Journal Jots – Blog

“Joy and pain …

two arteries of the one heart

that pumps through all those who don’t

numb themselves to really living.”

 —Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

Salt and pepper, sweet and sour, comedy and drama—polar opposites that complement each other, enhancing the whole. Let’s face it—too much salt and not enough pepper prunes the tongue and scrunches the nose, ruining the taste. Too much sweet sickens the stomach, diminishing its appeal, diluting the wonder of favorite things like peach cobbler, red velvet cake or Reeses Cups. And I’m sorry, but those things are TOO wonderful to not enjoy fully.

And just when does one enjoy favorite things more fully? Well, how ‘bout that first burst of sweetness from a Hershey bar after a diet? That low moan when you sample a favorite dessert you haven’t had in a long, long time? Or even that first savor of chunky chicken noodle soup that you can finally taste when you’re appetite returns after the flu? The truth is NOTHING in life would look, taste, feel, smell or sound as good if there wasn’t a polar opposite to heighten the joy of things we love, an absence makes the heart grow fonder, if you will.

And actually, it’s the same thing with drama and comedy, as I point out in a Seeker blog I wrote once entitled “Ho-Ho-Ho! Funny You should Say That … Or Putting Humor in our Writing (http://seekerville.blogspot.com/2011/12/ho-ho-ho-funny-you-should-say-that-or.html).

You see, this blog on humor points out all too well how humor helps to enhance a dramatic scene as well as provide comic relief from anything too heavy. And quite frankly, too much humor makes my jaws ache from laughing and my stomach hurt because the bottom line is, we need the one to really enjoy the other.

Unfortunately, this is a fact I learn all too well in the month of December. Especially this December when I have a book deadline of January 15 and still have a 100 pages to go in the novel. YIKES!!! Didn’t plan it, but somehow I managed to bunch up three books releasing in a six-month span, and life has been CRAZEEEE!! Then add Christmas to the mix along with a Christmas e-book for which I have to do all promotion myself, and my back gets pushed to the wall. Unfortunately, this tends to pull the plug on my Christmas joy and pop my bubble of passion, leaving me flat, dull, and without the slightest desire to open my laptop. The fire and fervor that usually flows through my veins sludges to a cold stop, robbing me of the ability to work on things with deadlines looming. Of course I mope, I cry, I get mad. And then I get on my knees.

Oh the highs of lows of being a human being! That roller-coaster of laughter and tears, success and failure that zooms us to the heights, only to careen us into the valleys below. And yet, without the lows, the highs would never be fully appreciated and would, in fact, become commonplace and dull, grossly unappreciated, evoking little or no gratitude.

And gratitude, my dear friends, is everything. It’s the path to joy as Ann Voskamp so beautifully points out in her amazing New York Times bestseller, One Thousand Gifts (A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are).

Soooo … how can the negatives of a being a human being—sickness, financial difficulties, deadlines, conflict, etc.—possibly enhance our lives, you ask? Oh, honey, by drawing us closer to HIM, because when push comes to shove, hurt comes to tears, hope comes to despair, the God who loves us with “an everlasting love,” Who guards us as the “apple of His eye” is waiting to scoop us up, dry our tears and adjust our perspective. Gently, lovingly whispering in our ear that that awful thing that so disappointed us never did or ever could contain the joy we so desperately seek. No amount of success, money or even blessing from the hand of God such as a wonderful marriage and life, can EVER fulfill like the love of God. To teach the ongoing lesson that it’s only the lows, the valleys, the pain … that will set us free from focus on self, which like too much “sweet,” sickens the soul.

Today, the laptop is open and the hearth fire burning again, both in my cozy, twinkle-light hearth room and in my heart. Passion runs high yet again because I know I have a God who loves me SO much, He takes great pains to keep my focus on Him—the true source of all joy, hope and peace. Like a loving parent who insists a child wear seatbelts no matter the tantrum, He knows our journey is SO much more enjoyable and safe when we rest in His arms and are girded by His precepts. It’s not about the pretty sights we pass as we look out the window, it’s about the destination and the journey home … where hearth fires burn and His love warms our souls. Home to Him … the God who has a plan and a purpose for each of us if only we focus on Him instead of our circumstances, praising Him, thanking Him in the midst of good and bad, sweet or sour, laughter or tears. Because He is the God of all, the Light to our dark, the Hope to our despair, and the true Path for our souls.

