Love in the WINGS (11 page)

“It's over.” Pia spoke softly, and then louder, allowing the same joy Aria was experiencing to add a delighted lilt to her voice. “It. Is.
Over!
”

Tears raced down Aria's face and into her smile. She'd never enjoyed the taste of salt quite so much. Pia grabbed her in a hug so tight she couldn't breathe…and that was welcome too.

“Let's go check on our fellas.” Pia released her from the hug, and then took her hand and dragged her toward the door. “I have a feeling they've seen the Sonshine, as well.”

Aria heard the double use of the word Sonshine, and it gave her yet another thrill. Neither did the other woman's automatic assumption that Corbin was her “fella” bother Aria in the least. Maybe he was, and maybe he didn't know it yet.

One more maybe suggested she find a way to make sure he did.

 

****

 

Aria reached her desk mere seconds before Corbin came out of the pastor's study. Pia slid through the door behind him, wiggling her fingers at Aria, and still wearing the ecstatic grin that had come in on the wings of the Sonshine. Aria sent her friend a smile and a thumbs-up, even as she hurried to intercept Corbin before he reached his own office.

She needn't have worried. He met her halfway, wearing a smile that rivaled her own.

Aria stopped and narrowed her eyes, studying his glowing expression. “Happy” didn't even touch it. Corbin seemed to actually be
wearing
Sonshine.

“I'm going to go a little wild here, and guess your meeting with Pastor went well.” She forced herself to resist touching him—his arms, his hands, his face, his hair. “You've got a classic cat-that-ate-the-canary smirk going on.”

Corbin's grin grew even broader. Without the slightest warning, he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the floor, twirling her in a circle before setting her down. Even then, he didn't release her.

“Aria, you'll never believe what happened in that room.”

She couldn't help grinning. With his eyes as round as small saucers and shining like that, he looked like a kid in a candy store. “You might be surprised what I'll believe,” she countered.

He paused, and then nodded slowly. “I probably would. And I know you'll be surprised at what I believe.”

Aria's heart slammed against her chest, and she wondered if it might be making an effort to launch itself into Corbin's arms. Could he possibly be talking about—?

“Angels!” Clearly unable to wait for her to guess, Corbin blurted the word. “I've seen one, Aria. Spoken to him. Twice.”

“Oh, Corbin.” Aria choked up, and tried to swallow the ridiculous lump in her throat. Tried again. And finally, she could speak. “I can't tell you how happy that makes me.”

“Me too.” He nodded and tugged her further into his arms.

Aria had no intention of pulling away. She nestled close to his chest and thrilled to the sound of his heartbeat against her ear.

He held her. Just held her, rocked her in his arms and rocked her world. Saying nothing…and saying everything.

At last, he bent his head to plant a feathery kiss just at the edge of her lips, sending a fiery blast of heat from there to her toes in the space of a rapid heartbeat. “I have so many things I want to say to you, sweet songbird.”

She lifted her misty gaze to his. “And I want to hear them. All of them. But first…” She reluctant pulled away and took his hand. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

“Where are we going?” The question seemed irrelevant, since he allowed her to lead him across the room with not even a hint of resistance.

“Outside.”

Aria hadn't been outside herself since she arrived at work, and yet she knew what they'd find. Would Corbin see it?

She caught her breath as they stepped out the door and into…beautiful sunshine. And a gentle breeze that brushed her skin like an angel's touch.

Corbin stopped cold and looked around as if not sure where he was. Then he closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun. “Now
this
is how a nice, pleasant spring day is supposed to feel.” His voice was low and soft, but Aria heard every word.

“Yes. It is.” She shook her head and blew out a breath. “All that heaviness, that oppressing weight is gone. Just gone. And you know, I'm pretty sure our spiritual warfare is over—well, at least for this time around.”

“And I'm pretty sure you're right.”

Corbin still held her hand in his. Now he used it to pull her close again and then tilted her chin up with his forefinger, forcing her to look at his face, despite the overwhelming shyness that suddenly washed in, around and through Aria's being.

