibility that was running through his head. “You followed your big unruly dog in here, right? That’s the only reason you’re here.”
She stated it as fact, as if any other possibility was a thought too horrifying to consider.
He gave his head a slow shake.
She swallowed. Liam’s eyes traced the movement up and down the slender column of her throat. She was elegance personified. She always had been. Those willowy limbs. Her every movement so fluid that she gave the impression she was made of liquid instead of flesh and bone. She didn’t just look like a swan. She was a swan.
“My dog might be big, but he’s not unruly,” he said.
Posy rolled her eyes. “He knocked over a trash can and ate half its contents.”
“He’s on a diet. It’s a recent thing.” Why were they making what amounted to small talk and avoiding the issue at hand?
Because I know what’s going on here, and I don’t like it. Not one bit.
“Why are you here, Posy?” he asked.
He knew the answer before she even opened her mouth.
“I work here,” she said warily.
A pain sprang into existence somewhere in Liam’s head. “You work here?”
He’d been asking the senior pastor to hire an assistant for the after-school program for months. There was a new city grant up for grabs, and with a little help, the youth program at the church might prove a worthy recipient. It would mean winter coats for those kids he’d noticed who were still wearing last year’s threadbare hand-me-downs. It would mean computers and internet for the teens who couldn’t afford such luxuries at home. How it meant that he would be working alongside Posy was a mystery.
What was happening?
He lifted his gaze briefly to the ceiling. Really, Lord?
“Yes. I’m looking for my new boss. The youth pastor. You don’t know where he is, do you?” She looked around as if waiting for someone else, anyone else, to materialize out of thin air.
Oh, how Liam wished someone would. “I’m afraid you’re looking at him.”
She shook her head, clearly unwilling or unable to believe him.
I’m not any happier about this than you are, darling.
“Liam, if this is your idea of a joke, it’s really not funny,” she said. Her voice shook a little. Nerves? Anger?
He wasn’t sure. It came as somewhat of a shock that he no longer knew what was going on in her head simply by reading her pretty face. It shouldn’t have. But it did.
He swallowed. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”
There had to be some mistake.
“You’re the youth pastor?” she asked, praying she’d somehow misunderstood. Of all the people in Alaska, Liam couldn’t be her new boss. He just couldn’t.
Her mother was the one who’d told her about the job. Her mother. And she hadn’t thought to mention that Liam was the youth pastor?
“Yep. I’m the youth pastor.” He folded his arms and nodded. “Did you think I still worked at the pond?”
The pond. Aurora’s skating rink. It was like something out of a Snoopy cartoon—a small, oblong-shaped patch of ice surrounded by thick snowbanks, evergreens and a collection of spindly trees, their bare branches piled with snow. Back when she was in high school, you could rent skates for a dollar a day. Paper cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows had cost even less. Music was played on an old jam box turned up as high as it could go. All during eleventh and twelfth grade Liam had worked there, zipping around the rink on his black skates, making sure everyone followed the rules and no one got hurt. A referee of sorts.
“Did I think you still worked at the pond? Don’t be silly. No, of course not.” Never in a million years would she admit that when she thought of him, he still zipped through her imagination on those skates. Never in a million years would she admit that she still thought about him period. Because that was just pathetic.
She wasn’t a starry-eyed teenager anymore. She was a twenty-four-year-old woman with a real career who lived in one of the most exciting cities in the country. In the world, even. Opportunity had been spread at her feet like a blanket of untouched wildflowers. Since she’d left Aurora, life had been hers for the taking. The most significant romance of her life shouldn’t still be the boy who’d asked her to the high school prom.
Then why was it?
Being a ballet dancer didn’t leave much time for dating. It didn’t leave much time for a life. The few men she’d actually gone out with hadn’t stuck around for long. Probably because she canceled or postponed more dates than she actually went on. Somehow heading out for a night on the town after an entire day of dance classes and rehearsals sounded more exhausting than fun. And when performance season was under way, forget it. The only things she looked forward to at the end of those nights were ice baths.
But she was happy. She was living the life she’d always wanted.
Her foot throbbed in the plaster cast. She stared at it as if it belonged to another person. Her foot didn’t belong in there. It belonged in a pointe shoe of shiny pink satin. Her foot didn’t belong there, and she didn’t belong here. In the church of her childhood. The church where Liam was currently the youth pastor.
It’s only temporary. Just until the foot heals.
But if Liam was the youth pastor, that meant he was her temporary boss.
She needed a minute—or a century—for that to sink in. Posy had known things in Aurora would be different now. She wasn’t delusional. Time hadn’t stood still while she’d been away. And Liam’s father had been a clergyman—a circuit preacher who traveled to the most remote parts of Alaska to tend to his flock. As far as Posy knew, he was still a traveling preacher. So it shouldn’t have come as a total surprise that Liam had followed a similar path.
Although he’d never been that crazy about his dad’s calling when they’d been teenagers. In fact, he’d had a pretty large chip on his shoulder about it.
No matter where Liam worked, she’d assumed she’d be in town for at least a day or two before she’d come face-to-face with him. While she was debating whether or not to come home, she’d even managed to convince herself that she might not run into him at all. Aurora was a small town, but she’d come back to teach ballet. And if there was one thing Liam hated, it was ballet.
“Is there another youth pastor, maybe?” She prayed there was. But even as she was silently pleading with God for a second youth pastor to materialize out of thin air, Liam’s head was shaking.
“No. Just me, the one and only.”
The one and only. Posy took a slow, measured breath. Seriously, God? Is this Your idea of a joke?
What had she possibly done to deserve this? First she’d broken her foot on opening night. Not just any opening night, but the most important opening night of her dance career. She’d been cast as the Winter Fairy in Cinderella, one of the most coveted roles in the entire production. The principal ballerina had been dancing the role of Cinderella, naturally. The leading