DECEMBER CONTEST!!!! 

I have been blessed with the privilege of being on the cover of The Book Club Network’s Book Fun Magazine for December, so to say thank you to Nora St. Laurent and her husband Fred, I am holding a contest to drive subscriptions to this wonderful and TOTALLY FREE e-magazine. Inside you will not only find an extensive interview with me, but 88 pages of awesome articles including regular columns such as Passionate Spouse, Family Book Club, and articles by Kim Woodhouse, Jeff Petherick and Sandie D. Bricker, as well as two hilarious articles by Renae Brumbaugh.

SO, WHAT DO YOU WIN??? A $150 VALUE AS FOLLOWS:

— A KINDLE (or equivalent gift card for $69)

— COPY OF THE WELL BY MARK HALL (the fabulous book mentioned above)

— YOUR CHOICE OF ANY OF MY BOOKS

— CHOICE OF FIVE OF THE FOLLOWING CBA BOOKS:

—Like Dandelion Dust by Karen Kingsbury

—Redemption by Karen Kingsbury

—And the Shofar Blew by Francine Rivers

—The Atonement Child by Francine Rivers

—Faith by Lori Copeland

—Glamorous Illusions by Lisa Bergren

—Long Trail Home by Vickie McDonough

—Out of Control by Mary Connealy

—Wedded to War by Jocelyn Green

 

—House of Secrets by Tracie Peterson

—Breathe by Lisa Bergren

—Twice Promised by Maggie Brendan

—Snow Angel by Jamie Carie

—A Lady of Secret Devotion by Tracie Peterson

—The Power of a Praying Parent by Stormie Omartian

SO, HOW DO YOU WIN? Simply get as many people as you can to sign up for a FREE subscription to Book Fun Magazine, 1 entry per subscription. If you personally subscribe or have already subscribed, that is an automatic entry. Please let me know the number of subscriptions you’ve gotten by contacting me through my website or Facebook. The winner from this random drawing will be announced in my December 28 Journal Jot.

IT’S EASY, IT’S FREE AND IT’S A GREAT MAGAZINE that will automatically come via e-mail each month, so here’s the link and GOOD LUCK IN THE CONTEST!!

CLICK HERE FOR FREE SUBSCRIPTION TO BOOK FUN MAGAZINE!!!

 

HEY … DID YOU LIKE STEVEN O’CONNOR IN A LOVE SURRENDERED? Here’s your chance to vote for him (or another favorite hero) in the following “Hero of the Year” contest. Vote and leave a comment and be entered to win the book of their choice (including A Love Surrendered!) from any of the heroes’ books featured this year. Here’s the link and GOOD LUCK!!

CLICK HERE FOR “HERO OF THE YEAR” CONTEST

 

BLOG INTERVIEW GIVEAWAYS:

SURPRISE LAST-MINUTE GIVEAWAY OF THREE COPIES OF A LIGHT IN THE WINDOW!!

Sweet Carrie Fancett Pagels is giving away THREE COPIES of A Light in the Window with her review of said book at the following link, so hop on over to:

http://cfpagels.blogspot.com/2012/12/review-of-light-in-window-by-julie.html

 

ENDS DECEMBER 7, 2012:

Win your choice of any of my books including A Love Surrendered and my Christmas e-book A Light in the Window: An Irish Christmas Love Story at a giveaway on LENA NELSON DOOLEY’S blog at:

http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com/2012/11/a-love-surrendered-and-light-in-window.html

 

ENDS DECEMBER 10, 2012:

Win your choice of any of my books including A Love Surrendered and my Christmas e-book A Light in the Window: An Irish Christmas Love Story at a giveaway on THE SWORD AND THE SPIRIT blog at:

http://theswordandspirit.blogspot.com/

 

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 12, 2012:

Win your choice of any of my books including A Love Surrendered and my Christmas e-book A Light in the Window: An Irish Christmas Love Story at a giveaway on my Seeker blog entitled, “A Christmas Story …” Here’s the link and hope to see you there!

http://seekerville.blogspot.com/

HUGS AND HAPPY WEEKEND!!

