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make her lower ones match, although he was smart enough not to say that to her yet.
    They had luck at a nearby middle of the road type chain restaurant, and she seemed wide-eyed over everything about it, as if it was her first visit.
    And he was thunderstruck to realize that it was her first visit.
    Over the next few dates, all of which he kept carefully sexually neutral – not trying to kiss her goodnight or goodbye, not even catching her hand in his as they walked together or wrapping his arm casually around her shoulders as he might have with another woman – he learned just how cloistered she had been.
    She had grown up homeschooled, with no television at all and even very little radio, with no access to the Internet at all. Until she’d broken with her parents’ sect, she had never cut her hair, never been alone in a room with an unmarried man, rarely been alone in a room at all, considering the size of her ten sibling family. Her entire goal in life, as her parents would pound into her, was to keep sweet – swallow down any negative emotions; marry – forever, of course, since divorce was forbidden; and have as many soldiers for Christ as she could produce before menopause hit.
    Brandt was agog; not just at the isolation, but also at how ruthlessly she was expected to suppress any need or want she had that ran counter to the party line. Women did not get angry, or cry, and were definitely not moody. She was expected to have a smile on her face and be a ‘willing servant’ to pretty much anyone – especially any man – at all times.
    And – weak vessel that she was – she hadn’t even been able to choose her own husband.
    They had been dating for several months, and every time they got together, she spent the majority of the time talking to him about what her life had been like. He seemed to be fascinated and repelled by it at the same time, although she worried she was boring him to tears.
    “You were so brave to have left. Good on you, Lita.” Brandt reached out and covered her hand, where it lay on the table, with his, squeezing gently then letting go. He should have been used to that beautiful blush by now, but it still brought a smile to his face.
    “Stop laughing at me – I can’t help it!” she said, putting her hands to her hot cheeks.
    “I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you, I hope. I don’t mean anything bad by it. Your blushes are refreshing and enchanting.”
    She knew he was shining her on, but it was thoughtful of him to say so, anyway.
     

Chapter 3
     
    “I’m sure that would describe all of your dates.”
    Brandt nearly choked on his water at that idea. “No, not really. They’re all... well, they know the score and are a bit jaded, I suppose is the best word to describe it.” It was his turn to blush. “I really haven’t been dating so much as sleeping around.”
    “Oh.” She tried not to sound disapproving, but wasn’t sure she was able to pull it off. Although she really didn’t feel judgmental towards him or the girls he’d slept with, especially since she’d begun to realize that, somewhere along the way, she had begun wishing that she were one of them.
    She’d tried to assimilate as best she could, and she thought that she’d done pretty well, considering. But she really hadn’t gone on many dates at all, and none that had ended satisfactorily, as far as she was concerned. She knew first hand that some of the men were put out that she wouldn’t... put out, as one of them had phrased it.
    As careful as she had tried to be, she’d ended up with men who expected her to be just like all the others they had ever dated – which seemed to equate to ‘slept with’, to her horror. She would never be the type to go to bed with a man on the first date. Heck, she wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to sleep with a man she wasn’t married to at all, much less barely an hour or two after having met him. But that seemed to be the rule rather than the