“What am I saying? Of course you're right. You've been right all along, about everything.”

“I have?” Aria couldn't think of anything half intelligent to say. “Well. I guess there's a first time for everything.”

“I guess there is.” Corbin touched his lips to her temples, and then trailed a burning path of soft kisses down her face to her lips. He paused there, and Aria's legs nearly buckled. Did this guy have even the slightest idea what he was doing to her?

“Aria…sweet Aria!” His words did nothing to alleviate the raw emotion his touch had elicited. “Let's vow to always remember that we were standing right here under this dogwood tree next to The Falls Tabernacle the first time I said, ‘I love you, Aria Robbins, my beautiful, beautiful songbird.'”

“You—” She stopped and cleared her throat. “Did you—?”

He touched a finger to her lips and held it there.

A sudden, unexpected timidity stole her voice, and she dropped her gaze.

“Look at me.” His husky voice sent tremors through every nerve in her body. “Please…I want to see those beautiful eyes.”

With great effort, she raised her gaze to his. Smiling, he removed his finger from her lips and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I said, ‘I love you,' sweetheart. Shall I say it again?”

She heard the teasing note in his voice, but she nodded anyway. “Yes. Please. Say it again.”

He chuckled. “I love you, Aria.” A soft kiss burned fire into her cheek. He trailed the flame downward, and she felt the warmth of his breath against her lips. “With all that I am, I love you, my sweet songbird.”

“Ohhh.” She breathed the single word with effort. “Are you going to kiss me, Corbin Bishop?”

“No.”

“
What
?” She cleared her throat, determined not to squeak like that again. “Why not?”

“Well, because…you haven't said it yet.”

“I haven't said—oh!” She smiled despite that persistent shyness. “I love you, too. I do. And I hope you like hearing it because I plan to say so a lot.”

“I can live with that.” He smiled and placed a hand on each side of her face.

“Are you going to kiss me
now
, Corbin Bishop?”

“Do you want me to kiss you now, sweetheart?”

Aria rolled her eyes, threw shyness to the winds, and reached up to remove his hands from her face. She slid her own up his chest, over his shoulders, and around to the back of his head. Gently, she pulled his face closer to her own, her lips tingling with anticipation.

“Yes. I want you to kiss me…
now
, please.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

One more smile, one feathery touch of his fingers against her cheek. Then Corbin gently, sweetly, and yet with forceful certainty, brushed his lips against hers. Just a touch at first—a soft, sliding pressure, and then with a bold decisiveness that left no room for doubt in her mind.

This annoying guy from the big, fancy city…this frustrating youth minister who wouldn't stick to his own ministry and leave hers alone…this sweet, handsome,
absolutely wonderful
man truly, without a doubt, with all his heart…
loved
her.

Aria's heart leapt high in a dance of joy. If she had doubted her feelings before, Corbin's kiss erased all questions. She loved him too.

From this kiss forward. For always. Forever.

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

In a small alcove off the platform area in the church, Corbin enjoyed the benefit of watching the crowd unobserved through a darkened pane of one-way glass. So far, the Easter program had been amazing and anointed, and despite the large number of visitors, none of the regular church members seemed inclined to hold back. Instead, the congregation had entered into the spirit of praise and worship almost as one. As a result, the presence of the Holy Ghost saturated the atmosphere.

Even during the Easter play, the power of God had moved through the room, touching some people to weep, others to raise their hands and their hearts heavenward as they breathed grateful prayers to the risen Savior.

This is what it's all about. The sweet peace of Christ...the power and passion that comes with complete surrender to His will
.
Of course, it helps that some of these people—the WINGS members, at least—are aware that we've just won a major warfare with evil.