Julie

“My people have committed two sins:

They have forsaken me, the spring of living water,

and have dug their own cisterns,

broken cisterns that cannot hold water.”

—Jeremiah 2:13

WHOO-HOO … HAPPY DECEMBER!! Time for Christmas egg nog, mulled cidar, and steaming hot cocoa — bottoms up!!

And speaking of beverages … have you ever been so thirsty that you glugged half of glass of something before you even tasted it? Well, I have, and it’s a memory that will stay with me forever.

It was a steamy St. Louis summer and I was hot and sweaty from playing outside with my friends, chest heaving with exertion and throat parched as I bolted into the kitchen where my mom was making dinner.

Talk about a mirage in the desert! There on the counter stood a tall, icy glass of Kool-aid, rivulets of water slithering down its frosty sides faster than sweat slithered my face. Without a second thought as to whose drink it might be, I promptly upended half the glass before I realized it was the bloody water from the roast my mom was cooking for dinner. Stomach roiling, I gagged and spewed into the sink, quite sure I would never drink anything that nasty again.

Boy, was I all wet! Throughout my life, I guzzled aplenty—drinking stagnant water from broken cisterns that could never quite quench my thirst. Instead of drawing “springs of water” from the true Well of life, I opted to draw from deep, dark holes filled with dirty water that left me parched and thirsty and sick to my stomach.

Holes of Approval.

Holes of Talent.

Holes of Success.

Talk about roast water!!

You know, I always assumed “my mama didn’t raise no stupid chillin’,” but at the ripe old age of sixty-two, I’m definitely rethinking that. You see, it’s taken me that long to understand something that could have saved me from years of sucking dirty pond water. Like the lone Samaritan woman who met Jesus at the well, I failed to fully grasp that Jesus is the only Well, the only true Source of “living water,” and the only replenishment that can quench and satisfy our souls.

Five years ago, my first book hit the bookstore shelves and from that point on, I’ve struggled with the age-old problem with which all authors grapple, and that’s the annoying focus on sales, contest wins, good reviews and contracts. You know what I mean—drawing satisfaction and confidence from the holes of success and approval rather than from God?

Oh, as Christians we all talk a good game and most of us even trust God and love Him with a passion most pure (sorry, couldn’t resist!), but when it comes to the source we tap for our hopes, dreams and happiness? I suspect most of us—or at least myself, for sure—dip into stagnant holes of our own choosing to make us feel better rather than drawing our sustenance from the Well of Living Water. These stagnant holes can be anything we run to instead of God—be it food, drink, money, approval, success—you name it—and we may not even be aware of just how much of an idol these things have become. I certainly wasn’t fully aware that I was trying to draw my happiness from success as an author, and yet the more I drank from this stagnant hole, the sicker and weaker I became. Sewer water that almost ruined the joy of the beautiful gift God has given me—the privilege of writing for Him!

Well, sweet rivers of grace—the good news is that after almost five years of being published, I have finally turned a corner on this nasty problem through a combination of prayer, fasting and a pretty amazing book entitled The Well by Mark Hall, pastor and lead singer for Casting Crowns. You see, my church has been urging each of its 6,000 members to read this book, and once you do, it’s pretty obvious why. Like Jesus told the Samaritan woman at the well, He is the only source of “living water,” and to try and draw our confidence, peace, hope and joy from stagnant holes of our own devise will never truly satisfy and only make us sick.

