Written On Her Heart

By Cathy Jackson

This book follows WRITTEN ON HIS HEART...

Award-winning Author Cathy Jackson's contemporary Christian romance in which we find love and forgiveness goes hand-in-hand.

I don't know why he chose me.

Logan is a great man of God. He's a leader in his church. Respected, loved, prayed over.

I'm me. Anise Brandon. Lost, loner, unloved. I left God long ago and hadn't looked back.

But in Logan's choosing me, I'm starting to question myself and the faith I left behind. Does God still love me? Can He love me after all the choices I've made? Of all the holy women Logan could choose, why did he pick me?

These are all questions that need answers before we can even think about being a couple.

Publisher's Note: Written On Heart Heart contains scenes of implied self-pleasure, strong Christian themes that clash and cause an extreme amount of tension.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cathy Jackson
• Release date: Apr 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005697297

Cathy Jackson

Stunningly beautiful and staggeringly intelligent mid-western mother of four writing everything from science fiction to generational epic historical dramas and anything in between.

Book preview

By Cathy Jackson

Copyright 2021 Cathy Jackson

Edited: Stephen Zimmer

Cover Design: Mad Celt Designs

License Notes

Thank you for purchasing this book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed in whole or part to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes without the express written permission of the author. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy from their favorite retailer.

Thank you for your support.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, or events are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, places or events is unintentional and coincidental.

Written On Her Heart contains scenes of implied self-pleasure, strong Christian themes that clash and cause an extreme amount of tension.

Acknowledgements

I want to thank GOD. Without Him, this story wouldn’t be. I thank Him for teaching me and leading me every day.

Matthew Jackson, you are my heart and my life. Your encouragement has brought this book to life. Thank you for being my husband.

Connor, Ian, Jessa and Joseph, you are all my lights. I am happy that each of you have been placed in my life. I love you all very much.

Stephen Zimmer, thank you for editing Written On Her Heart.

John Wells, John Thomassen, Tom Proctor, Martin Lopez, and Matthias, you are always in my heart and prayers. Every single one of you mean so much, and I can’t believe you allowed me to come alongside you. I’m the one privileged to be in your lives. My gratitude and love to you all.

Authors, Bloggers, and Readers: your acceptance of who I am and what I write make you all golden in my book. I truly am thankful for each and every one of you. I hope this story will encourage and inspire you. You are the ones who will make this more than what I could ever make of it myself.

For Mom…

Chapter 1

I am a sexual woman with one regret.

Logan Stewart has been my next-door neighbor for eight years and did not understand how to cover his bathroom window. For the last several months, I’d been watching him jog around our block, stretch on his lawn, and then watched him bathe.

He’d step in front of the enormous window, and the sunshine would play upon his form. Once he’d basked in its glow, he would slide his glorious form into the steamy tub. His head would fall upon the white foam bath pillow, and his eyes would close. I admired the rise and fall of his lightly pelted chest as he sighed. He would slide his two hands into the tub, but the water wouldn’t move. I thought he might please himself before he started his day, but that wasn’t the case.

I enjoyed closing my eyes and imagined his hands on my body. In one of my favorite fantasies, I was a water droplet that could trace his form as I ran down his body. So many scenarios had played in my mind as I brought myself to completion.

My room had always been my haven from the world. No one and nothing could touch me there, and I had a respite from the world inside my blue haven. Nothing bad ever happened, and I could cocoon myself from the life I had.

But none of that was the case anymore. Regret of what I’d done slams into me every time I glance out my bedroom window. I’m greeted now with an alabaster window blind and a scarlet curtain covering Logan’s bathroom window. No more watching Logan after his morning jog.

Frustration moves through my veins. Watching him used to be my favorite pastime, but now I can’t take part in what I liked. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. I still had my toy box, but not the inspiration to use the items inside. Well, not in the way I had before. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t want to fantasize about Logan’s body.

Since he had introduced himself to me, told me he was the Associate Pastor of Encounter Lighthouse Church, and he loved me unconditionally, I didn’t want to imagine his naked form. When my mind wandered to the thought of him naked, I felt a derailing in my mind. It was like I wasn’t supposed to think of him without clothes on. A giant block had been placed in my mind, one that made the illicit thought of Logan Stewart too wrong to even comprehend.

Great. Now what am I supposed to do?

I drop my curtain, blocking out the sight of Logan’s home. The room-darkening curtains dim the atmosphere, and I am bereft. If I couldn’t bring myself to the same heights without imagining Logan’s form, could I do it another way?

I pull out my toy box and set it down on my bed. The weighted blanket barely moves as it settles, and I reach for the lid.

You don’t need that anymore. The soothing voice caresses my mind, and a small sense of trust washes over me.

I stop the hand reaching for the lid and immediately come to attention. When this voice spoke, I felt an almost overwhelming need to listen. I don’t need the toys anymore? Why?

My nerves are on edge, and I want to start the day completely relaxed. I want to walk out the front door happy and at peace with everything and everyone around me. This is what I’ve always done, and I knew the toys would do what I need.

Read My word.

His word? I draw the hand back to my side. Like, The Holy Bible, My word? How was that supposed to help me relax and find peace?

Yeah, thanks a lot, God, but no thanks.

I reach again for the lid of the toy box and appreciate the smoothness under my fingertips. With a simple flick of my wrist, I can pop the lid and reveal the treasures inside. I turn my hand over and curl the fingers.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Seriously? I glance to the ceiling of my room.

