2
Jo stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. She dragged a comb through her damp hair and glanced down at the morning paper.
Looks like another hot one.
The door to the spare room was closed when she got home from work the night before, so she knew Pip had collected John. She wondered what he looked like. She hadn’t paid much attention to his voice when he called, other than the cute English accent. He was probably fat, balding, and in his fifties.
Footsteps tapped down the stairs and across the hall and stopped at the door. The musky male scent of aftershave wafted into the kitchen, and she turned to greet the stranger.
Wow…
Short blond hair fell in waves around his face, while fathomless blue eyes sparkled behind his glasses. Jo’s breath caught as her gaze slid over a firm chest to his shirt tucked into jeans which skimmed trim hips and long legs. Dragging her eyes back over his broad shoulders to his face, she felt her cheeks burn as his gaze settled on her face. What had she just done? More to the point, he’d caught her looking.
Had he given her the once over, too? Had he found her to his liking as she had him? Or did she come up lacking? Which would explain why she was still single at her age.
She stuck out a hand, praying her voice wouldn’t wobble. “Hi, I’m Jo.”
He took her hand and shook it. “I’m John. It’s nice to finally put a face to your voice. I’m sorry if I scared you yesterday, ringing out of the blue like that. I felt awkward about doing it as it was. I’m a total stranger, and a bloke, and I ring to ask to stay because a friend of a friend of my sister said it’d be OK even though she’s never met me. I couldn’t have invented something that bad.”
Jo laughed as he replayed all her earlier misgivings, something about him set her at ease. “Very true, but no worries. It’s not every day I get a total stranger asking if he can move in.”
His grip was warm and firm, and she didn’t want to let go of his hand. Finally, she did and inwardly berated herself for holding it so long.
“I’d found somewhere to stay everywhere I was visiting, except here. Ringing all those hostels, I knew how Mary and Joseph must have felt.”
“Well there’s plenty of room at this inn. Would you like some tea? The kettle’s just boiled.”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
“Sure.” Jo turned away, desperate to control the feeling raging through her. The guy was cute. Cute with a capital
C
. Her heart pounded, fit to burst. Her palms were damp, and the rest of her danced on air. Had God imported Mr. Right? No, it was pointless even considering the idea. He was probably married or had a girlfriend or something.
She made the tea and passed it to him, taking a surreptitious look at his left hand. No, not married. There still could be a girlfriend. No way was a hunk like him single. Maybe he was a new age bloke who didn’t wear a ring. “Here you go. Do you have a big family?”
Even as she said it, she mentally slapped herself. That was less than tactful, but hopefully he’d think she meant family other than girlfriend.
“Thank you.” John took the tea, his fingers brushing against hers. “You could say that. I have Mum and Dad, three sisters, two brother-in-laws, two nephews, and a niece with another niece or nephew on the way. Not to mention grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. My eldest sister, Dorrie knows what the new baby is, but she’s not telling anyone. They’re not all hers, one of the boys is Emma’s—my youngest sister. She works with Sandy.”
There was something about his accent that would make even the most boring conversation about the weather sound perfectly heavenly.
“Cool. I’m an auntie, as well. I have four parents as they both remarried, two brothers, two sisters-in-law, with five nieces and two nephews between them. Anyway it’s kind of rowdy when they all get together. Seven kids go wild at Grandma’s house.”
John smiled, and the way his face crinkled made him even more handsome. Jo’s knees weakened, and she covered it by leaning against the counter and sipping her tea.
“Sounds like an Enid Blyton book. Have to get Dorrie to write it. She’s a published Christian fiction author. Normally she writes romantic suspense, but she’s been talking about writing a children’s book for a while now.”
“Really? Wow. That’s so clever. Most people just talk about writing a book, but to actually do it and get published is awesome.” Jo laughed. “What are you doing today?”
“I’m climbing the Harbor Bridge this morning. Then I thought I’d go to Manly.”