The pastor of our church did an incredible job speaking on this very subject not two weeks ago, and I have to say that it is easily one of the top two best sermons I have ever heard in my life. And to show you just much it impacted both me and my husband, Keith told me that this message is one of only two times he has ever teared up in a sermon, so I encourage you to check it out on the link below if you have a chance. You won’t be sorry.

“PLANS FOR GOOD” SERMON FROM THE CROSSING CHURCH

DECEMBER CONTEST!!!! 

I have been blessed with the privilege of being on the cover of The Book Club Network’s Book Fun Magazine for December, so to say thank you to Nora St. Laurent and her husband Fred, I am holding a contest to drive subscriptions to this wonderful and TOTALLY FREE e-magazine. Inside you will not only find an extensive interview with me, but 88 pages of awesome articles including regular columns such as Passionate Spouse, Family Book Club, and articles by Kim Woodhouse, Jeff Petherick and Sandie D. Bricker, as well as two hilarious articles by Renae Brumbaugh.

 

SO, WHAT DO YOU WIN??? A $150 VALUE AS FOLLOWS:

— A KINDLE (or equivalent gift card for $69)

— COPY OF THE WELL BY MARK HALL (the fabulous book mentioned above)

— YOUR CHOICE OF ANY OF MY BOOKS

— CHOICE OF FIVE OF THE FOLLOWING CBA BOOKS:

—Like Dandelion Dust by Karen Kingsbury

—Redemption by Karen Kingsbury

—And the Shofar Blew by Francine Rivers

—The Atonement Child by Francine Rivers

—Faith by Lori Copeland

—Glamorous Illusions by Lisa Bergren

—Long Trail Home by Vickie McDonough

—Out of Control by Mary Connealy

—A Distant Melody by Sarah Sundin

—House of Secrets by Tracie Peterson

—Breathe by Lisa Bergren

—Twice Promised by Maggie Brendan

—Faith by Lori Copeland

—Snow Angel by Jamie Carie

—The Atonement Child by Francine Rivers

—A Lady of Secret Devotion by Tracie Peterson

—The Power of a Praying Parent by Stormie Omartian

 

SO, HOW DO YOU WIN? Simply get as many people as you can to sign up for a FREE subscription to Book Fun Magazine, 1 entry per subscription. If you personally subscribe or have already subscribed, that is an automatic entry. Please let me know the number of subscriptions you’ve gotten by contacting me through my website or Facebook. The winner from this random drawing will be announced in my December 28 Journal Jot.

IT’S EASY, IT’S FREE AND IT’S A GREAT MAGAZINE that will automatically come via e-mail each month, so here’s the link and GOOD LUCK IN THE CONTEST!!

CLICK HERE FOR FREE SUBSCRIPTION TO BOOK FUN MAGAZINE!!!

 

HEY … DID YOU LIKE STEVEN O’CONNOR IN A LOVE SURRENDERED? Here’s your chance to vote for him (or another favorite hero) in the following “Hero of the Year” contest. Vote and leave a comment and be entered to win the book of their choice (including A Love Surrendered!) from any of the heroes’ books featured this year. Here’s the link and GOOD LUCK!!

CLICK HERE FOR “HERO OF THE YEAR” CONTEST

 

BLOG INTERVIEW GIVEAWAYS:

NOVEMBER 27 – DECEMBER 7, 2012:

Win your choice of any of my books including A Love Surrendered and my Christmas e-book A Light in the Window: An Irish Christmas Love Story at a giveaway on LENA NELSON DOOLEY’S blog at:

http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com/2012/11/a-love-surrendered-and-light-in-window.html

 

NOVEMBER 29, 2012:

Win your choice of any of my books including A Love Surrendered and my Christmas e-book A Light in the Window: An Irish Christmas Love Story at a giveaway on THE SWORD AND THE SPIRIT blog at:

http://theswordandspirit.blogspot.com/

HUGS AND HAPPY WEEKEND!!

Julie

HAPPY BLACK FRIDAY … which, pardon the slam, is only “happy” for me if I’m NOT at a mall! Don’t get me wrong — I truly admire the die-hard shoppers who brave the crazy crowds, but I’m definitely not one of them. Uh, except for today, that is, when my “shopping” was both “happy” and “crazy” — uh, “crazy” expensive, that is, shopping for a wedding dress for my daughter.

