Baptized

By Suzanne D. Williams

Maybe that was love – the missing each other – then eventually you got to the point you couldn't do it anymore.

 

Penn Saunders hit rock bottom two years ago when a nameless girl he'd partied with died in his bed. He changed that night. He returned home to live with his parents, get clean, and embrace God again. As a pastor's son, renewing his faith also reaffirms his call into the ministry. But he has a long way to go before he gets there, and his first step is living on his own.

 

Morgan Gant thought she left her old life behind by moving hundreds of miles away. She's starting over, building a successful online cosmetics business, and renting her own apartment. No one here will know what she did for a living, but most of all, she'll never have to see the man who attacked her again.

 

Meeting Penn, the neighbor across the hall, seems like another positive step. She needs to make friends and who better than the guy next door? Yet, when their feelings for each other grow, what they haven't said, who he is as a Christian, clashes with the secret of what she's survived, threatening, once more, to tear their lives apart.

 

Clean, Christian romance by best-selling author, SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS. A novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suzanne D. Williams
• Release date: May 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201592653

Suzanne D. Williams

Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography, as well as devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE. To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalogue of stories, visit http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com/ or link with her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor.

Book preview

SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS

www.feelgoodromance.com

© 2016 BAPTIZED by Suzanne D. Williams

www.feelgoodromance.com

www.suzannedwilliams.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

From The Author

About The Author

CHAPTER 1

She stared, lips pursed, at the drops bubbling up around the base of the faucet and blew out a frustrated breath. That’s what you get for not taking the place on Sixth Street.

She taken this one on Hemlock, instead, thinking to save some cash, which might turn out to be as risky as the name implied. Already, she’d found a wall socket with no plastic cover, a door with a loose knob, and, running her fingertips around the faucet, now, a leaky kitchen sink. She’d have to call the super.

No time like the present. Her mind made up, she paced across the tiny living space and yanked open the door, her flip-flops making a regular snap-pop on the tile.

However, her eyes on the stairwell, her mind on what she needed to say, she didn’t see the man that emerged across the hall and so barreled into him with an oomph.

He caught hold of her shoulders with both hands. Whoa, there, Speedy.

Embarrassment heated her cheeks.

He was her age, give or take a year, pushing six feet tall with short brown hair and pale blue eyes. He was also in good shape, a canary yellow t-shirt clinging tight to firm muscles, khaki shorts settled low on toned hips.

You must be the new tenant. He released her, but made no effort to put any distance between them. Penn Saunders.

The earthy scent of male cologne tickling her nostrils, she offered a faltering smile. Morgan Gant. Sorry for not seeing you. I had my mind on finding the super.

His eyebrows rose. Already?

Stepping back, she wrapped one arm across her chest, clasping her hand on her opposite shoulder. She bobbed her head. Unfortunately. A couple problems I can live with, but the kitchen faucet leaks.

Oh, is that all? Well, I happen to be an expert at these kinds of things and for the small price of you agreeing to dinner with me, I’ll be glad to fix it.

Morgan hesitated, her recent past rising forefront in her thinking. He’d meant his invitation harmlessly enough, she thought, given his hopeful expression, and, obviously, had no way of knowing about anything that had happened to her. Yet, that same smothery-suffocating feeling cloaked her mind, and she trembled.

His forehead tightened. Just pizza if you like. I didn’t mean to frighten you.

She worked her lips into weak smile. You didn’t ... and I appreciate the offer. If you don’t mind looking at it ...

His lips curved, his face brightening. Not a problem. Seriously. Just let me get my tools.

He was a number of minutes inside his apartment, returning with a dinged, silver tool box in one hand. She slipped back in her own, waving him toward the kitchen, and he halted in front of the beleaguered faucet.

Easy enough, he said. It appears to need a new seal. I think I have one in my box of tricks.

Placing his toolbox on the counter, he unlocked the clasp and dug through the contents. He glanced over his shoulder a pipe wrench in his hand. We’re going to have to turn the water off. Otherwise, we’ll also need a mop.