“Do you know why it’s called Manly?”
John shook his head. “No.”
“It was the first part of the city named by a European. Arthur Philip named it after the group of muscular Aborigines he saw there.” Her grin widened at the look on John’s face and the way his brows shot up into his hair. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by shock or plain disbelief, but either way it was cute. “Seriously, it’s named Manly because of the really good looking men there.”
John laughed. “Cool. Anyway, thanks for the tea, Jo. I’ll keep an eye out for the muscular Aborigines. No doubt Dorrie will want photos of them as well as the bridge and opera house. Hopefully see you later.”
“Have a good day.” Jo nodded, her gaze following him to the door. Should she have asked him along to her church? By the time she finished the thought, he was gone. She’d been more than a little distracted. When he spoke her name it sounded like nothing she’d ever heard before.
Jo couldn’t think of a word to describe the headiness filling every part of her. She hadn’t put much faith in the notion of love at first sight. Until now. And that wasn’t fair at all. There had to be thousands upon thousands of blokes in Australia and she had to fall for one from England.
You know Lord, that’s a bit mean. No, make that incredibly mean. First decent bloke You bring my way in years, and You have him live on the other side of the world. It’s not fair. Unless he is my import?
****
John sat at Manly, gazing out over the sea. The beach was filled with hundreds of people having fun and couples simply being with each other. To his right, a family sat building sandcastles. Girls in bikinis lay on the sand, trying to tan as much of their bodies as they could. Men in shorts strolled along the shoreline, doing their best to attract the attention of the women.
Only one thought filled his mind: The woman he’d met at the apartment-unit. Her dark hair framed her face, and her deep brown eyes sparkled with life and an inner beauty he knew only came from knowing the Lord. Even though he’d most likely freaked her out the day before, she’d been kind and chatty. And none of the women on the beach in front of him could hold a torch to her. Or the women from back home come to that.
Jo. Just her name filled him with warmth and a longing he didn’t understand. He gazed over at the sea pounding on the sand, the surfers riding the waves in. He’d just met this woman, yet something about her, reached out to him on a level he hadn’t expected. Some instant connection, more than the fact they were both Christians, but it could never be. He was only here for a few days. It wasn’t fair on either of them to start up a long-distance romance.
John took a deep breath. Jo affected him far deeper than any other woman ever had. When he looked at her something moved inside him. A shift of almost seismic proportions and that had to be the most ironic thing ever.
I must have prayed a million times for a woman who loved You to come into my life to share it. And now I meet Jo. She overflows with her love for You. It shines through her, but it’s more than that. I’d say I was falling for her fast. But she lives here half a world away.
He didn’t know what to ask or what to say. He couldn’t ask God to change the world for just one person. That wouldn’t be fair. No matter how much he wanted to be selfish.
****
Jo put the finishing touches to dinner and grabbed her bag. She’d spent more time than usual preparing something—even searched up a recipe online and made something English so John would feel at home. Not that she’d admit that to anyone, especially him. He’d been in her thoughts all day long, his voice echoing in her mind and if she closed her eyes she could still see him leaning against the counter, sipping the tea, his eyes lighting up behind his glasses.
She’d hoped John would have gotten back before she left for work, but he seemed intent on making the most of the day. That was totally understandable. She’d no doubt do the same thing if she ever got to England. But at the same time, she’d miss not seeing his smiling face before she left. Scrawling a note, she addressed it to both Pip and John, telling them dinner was in the oven and would be ready at seven.
She’d half hoped John would have asked her to go to Manly with him that morning. Although why should he, as they’d only just met? Then when he didn’t, she toyed with the idea of going anyway in the hopes of bumping into him.
But she wasn’t that desperate and didn’t want him to think she was a stalker.
He was here for a few days, and then he’d be going home to his family and his job and his life on the other side of the world. Was she wrong to want more? To hope for more? To ask for more?