But, OH, what joy for a mother — to see that precocious three-year-old go from twirling in a blue, lacey tutu … to a young woman of twenty-five, whirling in front of a bridal shop mirror! Just one more reason to give thanks to the Almighty the day after Thanksgiving … and the day after that … and after that …

So, after a wonderful afternoon shopping with my daughter following a fabulous Thanksgiving when we fixed two turkeys for 30 people, I find myself contented and happy, yes, but also a wee bit too tuckered out to write a Journal Jot. Which means you luck out — something else to be thankful for!! — because instead of me writing a book today, I will post an excerpt from a book instead.

And … since my Review Contest for my recent release A Love Surrendered ends November 30th (see details on my CONTEST tab where you can win having a character named after you in my next book Love at Any Cost, a signed copy of that book and a $50 gift card … or where even one review enters you into a random drawing of Love at Any Cost), I thought it might be appropriate to share one of my favorite scenes in A Love Surrendered instead.

To set the scene up, our hero Prohibition Agent Steven O’Connor is part of a speakeasy raid where he discovers our young and innocent heroine is a bit tipsy after her best friend’s older sister spiked her Dr. Pepper without her knowledge. He saves her from the police paddy wagons, of course … but not without giving her a piece of his mind first.

I hope you enjoy the excerpt and may your thanksgiving continue throughout the weekend and well beyond!

Hugs,

Julie

      The diner was empty except for a booth of teenagers at the far end horsing around and a couple with eyes only for each other. Bing Crosby’s velvet voice crooned from a jukebox in the corner, lending a cozy intimacy to a place that smelled of burgers and chicken fried steak.

      “What are we doing?” she asked, voice hoarse and husky as if she were a chain smoker.

      “Getting some coffee into you before I take you home. Trust me, you’re in no condition to face Aunt Eleanor right now.” He steered her into a brown padded booth before taking a seat on the other side, its polished maple table scarred and etched with initials and hearts.

      “Thank you,” she whispered again, hands and eyes fused to the purse in her lap.

      He leaned in with elbows flat, his voice softer than before. “Annie . . . look at me.”

      She shook her head, a shimmering curtain of silky blonde hair falling over one eye, making her appear both innocent and sexy all at the same time.

      Puffing out a sigh, he reached to lift her chin. “I need you to look at me, Annie, please?”

      A frail heave quivered through her and she slowly looked up, eyes spidered with red.

      “Why did you go there tonight?” he said quietly.

      Her throat shifted before she answered. “P-peggy said J-joanie and the others wanted to take me out for my b-birthday, but I thought they just meant d-dinner . . . at a nice restaurant.” Tears flooded her eyes. “I . . . didn’t know . . . it would be a speakeasy, Steven, I s-swear.”

      “I believe you,” he said, relief seeping out on a quiet sigh. He sat back and folded his arms, head cocked as he studied her through slatted eyes. “But why did you drink the booze?”

      “Hi, folks, what’ll it be tonight?” A waitress too perky for the way Steven felt pulled a pencil from behind her ear and a pad from her apron pocket, brows arched in question.

      “Two cups of coffee, please, as hot and strong as it comes.” He squinted at the menu, encased in a plastic holder on the wall of the booth, then glanced at Annie. “You hungry?”

      She shook her head and he ignored her response, ordering two hamburgers, two orders of French fried potatoes, a piece of peach pie, and a glass of milk. “Cream in your coffee?”

      “Please,” she said quietly, fingers fiddling with the leather fringe on the flap of her purse.

      He smiled at the waitress. “One black, one cream.”

      “Coming right up.” Miss Perky tucked the pencil back in her ear and disappeared.

      “So . . . ,” he said, a bit more bite in his tone, “I’m going to ask you again—why did you drink tonight? Was that whole spiel about you turning back to God just a put-on?”

