One More Kiss Read Online Free Page A

FALLEN? ”
    They cracked up all over again. As they struggled to catch their breath, Valerie clicked away on her shiny heels, wishing them a terse “Good day.”
    Finally, when they’d spent themselves on laughter, Randall straightened and took a deep breath. Behind him, Main Street’s awnings flapped in the breeze. “When I first came over, I was on my way to get a coffee and a cruller from the Rolling Pin. How about I double the order, and I can help you with that banner?”
    The heart hammering was back. He wanted to stick around.
    “That would be fine. I can go get a ladder from the hardware store if want to grab breakfast.”
    “Be back in a moment, then,” Randall said and started off across the street.
    She watched his long strides eat up the pavement and marveled at the effervescence she felt. After the morning she’d had, she should be slamming doors and tossing bolts of fabric around like ragdolls. Instead, she was standing on Main Street, grinning like an idiot and looking forward to the project ahead.
    With Randall Sondheim.
    Betty smiled bigger. She should be furious. Incensed.
    Instead, she was downright happy.
    Not that she was going to get overworked about it. She took a breath, reminding herself that the pastor’s help didn’t mean anything. It was probably just him being kind, the same way he was always pushing Mrs. Ivard’s wheelchair into the church before the sermon started, or the way he was always going last in the potluck line to make sure his congregation was served first.
    She was probably just a form of charity for him. Nothing more.
    Even so, her mood matched the sparkling fall sun and she thought suddenly that she could face down a whole storeful of bad signs if Randall Sondheim was going to stick around and ply her with coffee and donuts while he helped her take them down.

Chapter Two
    R andall Sondheim stood at the counter of the Rolling Pin staring at the menu board but not reading the words. His mind was stuck on Betty Lindholm, and the fact that he was going to spend the rest of the morning with her. Just the two of them. Working to take down that banner together.
    His gut kicked in an unfamiliar way. It took him a moment to realize it was excitement. Followed closely by nervous wariness.
    “Heya, Pastor.” Jessie Reed was behind the counter, giving him her usual red-lipped smile. Her hair was pulled into a twist and she had on a dress that reminded him of his favorite old movies: the ones with Humphrey Bogart or Rita Hayworth; cigarette smoke and tumblers filled with hooch. Jessie came faithfully to church every Sunday, and one day after service he’d asked Jessie why she preferred vintage clothing. She’d replied that she might only be twenty-one, but she had a soul meant for another time. He thought he’d understood precisely what she’d meant by that.
    She put her bony elbows on the counter. “You’re a little late today. You want your usual?”
    Randall always came in on Wednesday mornings. And he always ordered the same thing: black coffee and a sour cream cruller. “Not today,” he said, staring at the menu board again and realizing he had no earthly idea what kind of donuts Betty might like. “I’m ordering for two.”
    Jessie raised a finely penciled brow. “You don’t say. Who’s the lucky gal?”
    Randall jerked his head in the direction of the fabric store. “Betty Lindholm is having some trouble with a sign above her door.” He hoped he sounded sufficiently businesslike. He didn’t want Jessie to know he’d been looking for a way to spend time with Betty Lindholm for quite a while now, trying to get closer to the way she smiled with her small, perfect teeth or the way she ran her business with sharp savvy. Not to mention that Betty was one of the few people who didn’t handle him with kid gloves—who didn’t think “pastor” and immediately put on a mask of good behavior.
    But beyond his lame attempts at picking out new fabric for his office