Was that you, God?

Why now was He taking the time to bother me? Where was He for so many years that I needed Him and He wasn’t there? Now He wants my attention?

Well, I want to relax, okay?

I glance again to the ceiling, willing Him away. For just a little while, I want to immerse myself in a fantasy that will bring me fulfillment. Once I am done, God can have my time.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

I growl aloud in frustration. They were interrupting me time.

The robe I keep on the back of my bedroom door is slick under my hands. I’ve never had a terry or cotton robe and wish I did. The flimsy material stressed all my curves and left very little to the imagination. It was also short, reaching my thick mid-thighs. I belt it as I grasp the front door handle. Whoever this is had better have a good excuse.

I don’t have a peephole, so I can’t see whoever graces my door at seven-thirty in the morning. After unlocking the door, I swing it open just a little and gasp in surprise.

Logan Stewart stands outside with a sack and two cups in a carrier. A smile on his handsome face and looking more put together than I did most days. His hair is perfect, and his clothes look as if they had just come back from the cleaners. I bet he smelled good, too.

Meanwhile, I stand slightly behind the door with a slight frown and completely disheveled. My hair hasn’t been brushed, the inherent waviness causing my hair to fly everywhere. I haven’t showered and was not prepared for company.

I try my best to mimic his smile, but don’t succeed. Morning wasn’t my favorite time, as I preferred late afternoon or early evening. Those were the moments I was really alive. Life happened before coffee, I was sure, but not for me. Coffee was one of the few things in my life I’d allowed to become a necessity.

Good morning, Logan.

Why did he have to look perfect this early in the morning? Did I miss his run? How had that happened? Was it when I was musing about his bathroom, blind and shiny, red curtain?

Not a morning person. Noted. He inclines his head once, the stunning smile still in place. I thought I would bring us breakfast. His glance to my partially exposed body is quick. I would say ‘good morning,’ but I’m thinking, for you that wouldn’t happen until after coffee?

I knew he was guessing, but he was right. Too right. Spot-on! Man!

Thank you for this, Pastor, really. I don’t move to take anything from him, but fidget from foot to foot, slightly exposing my frame to his gaze. I slide myself back to the door.

Logan. I thought we had settled that, after I told you I loved you. Even sealed it with a kiss. He drops his chin and his grin changes. You remember the kiss, don’t you?

My cheeks heat. Our kiss was seared into my brain, as was his declaration of love. I hadn’t gotten over either thought and want more of his kisses. I have definitive ideas of what I want in my future husband, but I know he’s probably fictional. I’d never met a man who embodied what I needed until Logan Stewart.

Logan is always respectful and self-controlled. Even after I told him I’d pleasured myself at the thought of his naked body, he was patient with me. He explained his hurt and betrayal, but still showed me love. No man in my life had ever done any of those things.

I bite my lip, trying to say something memorable and sweet. Logan needs a woman who always said and did the right thing. My next words should be perfect.

Yeah, I loudly sigh and grimace. That didn’t come out like I wanted at all. Yes! Logan! I try for a smile again. I rarely have company over for breakfast, so I’m not dressed appropriately. Nailed it. Again. Why won’t my stupid brain say the right thing?

He turns around and stands patiently.

What are you doing? I dare to step one foot out from the front door. Curiosity has the best of me, and I can’t help but wonder why he pivoted away from me.

I completed my jog early this morning and didn’t see you. I wanted to start my day with you, and I’d always done that before. I thought I’d bring you something to eat and drink before the two of us started our day.

He’s standing perfectly still, just outside my door.

You want to start your day with me? I ask, surprised. Rick Colez, my ex-fiancé, did nothing magnanimous for me. Why? The single word slipped out before I could stop it.

Because once we’re married, I intend to be the husband God wants me to be. I want to take care of you and show you the love I have in any way you need.

I drop my mouth in shock but close it quickly. We’d been neighbors for eight years, but he’d only introduced himself to me recently. How long had he been watching me when I was watching him? How did he know, for sure, he loved me? Was I his so-called love true? He’d never told me a half-truth, but he was completely honest with me. Still, my past wouldn’t let me trust him.

I appreciate the breakfast and coffee. I step back behind the door. Really. That’s very thoughtful. Should I invite him in? Um, why don’t I…

Do you have to leave right away for work? Once you’re ready, we could eat out on my back patio, he offers, remaining in place.

I glance around us at the fall colors on the trees. This is my favorite time of year and sitting outside to marvel at the hues before work sounds like a tempting idea.

It’s not what you truly want, a cackling voice interjects.

True. I glance back to my bedroom. Breakfast and coffee with Logan, or quiet time in my bedroom with my toys? I know I’d be satisfied with the toys.

Logan is what you truly need. His voice comes at me again, quietly, and with a significant amount of patience. He’s waiting for my decision. No pressure or judgment.

I peek back at Logan. Calmness radiates from his soul, and I want to bask in it. The temptation to spend time with Logan is there, but the wanting has a greater pull. I want to tell him I’d love to have breakfast with him, but I really want to relax more.

I need to be in at eight-thirty. His shoulders rise and fall. He was really wanting breakfast with me. Why did he have to be so perfect? Sorry.

That’s my girl. The gleeful tone cackles.

The Other retreats from my mind but stays close. He’s not leaving me, but I didn’t make the choice He preferred. I still felt His love, but I know I’ve not done what