      Her head shot up in a flash of green eyes. “No, of course not! I meant every word.”

      He planted arms on the table, hands loosely clasped and eyes pensive. “Then why?”

      Color burnished her cheeks and she shifted, clearly ill at ease as her hands shrank to her lap. “You won’t believe me.”

      “Try me,” he said, lips flat.

      She drew in a deep breath and peeked up, the color heightening in her face. “I think Erica may have spiked my drink, only I didn’t know it.”

      “You didn’t know it,” he repeated dully, his suspicion on the rise once again. His voice edged toward curt. “You didn’t taste it? Smell it? Feel woozy when the booze took effect?”

      “See? I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” she said with a jut of her chin, temper obviously prickled. “And no, I didn’t smell or taste it, and by the time I suspected anything, it was too late.”

      “What kind of drink was it?” He waited while she paused, his eyes narrowing a tad.

      She swallowed hard. “Dr Pepper.”

      “Did you see Erica or anyone pour anything in?”

      “No, of course not,” she said in a huff. “Do you really think I would drink it if I did?”

      “I don’t know, Annie,” he said leaning back against the booth with a fold of his arms. “You’re not exactly the most honest girl I know.”

      The green eyes blinked wide. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

      His smile went stiff as his anger resurged, every syllable as pointed as the look in his eyes. “I don’t know, you tell me . . . Susannah-Grace-Kennedy.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “And while you’re at it, why don’t you give me an update on how my old girlfriend’s doing?”

      “Here you go, two coffees—one cream, one black, both piping hot. The burgers are about up, so I’ll be back in a jiff.” The waitress set the coffees and utensils down before flitting away.

      Annie didn’t move or blink while she stared in her cup, crimson bleeding into her cheeks.

      His coffee spilled when he jerked up his mug, the liquid scalding his fingers like her deception scalded his temper. “You have nothing to say?”

      A knot jerked in her throat and she looked up, almost a square to her shoulders as she steeled her jaw. “I was wrong, Steven, I should have told you. But I never expected—” She lowered her gaze to blow on her coffee, obviously in an effort to stall.

      “Never expected what?” he asked sharply, glaring over the rim of his cup. She took a timid sip while a full range of emotions flickered across her beautiful face, from hesitation and worry, to vulnerability and shame. And something deeper that raced his pulse and tightened his gut all at the same time.

      She drew in a deep breath before forging on, her gaze finally rising to meet his. “I never expected to . . .” Her voice trailed off until it was barely audible. “Fall in love with you,” she said quietly, the truth hovering in the air like the steam from the coffee.

      She may as well have tossed it in his face—it burned all the same. His jaw went as firm as his will. “You’re not in love with me, Annie.”

      A frail sigh withered from her lips while a sheen of sadness welled in her eyes. “I wasn’t sure either,” she whispered, “until you kissed me that night when you took Glory and me home.”

      He bent forward, palms clutching the table and his tone so harsh and cutting, he saw her flinch. “That was a mistake.”

      “Yes,” she whispered, tears giving way to glints of anger, “it was, Steven, because that night you planted the seed of hope that someday you might feel for me what I feel for you.”

      He slammed his fist on the table, spilling his coffee. “Blast it, Annie, you’re too young.”

      “That’s just an excuse, and we both know it.”

      His mouth went slack. “For the love of all that’s decent—you’re Maggie’s kid sister! Do you really think I can do this with you?”

      She hoisted her chin, blinking back her tears. “I not only think you can, I think you do, but you’re too stubborn to admit it.”

      He gaped, shaking his head as he dropped back in the seat, arm draped over the top. His lips parted in a hard smile meant to convey his disbelief. “You’re out of your mind, kid, you know that? Drink your coffee,” he ordered, “the alcohol’s still muddling your brain.”

      She did what he said, eyes averted and manner calming as if every drink she took braced her for battle. When she finished, she carefully laid the mug down and folded her hands neatly on the table, looking for all her eighteen years and tear-splotched face as if she were the adult and he was the pie-eyed kid on a bender. “What are you afraid of, Steven?” she whispered.

