A (sorta) Southern Serenade (A Romance(ish) Novella Book 2) Page 5

  Josh stared open-mouthed at her for a moment. “You mean to tell me you got all that from her out of a moment's conversation before church?”

  “Amazing what you can find out when you ask just the right questions, dear. I had a feeling about her the moment I saw her, that God was up to something with that sweet woman and that I needed to introduce myself. So, what other concerns do you have about her leading worship?”

  He blinked and thought hard, but any of the reasons he could conjure up weren’t worth speaking aloud because they were far-fetched at best.

  Despite his best effort, something intrigued him about this strange lady who had gotten under his skin the moment he met her but wrapped herself around his momma’s finger.

  He already knew he’d overreacted at their first meeting and had been a jerk at their second.

  The question remained.

  Could he redeem himself during number three?

  Ten

  Kendra stood outside the church and clutched her purse.

  She could do this.

  She’d been singing in church for almost a year now and onstage for longer than that.

  Then why was her stomach a bundle of double-tied knots kinked together?

  It had nothing to do with seeing Josh again.

  She didn’t even like Josh.

  Though, she had to hand it to the guy. He’d sent out a crew yesterday who had done a magnificent job. Her front lawn had been transformed in a matter of a day. Shrubs and fall flowers planted, the lawn mowed, weeds gone, mulch spread. It would have taken her months to do all that—and even then, she would have killed it all within a week.

  Thankfully they’d be coming back to maintain it weekly.

  The kicker had been when Mr. Lutz—or Ronny as he’d insisted she call him—gave her the invoice.

  She’d opened it to see a balance of zero and a credit per Josh Damen listed.

  While the money made little difference to her, the gesture thawed her heart a little. He was still a big jerk—but maybe not as much as she’d first pegged him as.

  “We don’t practice outside, ya know.” The unexpected voice made her jump.

  She turned to see the man of her thoughts standing a few feet from her, hands in his pockets, his eyebrows raised in question. He looked downright—sexy. There was no other word for it even though she berated herself for even thinking it.

  He had ditched the work clothes from Friday and even the casual dressy jeans from Sunday and donned a black pinstriped suit with a textured gray tie. His dark hair was still the shaggy style but in a way that was classy and—

  Oh goodness. He needed to look homelier. It would make her determination to stay clear of him so much easier.

  She stood up straighter and forced her expression to not give away her appreciation of his hotness. “I didn’t realize the dress code for rehearsal was so upscale.”

  “You saying I clean up good?”

  Oh yes. Very good. But no need letting him know that. “I’m saying you’re overdressed, but feel free to misinterpret my comment however it best strokes your ego.”

  “Nice save there. If it makes you feel better, I just came from a meeting and didn’t have time to change. You’ll fit in better than me tonight, darlin’.” He strode off toward the double front doors, leaving only a faint trace of his cologne—a woodsy scent that brought to mind a rain forest and corporate boardroom all in one alluring aroma.

  Or would have been alluring if not for— “Did you just call me darling?”

  He opened the door for her and stood back, motioning her through. “Hurry up, slowpoke. We’re already late as it is.”

  Kendra narrowed her eyes as she stepped through the door, then followed him across the lobby. “You realize calling me names isn’t going to help our predicament, right?”

  He turned as they reached the closed sanctuary door. “First, where I come from, darlin’ is a compliment, an endearment if you will. And slowpoke is just a fact. No name calling about it. Now, what exactly is our predicament?”

  Man, he was ornery. “Josh, you can pretend all you want. But we started off despising each other, and now we’re forced to put on smiling faces and sing for Jesus together. I, for one, am determined to forget about all that, but let’s not pretend we’re best buds, okay? That’ll do no one any favors.”

  He leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. “So we’re putting the past behind us then?”

  “Something like that. You game?”

  Josh stuck out his hand. When she looked at it, no clue what he expected, he reached down and snatched her hand up in a shake. “Hi. I’m Josh Damen. And you are?”

  She rolled her eyes but squeezed back out of habit. “Kendra Meyers.”

  His strong grip matched hers. “Well, Ms. Meyers. It’s nice to meet you. Rumor has it that you have the voice of an angel—what do you think about coming in here and singing a few songs with us?”

  Despite her best intentions to remain stoic, her mouth tipped into a smile. “You’re laying it on a little thick there, Rhett.”

  “What’d you just call me?”

  “Rhett. You know. Gone with the Wind? Classic movie?”

  “I’m more a John Wayne kinda guy when it comes to classics.”

  Despite trying to stop it, she let out a snort. “You? John Wayne? No way.”

  “What? I’ll have you know I grew up on a farm and dreamed of being a real-life cowboy ever since I could ride a horse.”

  “What took you into the exciting world of landscape design?”

  “Don’t you mean world of mowing lawns?”

  She reached out and punched his arm. “Hey. We started over, remember? That never happened.”