She dipped her chin. Sure. Whatever.

Do you have a bucket or a garbage can?

Thinking on that, she fetched the small plastic can from the bathroom and extended it to him. He set to work, ducking beneath the counter and unfastening the spout. Twenty minutes later, he’d replaced the part and reassembled the unit. Spinning the shut off valve back on, he flipped the faucet lever upwards and glanced her way. Water gurgled into the sink basin.

All better now.

Morgan approached, halting at his side. She opened her mouth, meaning to express her gratitude, but started at his wink. P-pizza, she stuttered, suddenly scatterbrained. I’ll ... go order ... if ... if you want. You ... have a favorite flavor?

Anything’s good, except anchovies, he replied.

With a nod, she scooted down the short hallway for her cell. But, seated on her bed, the device in her hand, didn’t dial for the slamming of her heart in her chest.

She was being ridiculous. She needed to know someone in this town, and what better person was there than her next door neighbor? There was no reason to believe the horribleness she’d left behind had followed her here. In fact, Penn was probably the exact opposite. Already, he’d done one kind act. She really had to let her fears go.

Making the vow and following through, however, were two different things, and took longer than she’d planned. But finally, the phone to her ear, she made the order. She hung up and wiped her fingers on the leg of her jeans, in her head repeating words of encouragement. She was safe here. No one back home except her parents knew where she’d gone. If only she could make herself believe that.

You okay? Penn called from the living room.

Pushing to her feet, Morgan made her way back down the hall. Pizza’s ordered, she said, not responding to his question. It’ll be here in fifteen. Maybe while we wait, we can go out on the balcony. Because she needed air, to see the city surrounded her and remind herself there was a new beginning here.

You have a balcony? Penn asked.

Distracted, Morgan wrinkled her brow. You don’t?

He shook his head. Just a view of a brick wall and really nice spray-can art of what I think are a girl’s breasts.

Morgan’s gaze spun wide.

Penn leaned his elbows on the iron railing, his gaze on the landscape below, and did his best not to look at Morgan standing on his left. She was nervous, though he had the feeling it wasn’t because of anything he’d done. Whyever and whatever caused it were really none of his business, but he could do his best to allay her concern and give her some distance.

Down below, a row of evenly trimmed shrubs faced a patch of green lawn and a clump of crepe myrtles, edging into bloom. Past them, a narrow walkway stretched parallel to the parking lot. An older woman in gray slacks led a poodle northward on a leash.

I’m envious, he said. Really, the boobs are well done, but nothing compared to this view.

He heard her breathy laugh and smiled to himself.

She was extremely attractive, petite, five-foot-two with jet black hair, cut in a bob, and the kind of hourglass figure that made a guy want to take hold. Being up against her in the hallway had caused his mind to swerve to a place he hadn’t been in a while. Two years ago, at age twenty-six, he’d promised himself he’d abstain from what his dad called sins of the flesh. He’d certainly done plenty of things that could be classified as that – drinking, meth, and a lot of meaningless sex. He’d stayed hopped up on something and in bed with someone almost every day of the week for most of his twenties.

The morality his dad preached, all those rules and regulations written hundreds of years ago by tortured saints, hadn’t meant anything to him at the time. Then, he’d woken up next to a girl he didn’t know and discovered sometime during the night she’d OD’d. That had sent him into a tailspin. If he kept living like he was, he could end up the same, and the thought of that, combined with mental images of his mother crying, had sent him home.

Standing on their doorstep, contrition on his face, he’d stared into the eyes that had always loved him and asked for help. His dad, true to his forgiving nature, had welcomed him with open arms, given him a job, and stood by him while he got clean. He’d stayed with them for a year before deciding to man up and move out. This tiny apartment on Hemlock Avenue had become an experiment, of sorts. Could he live alone and not fall back into his old behaviors? He thought he could. The drugs and alcohol he’d set aside for good. It was the sex he worried about. Thinking on that harder, he really had no idea how to have a relationship that didn’t end up in bed. To him, that seemed like how things were supposed to end.