      That did it. “You want to know what I’m afraid of?” he demanded. “I’m afraid of this—some kid still wet behind the ears thinking it’s smart to fool around with a guy like me.”

      “I have no intention of ‘fooling around’ with you,” she said quietly, the strength of her words belying the softness of her tone. “No matter how I feel about you.”

      He stared open-mouthed, heat scalding his neck at the audacity of her statement. His pride prickled. Who did she think she was? Women threw themselves at him all the time. For pity’s sake, her own sister threw herself at him! And she thought she’d be different? He folded arms on the table and leaned in. “Don’t be so sure, little sister,” he said, a trace of anger in a voice that was husky and low. “You Kennedys don’t have the best track record, you know.”

      He heard the sharp catch of her breath and took satisfaction in the blush that broiled her cheeks. And then she opened fire like one of Capone’s thugs, gunning him down with a flash of her eyes. “Well, this is a different Kennedy, Agent O’Connor, and a different sister, and you know what? I think you’re running scared. You can deny your feelings all you want, but the truth is, you kissed me—not once, but twice, not to mention interfering in my life at every turn—”

      “Interfering in your life?” His voice rose along with his blood pressure.

      She defied him with a hard thrust of her chin, eyes glittering. “Yes, first with Billy Brubaker, then Joe and Dale Brannock, and now Eddie tonight when you dragged me away.”

      “Dragged-you-away?” He blinked, barely able to believe he was wasting good breath arguing with a kid who was obviously as thick as she was tipsy. “I should have let them throw your carcass in jail, you brainless brat, and then you’d be Aunt Eleanor’s problem, not mine.”

      “Exactly,” she snapped, as if he’d just proven her point. “But you didn’t. You risked your job and your reputation to haul me out of there tonight, so if we’re going to talk ‘brainless,’ Agent O’Connor, then I suggest you look in the mirror, because unless I miss my guess, you are one dim-witted man with his head in the sand.”

      Miss Perky chose that moment to light on the booth, as welcome as a plague of locusts. “Here you go—two burgers, two orders of French fried potatoes, a slab of peach pie, and a glass of milk.” She dazzled them with a grin. “Anything else?”

      Steven forced a smile, jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached. “Just the check.”

      “Sure thing.” She placed the bill on the table and patted it for good measure. “Enjoy!”

      Grinding his jaw, he grabbed his burger and bit in hard, singeing Annie with a glare.

      She didn’t seem to notice, annoying him to no end. Lips pursed, she carefully cut her burger in half and took a dainty bite while perusing the menu with apparent fascination.

      Halfway through his sandwich, he expelled a noisy breath. “Why are we arguing?”

      She turned, chin elevated and brows raised. “Because you’re dim-witted and scared?”

      He hurled his half-eaten burger on the plate. “Don’t start with me, Annie.”

      “All right, Steven, how ’bout I finish with you instead? Just because I’m in love with you doesn’t mean you can bully me around like some . . . some snot-nosed kid fresh off the farm.”

      “You are some snot-nosed kid fresh off the farm,” he hissed.

      “Fine. Have it your way. There are plenty of guys who see me otherwise.”

      A harsh laugh erupted from his throat. “Oh, yeah, I’ve seen the kind of jokers you attract. Like that clown tonight with his hands all over you.”

      She pushed her burger away, the anger in her tone matching her eyes. “He-was-consoling-me, you dimwit, and at least he’s man enough to take a chance on a girl that he likes.”

      Her statement barbed, discharging his temper with another stony smile. “Sure, why not when he knows he can get what he wants?”

      Her breath hitched, and he regretted the words the moment they left his mouth, but it was too late. Her face sagged from anger into hurt. Chin trembling, she silently rose, hands shaking while she groped for her purse.

      “Annie, look, I’m sorry—”

      Taking a step forward, she hauled off and slapped him so fast he never saw it coming, bells clanging in his skull as loudly as those from the door when it slammed hard behind her.