Topaz Heat (Christian Romance) (The Jewel Series) by Hallee Bridgeman Page B

with his back against the rock wall and leaned back on his heels, temporarily sheltered from the icy mist outside. He needed to head back down before this rain turned to sleet, but he decided to just take another moment, get a little warmer.
    Without the concentration of the climb, he thought back to the night before at Tony’s house. Hope, horror, humiliation – strong emotions waged a battle inside his chest. He had prayed for Sarah for so many years that as he delved into the prayer the night before, he forgot himself. While he was certain God appreciated that kind of dedicated focus, the slip of the tongue destroyed just about any dream of the kind of future he had always hoped to find in Sarah. Not that he really harbored too much confidence that she would eventually come around to at least liking him a little bit, but there had always been that slim, sliver of hope. Maybe just a small glimmer – but hope nonetheless.
    Derrick would never forget that first week with Tony. He would never forget appreciating the clean smell of the sheets and the warm room that greeted him when he got out of bed in the mornings, bitter cold ice and snow blanketing the city below him. He would always remember the shopping trip Maxine took him on, clothing him in good, brand new clothes – never before had he worn new shoes. Never had a pair of fleece-lined leather gloves warmed his hands.
    It took him a long time to quit expecting the Viscollis to stop all this bluffing and play their real hand. It took him a long time to realize their love was real, genuine, and his for the taking. Their faith gave him a life, and once he started trusting them, he started trusting the one they called God. Once he started trusting God, his life had significance, their love had meaning, and he recognized that he had a purpose. He fell in love with Sarah gradually, deeply, and truly.
    Late one Saturday night, he had stood in the kitchen of Tony’s penthouse apartment wearing nothing but cotton pajama pants and a white T-shirt while sipping ice water and making a tuna fish sandwich on toast. Sarah had walked in and studied him from head to toe like he was some kind of anomaly for which she couldn’t account.
    Very precocious in appearance at perhaps half his size and at least a foot shorter than he, she had not smiled. Instead, her honey golden eyes – eyes the color of the richest topaz – had looked large and somewhat critical behind her glasses.
    She wore an ankle length plaid skirt and a simple white blouse beneath a long sleeved button down sweater. She had an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. He remembered her reddish hair looking like it had a will of its own. “Hey,” He stuck a thumb in the direction of his chest. “Derrick. Derrick DiNunzio.”
    Derrick was years away from elocution lessons and speaking in full and grammatically correct sentences. By contrast, the girl before him spoke with a cultured diction and nearly perfect inflection, sounding rather more like a Cape Cod Kennedy than a South Boston nursing student. “I know who you are. I’m Sarah. What on earth are you eating? It smells like an outdoor dock market in here.”
    Derrick shrugged. “Just tuna. Want I should make you a sandwich?”
    Sarah had shuddered and her face had fallen in disgust. “Certainly not.”
    Her haughty tone nearly made him laugh aloud. Derrick had recently discovered a love for classic films. The teenage girl standing before him reminded him of a 1930s film noir movie matron, offended at the notion of this or that and uninhibited in communicating that offense to the world. He snapped his fingers. “Sarah. Right. Going to church with us tomorrow, yeah?”
    “I’m going to church with my half-sisters, yes. Why?” Her chin jutted out.
    Her arrogance made him want to tease her even more. He nodded and said, “Well, Sarah, it’s just peachy keen to meet ya.” He took an enormous bite of his tuna on toast and a spot of mayonnaise remained at the