She opened the door on the way out to find John standing the other side, his finger poised over the doorbell. Her heart leapt into her throat. Joy at seeing him radiated through her, spilling into what was probably a silly smile glued to her lips. “Oh, hi, John. How was your day?”
“It was good.” His smile sent ripples down her spine and curled around her stomach.
“If you want to use the phone to ring home, Pip said to tell you it’s fine. Dinner will be ready at seven if you want it, and Pip should be back by six. I’m off to work. See you in the morning.”
John nodded. “Sure, good night.”
Jo smiled and took a step onto the porch.
“Where do you work?”
His voice stopped her in her tracks. “In the restaurant two blocks from here. It’s usually manic on a Saturday night. Oh, that reminds me. Did you find a church for tomorrow?”
“No, I haven’t done yet. I passed several, but none of them seemed right. Do you know of one fairly close that I could attend?”
“Well, you can come to ours if you like. We leave at nine.”
“That sounds good, thank you.”
“Welcome. OK, laters.” She hurried down the stairs, not wanting to be tardy, yet aware of John standing in the doorway watching her. She debated taking the car and decided against. It was only two blocks and a warm night. The walk would do her good and might even clear her mind of the one person filling it. He was coming to church with her tomorrow…
The thought pulled Jo up short. Had she just asked him out and he accepted? Did church count as a date? Since when did she start asking people out? Had someone hit her over the head with a two by four when she wasn’t looking? Or was she so infatuated with this Englishman that she’d do anything to spend as much time with him as she could?
****
Work was busy and by the time she finished at eleven thirty, Jo was hot, sweaty, and exhausted. All she wanted to do was go home, shower, read her Bible, pray, and fall into bed. Second thoughts, skip the shower. Read, pray, then fall into bed and shower in the morning. Much better plan.
She stopped short as she hit the street. John sat on the bench opposite the restaurant. His blond hair shone under the street light, his jacket hung open in the warm night air and a white shirt, with an almost neon glow in the light, clung to his chest.
Wondering if she were seeing things at first, Jo stood there for a moment. Then she moved over to him. “Hi.”
John got lazily to his feet. “Hello. I figured I’d come walk you home. If that’s all right with you. Pip told me what time you finished. I didn’t like the idea of you walking home alone in the dark.”
Still awestruck by the way the light emphasized every muscle of his body, she paused a second while his words sunk in. He cared about the fact she’d be walking in the dark? Half of her wanted to tell him that she did that a lot. After every shift in fact. The other half was amazed at the chivalry of a total stranger. Not even the guy who lived across the hall, whom she’d known for months, had manners that good. Such politeness must be a Brit thing.
Her voice didn’t want to work. She found it after a long pause. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
He fell into step beside her. “How was work?”
“It was pretty busy. Saturday’s always are, but tonight was the worst yet. I did get a break of some description, but being shorthanded didn’t really help. Not when the queue was out the door at one point.”
“Maybe no one wanted to cook tonight because of the heat.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Speaking of cooking, dinner was delicious. Thank you. I wasn’t expecting you to cook for me. It’s enough you guys are providing me with somewhere to crash.”
Jo smiled. “No worries. I tend to cook most nights and don’t mind doing a little extra for you.”
“Thank you. It’s much appreciated.” He walked next to her, head and shoulders taller than she was. What would it be like to walk with his arm around her waist, her head on his shoulder? Would the height difference make it awkward or better?
She shook her head. She should content herself with this. Nothing more would happen. She was being ridiculous.
“What’s your church like?”
His voice brought her back to reality with a jolt. She tugged her shirt down, forcing her voice to at least sound level, even if her heart were racing nineteen to the dozen. “It’s pretty big. We have two services on Saturday evening, three on Sunday morning, and two Sunday evening. Each one is packed with upwards of three to five thousand people over the course of the three morning services. Our sister church on the other side of the city is bigger. So over the course of all the services they get about fourteen thousand.”
John’s jaw dropped. “Wow. And I thought my church was big with three hundred at each service.”