Corbin drew a deep breath, tired despite his love of life at the moment. The culmination of last week's emotional and spiritual rollercoaster had sent him on a euphoric adrenalin rush. He'd experienced a lot in a short period of time. How often, in the space of a single week, did a guy have his dark, shameful secret outed to the woman of his dreams, come face to face with an angel, watch a real life battle between good and evil, help pray his town and his church through a threat most of the church members weren't even aware existed, allow his voice to be used as an instrument for God to speak to a dangerously depressed minister,
and
fall in love?

The aftermath of it all had left him bone weary—almost physically aching, as if the battle had been fought with a flesh-and-bone enemy. Somehow, he thought that might have been easier.

His attention was drawn back to the praise team as their volume swelled in preparation for the last, lingering note of “He is Risen! Risen Indeed!” Led by a beautiful, dynamic woman with hair like a high-desert sunset and a voice that surely made the angels stop to listen, the group of ministry singers threw every ounce of themselves into making the song come alive, and Corbin's breath caught in his throat at the riveting result.

Jesus Christ the Lord of glory, He is risen…indeed!

As the last, lingering note of the powerful song faded, Pastor David walked slowly to the pulpit and took a moment to let his gaze travel the small sea of faces, all focused squarely on him. He started to speak, and then stopped, obviously too choked to continue. Tears traced a jagged path down his face, and a quick peek out the dark window told Corbin the pastor was not the only one overcome with emotion on this Easter morning. Half the congregation held tissues or handkerchiefs to their eyes.

He turned back toward the pulpit just in time to see David hold out his hand toward Pia, who sat as she always did, in the first row, where she encouraged her husband with frequent loving smiles and softly spoken amens. Corbin had never seen her on the platform, and she looked less than thrilled about having to approach it this morning. Nevertheless, she rose from her seat to join the pastor behind the podium.

David wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side. “Our visitors may not know that this lovely woman is my wife, Pia. I thought I'd set that straight before any seed of gossip can possibly take root.”

A low murmur of laughter swept the room, and Pia's olive complexion deepened just enough for Corbin to recognize her embarrassment. To his credit, David did not play on it, but moved on, drawing attention away from his wife.

“Before I get into my message, I have something to say to all of you.” He choked up again, and paused to gain control of his voice, and Pia's slender arm slid around his waist. “As you all know, we recently lost my uncle and dear friend, Andrew Hart, who received an invitation he couldn't turn down and headed off to Glory.”

Corbin sneaked a quick glance at Viv, who sat in the same pew she'd shared with her husband. Her brother, Lance Dalton, sat with her, one arm draped loosely around her shoulders. Beside him, Viv's friend Madison also lent her support. Tears dampened the widow's cheeks, but a smile lit her face, and Corbin knew that eventually Viv would be all right. She possessed a quiet peace that shone from her eyes, and she was blessed with good friends and loving family to help her through.

“We'll miss Uncle Andy,” David continued, and Corbin returned his attention to the pastor. “But we rejoice in knowing we will see him again. And who knows? That day could come tomorrow. But for however long it is, Andrew Hart will be missed. This old world is a sadder place without him.”

He cleared his throat, looked down at his notes, then up again. “What most of you do not know is that my uncle's death triggered a spiritual battle in my own life. I won't go into the details, but I will admit that it was intense. Now that I'm coming out the other side of the valley, I know that I was not fighting alone, and that the battle was not all about me.” A little smile touched his lips. “Funny, isn't it, how Satan always blinds us to that fact when we're in the line of fire? This church and the town itself were also under attack, but God provided a warning in advance, and my wife put together a wonderful, powerful group of prayer warriors to help fight off the enemy. Pia calls them Prayer ‘WINGS'—a very fitting acronym for Warriors in God's Service. I want to extend a special thank you to everyone who was involved in that round-the-clock spiritual stand-off. It was all of you who pulled the church, this town, and me out of the fire. I love you all, and thank God for you every moment.”

A round of applause interrupted David's heartfelt words, and Pia reached up to touch his face. The pastor smiled into his wife's misty eyes, and then raised his gaze again to the congregation.