James Series Chapter 17 For the second day in a row, I came home weary, wounded, and tired. Only this time, instead of heading back out to church, I was sinking in my tub filled with baby blue bubbles. I love the ocean, and anything that remotely reminds me of saltwater and sea breezes is usually enough to carry me away. Usually. Tonight, with Roman locked away in his room in silence, and my brain, heart, and head hurting, the ocean-scented bath bubbles reminded me only of the man who had bumped into me the night before. Brother Scott. He had smelled like sweet escape. Lying back on my bath pillow with my eyes closed, I thought of the bubbles that had zinged up in my stomach the moment I looked into his face. RiChard. Of course no one would ever compare to him. . . . Somewhere, somehow, not surprisingly, my bath stopped being relaxing. I pulled on my pajamas and tucked myself into my granny robe. Yeah, I looked like a little old woman with my floral-printed gingham ensemble, but who really cared?
