Secretly Yours: A Christian Valentine's Day Romance (Riverbend Romance Novella Book 1) by Valerie Comer
Authors: Valerie Comer
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Chapter 1
“Please say yes!” Madison begged.
Lindsey Solberg leaned out the car window and into the freezing wind. Had she ever been as enthusiastic about anything as her sixteen-year-old sister was now? “Madison, I don’t know. My boss may see it as a conflict of interest. And I just don’t know that I have time to take this on.”
Madison dropped both hands to her hips, her long hair blowing sideways. “But we need you. Pastor Nick says we could earn the rest of the funds in one night if the Valentine’s banquet does well.”
Would she ever hear the name Nick without thinking of the guy from high school? Not likely. But one thing she knew for certain. Nick Harrison wasn’t the pastor of any church, to say nothing of how he’d been even more eager to leave the small town of Riverbend, British Columbia, behind than she had.
“Please, Lindsey. At least say you’ll think about it.”
Lindsey closed her eyes, letting the biting wind cool her cheeks. More like letting it pelt her with icy snowflakes through the open window. “Get in the car, Madison.”
Her sister tilted her head to one side. “You’ll think about it?”
“Fine. I’ll think about it. Now get in.”
“Yay!” Madison sashayed around the car as Lindsey raised the window and rubbed her cold hands together.
Several other teens hung around the parking lot beside the church, presumably waiting for their rides home. The winter roads would only get worse in the next few hours. At least when she’d lived in Castlebrook, there had been city transit wherever she needed to go, especially on the occasional wintry days. Being back in Riverbend meant driving everywhere. The town was too long and skinny for walking yet too small for a bus system. She hadn’t driven on slick roads in eight years.
She shifted into reverse and gingerly put her foot on the accelerator, but Madison’s hand grabbed her arm. “There he is. Pastor Nick is the dreamiest thing ever, don’t you think?”
Lindsey glanced at the man’s silhouette framed against the brightly lit rectangle of the open church doorway. Kind of hard to tell. She pressed the gas and the tires spun. Great exit. Or lack of exit, as the case might be. She pushed harder and the tires whirred as the rear of the car slid sideways.
Oh, no! Heart pounding, Lindsey removed her foot before she smacked the black Toyota parked beside her. Bare centimeters separated them.
“Whoa, don’t hit Pastor Nick’s car!”
As though she’d done it on purpose. Lindsey sucked in a deep breath. “It’s really slippery.”
Madison slumped in the passenger seat. “Want me to drive?”
“Are you kidding me? You only got your learner’s permit last week.”
“Well, I can drive at least as good as you can.”
She probably could, but no way was Lindsey going to test that out. But how was she going to get this old car out of the parking lot with apparently bald tires?
A rush of cold wind and snow blasted in as Madison shoved her door open. “Hey! Give us a push!” she hollered.
Great. All Lindsey needed was a dozen teens making fun of her. And Pastor Nick, of course, though he was probably some balding ancient man and not the amazingly hot guy Nick Harrison had likely turned into since high school.
The group streamed toward the car and leaned on the hood. Someone tapped on her window and she pressed the button to lower it again.
“On the count of three, give it a little gas.”
She knew that voice. Nick?
“One.”
Harrison?
“Two.”
Not a chance.
“Three.”
A pastor?
The teens pushed against the hood. Belatedly Lindsey remembered she was supposed to be helping. She jammed her foot on the accelerator and the car slid backwards. Sideways, but backwards. Away from the other car.
Nick Harrison? A pastor? Couldn’t be. The name had brought back memories, that was all. Her mind played tricks on her. Not Nick. Not that player who’d tampered with her heart.
In a flurry of icy slush, her car
“Please say yes!” Madison begged.
Lindsey Solberg leaned out the car window and into the freezing wind. Had she ever been as enthusiastic about anything as her sixteen-year-old sister was now? “Madison, I don’t know. My boss may see it as a conflict of interest. And I just don’t know that I have time to take this on.”
Madison dropped both hands to her hips, her long hair blowing sideways. “But we need you. Pastor Nick says we could earn the rest of the funds in one night if the Valentine’s banquet does well.”
Would she ever hear the name Nick without thinking of the guy from high school? Not likely. But one thing she knew for certain. Nick Harrison wasn’t the pastor of any church, to say nothing of how he’d been even more eager to leave the small town of Riverbend, British Columbia, behind than she had.
“Please, Lindsey. At least say you’ll think about it.”
Lindsey closed her eyes, letting the biting wind cool her cheeks. More like letting it pelt her with icy snowflakes through the open window. “Get in the car, Madison.”
Her sister tilted her head to one side. “You’ll think about it?”
“Fine. I’ll think about it. Now get in.”
“Yay!” Madison sashayed around the car as Lindsey raised the window and rubbed her cold hands together.
Several other teens hung around the parking lot beside the church, presumably waiting for their rides home. The winter roads would only get worse in the next few hours. At least when she’d lived in Castlebrook, there had been city transit wherever she needed to go, especially on the occasional wintry days. Being back in Riverbend meant driving everywhere. The town was too long and skinny for walking yet too small for a bus system. She hadn’t driven on slick roads in eight years.
She shifted into reverse and gingerly put her foot on the accelerator, but Madison’s hand grabbed her arm. “There he is. Pastor Nick is the dreamiest thing ever, don’t you think?”
Lindsey glanced at the man’s silhouette framed against the brightly lit rectangle of the open church doorway. Kind of hard to tell. She pressed the gas and the tires spun. Great exit. Or lack of exit, as the case might be. She pushed harder and the tires whirred as the rear of the car slid sideways.
Oh, no! Heart pounding, Lindsey removed her foot before she smacked the black Toyota parked beside her. Bare centimeters separated them.
“Whoa, don’t hit Pastor Nick’s car!”
As though she’d done it on purpose. Lindsey sucked in a deep breath. “It’s really slippery.”
Madison slumped in the passenger seat. “Want me to drive?”
“Are you kidding me? You only got your learner’s permit last week.”
“Well, I can drive at least as good as you can.”
She probably could, but no way was Lindsey going to test that out. But how was she going to get this old car out of the parking lot with apparently bald tires?
A rush of cold wind and snow blasted in as Madison shoved her door open. “Hey! Give us a push!” she hollered.
Great. All Lindsey needed was a dozen teens making fun of her. And Pastor Nick, of course, though he was probably some balding ancient man and not the amazingly hot guy Nick Harrison had likely turned into since high school.
The group streamed toward the car and leaned on the hood. Someone tapped on her window and she pressed the button to lower it again.
“On the count of three, give it a little gas.”
She knew that voice. Nick?
“One.”
Harrison?
“Two.”
Not a chance.
“Three.”
A pastor?
The teens pushed against the hood. Belatedly Lindsey remembered she was supposed to be helping. She jammed her foot on the accelerator and the car slid backwards. Sideways, but backwards. Away from the other car.
Nick Harrison? A pastor? Couldn’t be. The name had brought back memories, that was all. Her mind played tricks on her. Not Nick. Not that player who’d tampered with her heart.
In a flurry of icy slush, her car
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