  He threw his hands up in mock surrender. “You’re right, you’re right. But seriously, I’ve always loved being outside. When I got older, being a cowboy didn’t seem as glamorous as John Wayne made it look like on TV. So I went through the agricultural program at UT with a concentration in landscape design. My dad died when I was a kid, so we didn’t have much money. I worked my way through college mowing lawns. I added the landscape design after I finished college. Eventually I couldn’t keep up with business so hired Ronny to help me out. The rest just—happened, honestly. We’ve grown much bigger than I ever anticipated. I give God all the credit for that part.”

  “That’s impressive.” And she meant it. Was more than a little jealous, actually. She’d had a silver spoon in her mouth her whole life, and here was a guy who’d come from humble beginnings but had his life more figured out than she ever had. What was wrong with that picture?

  For a brief moment, his gaze held hers, and something flashed in his eyes that she couldn’t read, but a moment later, it disappeared. “We better go in. The crew is probably getting antsy.”

  She took a deep breath and pressed a hand to her stomach, willing the butterflies to calm themselves. Why was she acting like this? She’d been on stage hundreds of times. And this was just practice.

  Somehow, it was different. Maybe because it was church, or maybe because she’d be singing with the man who she was growing more used to than she’d planned to.

  Or maybe—Every other time she’d been on stage, it had been a performance. She’d been playing a part and was someone other than herself.

  Singing in front of church, though—that was intimate. She was leading others in praising Jesus, someone who, only a year ago, she had seriously doubted the existence of. In the past, she’d always felt confident about who she was, but this—

  She was still figuring out exactly what being a child of God meant. Would they think her a fraud? Would her doubts and inexperience in all things religious be glaringly obvious?

  “You okay?” Josh’s voice filtered through her worried thoughts.

  “I—” She took a deep breath. “I’m not normally nervous. But for some reason, my feet are really comfortable right where they are.”

  His lips curved into a light smile as he gr
abbed her hand and tugged her toward the door. “You can do it. Channel your inner Little Engine Who Could. You think you can.”

  The warmth spreading from her hand up her arm then spiraling down her body was enough to uproot her feet.

  She shouldn’t be reacting this way to a simple touch of a hand.

  But as he opened the door and the sound of instruments warming up blared in her ears, she resisted the urge to pull away, and instead held on for dear life.

  Eleven

  He had not planned to enter the sanctuary holding Kendra Meyer’s hand.

  Yet, that was exactly what he was doing.

  Every time he’d seen her, even that bad first day, she’d been so confident and put-together. Like a rock that was indestructible.

  Out in the lobby, though, she’d chewed on her bottom lip as her skin had gone pale, the only color in her face the light layer of lipstick she wore.

  Grabbing her hand to calm her had been instinctive, but once he’d done it—he’d wanted to pull her close and hug her.

  Thankfully he’d resisted the urge. They were still on a rocky friend path, so whereas everyone knew he was a hugger, she wouldn’t know that yet.

  The last thing he needed was for her to see it as a romantic gesture.

  Which it wouldn’t have been.

  At all.

  Despite the fact that her hand felt incredibly right tucked into his palm.

  Clearing his throat and rejecting his wayward thoughts, he made himself let go and put an arm around her shoulders instead. “Hey everyone. I sent out an email last night, but in case you didn’t read it, this is Kendra. She’s new to Nashville South Community and has volunteered to help us fill our female vocalist spot.”

  Kendra raised a hand in a little wave and smiled, the confident woman he’d met on Friday firmly in place. Except Josh now saw clearly that it was a well-manicured facade. “Hey everyone. I appreciate you giving me a chance to sing with you. I hope I don’t hurt your ears too badly.”

  A sense of humor. He smiled his approval. She might just fit in better than he thought. “I heard her sing on Sunday and let’s just say, you might be kicking me off the team after we’re done.”

  The guitarist, a skinny guy, maybe twenty, with shoulder-length jet black hair, shook his head and laughed. “Like you’d ever leave. We’ve been trying to get rid of you for years, man.”

  Josh hopped up on stage and took the acoustic he left at church from the guitar stand. “That’s right. I’m like a bad habit you just can’t get rid of.”

  The woman sitting at the keyboard laughed. “If that’s your way of saying you’re smokin’, Josh, you can dream on.”

  A larger guy, older than the rest given the wrinkles around his eyes and the silver hair that graced about half of his head—the other half having long since receded—played a little ditty on the drums, ending in a cymbal crash. “Nice one, Liz.”

  Josh plugged in his guitar to the amp and motioned Kendra up on stage beside him. “Now that we’ve shown our new member just how dysfunctional we are, let me introduce you. On bass guitar we have Devon-the-man.”

  He pointed to the guy who wore his Cubs baseball cap on sideways, who responded with playing a few low notes. “Nice to meet you.”

  “And over here we have Jake on the drums, Liz on keyboard, and Zack on the electric.”

  The three smiled and waved, and she nodded to them. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

  Josh handed her a pack of music he’d prepared for her. “Here are the songs we’ll be singing on Sunday. I emailed them to you yesterday. Did you get it?”

  She nodded. “I did. I actually have them all on my iPad if that’s okay.” She dug the tablet out of her purse and wiggled it. “Figured less chance of papers flying everywhere that way.”

  “Smart girl. Were you familiar with all the songs?”