Can I ... see it?

Morgan’s question brought him back to reality. You want to see my boobs?

This made her giggle. One hand curved over her mouth, she suppressed it, but the twinkle in her eyes was there, laugh lines forming around her lips. She straightened, rubbing her hands on her blouse. Yes, I want to see your boobs.

This time, he laughed. Turning in a circle, he motioned her ahead of him back inside her apartment and across the hallway to his. Glad he’d taken the time the day before to clean the place somewhat, he pretended the stuff he didn’t pick up, a soda can, his breakfast plate, weren’t actually there and tapped open his bedroom door.

She halted a good ways off, her eyes wary again.

I’ll stand here, he said, that way you can fully enjoy the view.

His statement seemed to allay her fears. She blew out a tiny breath and slipped past him, crossing to the window on the opposite side. Here, her back to him, she stared at the yellow circles on the brick wall. Her head tilted left.

It could be eggs, she said. She leaned over the sill, as if looking downward. How’d anyone put those there anyhow?

Well, I’ve asked myself that and decided it must’ve been the previous tenant. Either that, or the Jolly Green Giant on a wild night out. Who knew he had a thing for boobs?

She turned around to face him, her hands clasped at her waist, her fingers woven together. She looked incredibly fragile, as if she couldn’t let go of herself without collapsing, and it hit him. Perhaps, her life wasn’t that different from his and she struggled with something. Maybe it was because of a guy. Looking at her behavior, probably it was. That’d explain her uneasiness around him. But hurting a woman was the last thing he’d ever do. He’d been more into hurting himself.

I hear a voice in the hall, Penn said. I’ll bet it’s the pizza. Why don’t we go back to your place and find us a spot on the balcony? I might have to borrow it once in a while, just to pretend I have the nicer apartment.

She smiled, gratitude written clearly on her brow, and he reversed, giving her time and space to emerge.

The pizza boy, a seventeen year old with a giant pimple square on the tip of his nose, gazed open-mouthed at them both. You Morgan Gant? he asked

She nodded and pushed past him. Let me get my purse.

Penn reached for her, curling his fingers lightly over her arm. Pulled short, she gazed down at his hand.

I’ll take care of it, he said. Maybe you can pour us something to drink ... water, soda, anything’s fine, so long as it doesn’t give me a buzz.

She pursed her lips and nodded. Penn dug out his wallet. How much?

Eighteen.

Penn handed him a twenty and a five. Keep the change.

Dabbing her lips with a paper napkin, Morgan leaned back against the sun-warmed wall, her gaze forward at the sky, but her peripheral vision focused on Penn’s face. He’d figured out something was wrong with her, but been nice enough to not ask what. Taking that even further, he’d gone out of his way to make her feel comfortable. This made her curious.

So what do you do? she asked.

He turned his head.

He’d grown more attractive in the last hour, and she was unsure if that was because of his kind mannerism or her insecurity about herself. Moving here hadn’t ever been in her plans for her life. But then, her plans hadn’t consisted of much until recently. A series of bad decisions at a young age found her dancing at night club minus her top.

She’d wanted to get out of the business for a long time, but that’d proven hard to do. A series of lucky circumstances had changed her fortunes and given her hope it was possible. She’d told herself she’d work nights for a little while longer, then quit and dedicate herself to her new interest full time. The two a.m. attack by a drunken customer had sped up her plans. Nursing a boatload of fear, she’d packed up and moved out, almost overnight.

I work for my dad, Penn replied, breaking into her thoughts. Pointless, mundane paperwork, but it helps him and pays my bills. You?

She worked up a smile. I work from home. I sell organic beauty products online.

Really? He seemed impressed. That’s great. Though, I bet you look great just as yourself.

Her smile wavered, but she tried to play it off. You haven’t seen me in the mornings.

He looked away, and the feeling returned, the one that said he had his own struggles. In an odd way, she’d picked up on that walking through his apartment. It was sparsely furnished, to the point of being empty. That could be a guy thing, or his personality,