Butterflies went bonkers in her stomach. No biggie. One day with him was nothing. Two days if she counted Amber’s wedding. Two and a half if she included the rehearsal dinner. Every muscle tensed. She looked over her shoulder.
Ash walked across the parking lot dressed in khaki shorts, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes. He wore a backpack and carried three pink rectangular boxes.
Her mouth watered. The reaction had nothing to do with what might be in the boxes and everything to do with him. He looked as good dressed casually as in a suit.
Sam blew out a breath. “Oh boy. If Ashton brought donuts, you’re going to have to start dating him or convince him to volunteer more.”
“Because of donuts?”
“Three boxes’ worth? You bet.”
She shook her head. At least she knew what to get Sam for his next birthday.
“Good morning.” Ash raised the pink boxes. “Stopped by the Donut Hole. Figured we might need some sugar to jump-start us this morning.”
Sam kept his hands at his side, but he looked like he wanted to grab the boxes and get first choice. “Thanks. The kids will love them.”
“There’s plenty for everybody.” Ash handed over the donuts. “Help yourself now.”
Sam set the boxes on his car’s trunk. He practically drooled opening the first lid, then removed a maple bar. “Happy you’re onboard, dude. We haven’t had donuts since one of our volunteers moved to Seattle last year.”
Jenna understood Sam’s excitement. Youth ministers didn’t earn a big salary, and donuts weren’t considered a necessity. When she’d been working three jobs, a stick of chewing gum could make her day. “Generous of you.”
Ash’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. The additional lines appealed to her. Not that she should be noticing how he looked. Or find him attractive. Jenna stared at the asphalt in the parking lot.
“I got your favorite,” Ash said. “Old-fashioned chocolate.”
Jenna raised her head. “You remembered?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. Two years isn’t that long.”
“I guess not.” Still, she was . . . touched. Part of her wondered what they’d had together those two years—love, like, convenience. She’d tried to purge everything about Ash from her memory. “You like sugar donuts, right?”
“That’s right.” He sounded pleased.
Funny he liked that type, because he preferred things neat. Maybe the messiness appealed to him on a subconscious level.
Sam’s maple bar disappeared in a final bite. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m not surprised Ash remembered your favorite donut. You’re an old-fashioned girl.”
“You think?” Ash asked.
“Homemade lemonade, baking pies for mission suppers, sewing her own slipcovers, singing along to beach movies from the sixties.” Sam’s words flowed without hesitation. “I’d call that old-fashioned.”
Ash studied Sam with a hard gaze. “You know Jenna well.”
Uh, oh. Ash’s tone sounded almost jealous. But that made no sense. And Sam was her surrogate brother. “I think I’ll have a donut.”
Sam handed Jenna her favorite kind, but his posture changed. He stood taller, his shoulders square to Ash. “I do know Jenna well. She’s worked at the church for over a year and a half. I see her almost every day, including Sundays during the youth service. But I didn’t know her favorite kind of donut until now.”
“That’s because you’re too busy during fellowship time to notice what I’m eating,” she told Sam.
Ash held his donut midair. “You work here at the church?”
She nodded. “I used to be on the cleaning crew, but now I just work the espresso cart. I also fill in if the office is short staffed.”
Ash looked at her with an odd expression. “I wondered why you no longer attended Westside Christian.”
“This is closer.” Jenna could have said that she felt more comfortable here after folks at Westside took Ash’s side, but chose not to. She’d accepted his apology—saying more would solve nothing. “Pastor Dan and Trish help people who find themselves lost or in difficult positions.”
Sam raised his hand. “Like me a few years ago. I’m another stray they took in. They helped me turn my life around.”
“They’re like the animal shelter, except we have a forever home here.” A warm and fuzzy feeling enveloped Jenna. “I can’t see myself going to church anywhere else.”
“We’re happy you found us.” Sam picked up the ice chest she’d filled and loaded it into the bus.
“Sounds like a good place. Maybe I’ll attend a service here,” Ash said to her surprise. “Westside’s been a little . . .”
“Lukewarm,” Sam offered.
Ash rubbed his chin. “Yeah.”
“You need heat. Fire. Give us a try. Join us tomorrow.” Sam eyed the box of donuts again but didn’t take one. “I’m going to grab a few things from my office. The kids won’t be here for another half hour or so.”
With that, he walked into the church.
“Seems like a nice guy,” Ash said.
“The best. Understands the teens. Listens to them and hears what they’re saying.” She ate the rest of her donut. “I received your check. Thanks. Including interest was generous of you.”