  “Most of them. I looked up the ones I didn’t know well and listened to them throughout the day, so I’m hoping that helps.”

  His esteem of her elevated even more as they started in on the first song.

  She sang flawlessly, adapting her voice to his and even looking over and smiling at him a few times.

  An hour later, they wrapped up, and everyone said goodnight.

  Kendra walked beside him as they walked out. “So fearless leader. How’d I do?”

  He flipped off the light as they exited the sanctuary. “Not bad for your first time.” An understatement of epic proportions.

  She crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. “Seriously. If you have any feedback on how I can do better, I’d love to hear it. I always want to make sure I’m—”

  He tugged on her elbow to stop her and make her face him. “Hold it right there. I’m going to be very blunt and honest here, Kendra.”

  “Blunt and honest are what I want. I’m not a fan of beating around bushes.” Her eyes drilled into his, and he saw a stark vulnerability in her that he’d bet money she kept hidden ninety-nine percent of the time.

  He had to restrain himself from putting his hands on her cheeks. His thumbs ached to rub away the worry lines creased there. “We had a rough first meeting, and I think we both said things we didn’t mean. But please know that I mean this from the bottom of my soul. You were amazing in there. You sang with us as if you’d been a part of our team for years. Every single one of us were blown away. I’m shocked you don’t have a recording deal and aren’t touring the country, singing in front of crowds by the hundreds of thousands. Honestly, Kendra. You were magnificent.”

  Her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink, and her gaze darted from his eyes to somewhere in his neck region. “Stop it. I’m not that—”

  He couldn’t resist any longer. He reached out a finger to tap below her chin and urge her dark, stormy brown eyes back to his. “But you are. If you believe nothing else I say ever again, believe that.”

  She stared at him for a moment, then her throat dipped in a swallow. “Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, on to another important topic. Did the work on your lawn yesterday meet your satisfaction?”

  Her mouth blossomed into a smile. “Good grief. Getting all professional on me. I think we’re beyond the client and vendor relationship, Mr. Damen.”

  “Oh, we are, are we? Just what is our relationship then?”

  Pink dotted her cheeks again. “Now, I didn’t mean like that. And the lawn was great. Thank you. But you do realize that—you and me—that would never work, right?”

  Forty-eight hours ago, he would have whole-heartedly agreed.

  But for some reason, he couldn’t get his mind off her, and the more he was with her, the fewer reasons he could think of to fight what was obviously a growing attraction for the beautiful brunette.

  If she thought they would never work, it was best to squash his feelings now. “Of course I know that. We’d be terrible as a couple.”

  She started to walk toward her fancy Lexus parked next to his Ford pickup. “Exactly. We’d fight all the time.”

  “Yup. And you probably can’t even cook. You know all Southern boys require a woman who can cook good.”

  Her laugh echoed across the parking lot. “A woman who can cook good? Where you born back in the 1950s or something? I bet you’d require your wife to have a four-course meal ready for you when you got home from a hard day of mowing lawns.”

  This time, he smiled at the jab. He deserved it. “But of course. Mowing lawns works up an appetite, darlin’.”

  “I’ll have you know I’m an amazing cook. It might not be all fried okra and collard greens, but it’d make you beg for seconds, I promise.”

  He pulled at his collar, enjoying the idea of riling her up. “I hate to tell you this, but cooking something that came from a box isn’t really cooking in the South.”

  Just as he thought, her eyes sparked and her hands propped to her trim, curvy hips. “The only thing I use to cook with that comes from a box is butter, and that’s only because it takes
too long to churn myself.”

  Crossing his arms, he shook his head. “I don’t believe it for a second.”

  Her chin popped, and her eyes flared. “I’ll prove it to you. Friday evening. My house. Seven o’clock. Come hungry.”

  She didn’t even give him time to respond. She just twirled around and marched to her hoity-toity SUV and took off.

  Josh ambled toward his truck, trying to grasp exactly what had just happened.

  He’d gone from working hard not to despise the woman to having what he could only call a school boy crush on her.

  And while she’d argue with him about the exact definition of what Friday night was, she’d just set up their first date.

  Twelve

  Kendra clutched her purse tight as she rang the doorbell for the third time.

  Where were Nate and Sadie and why were they not answering their door when she needed them?

  In their defense, she’d only given maybe five seconds between each ring, but still. This was important.

  She raised her hand for the fourth time, but the door opened before she could press the button.

  “Kendra? What’s wrong?” Sadie opened the door wide to let her in. She was all comfy in sweatpants, an oversized t-shirt and her blond hair pulled up in a ponytail.

  “I made a huge mistake, and I need your advice.” She still couldn’t believe she’d let him egg her on like that. As she’d driven away from the church, the reality of what she’d just demanded slapped her in the face. A date. At her house. Cooking him dinner. What in the world had possessed her?

  Josh had, that’s what.

  Sadie pulled her over to the gray leather couch, and they both plopped down. Kendra grabbed an off-white, faux fur throw pillow and clutched it to her. “Remember that guy from Friday? From the landscape company?”

  “The jerk who shoved a check back in your face and quit? Yeah. What about him?”