Roth’s heart hammered like a construction crew. He tried to take a calming breath.
Friends, remember? But his heart had other ideas.
He opened the door to Kyanna’s lovely smile. A sweater tunic in royal blue skimmed over her curves, making her eyes sparkle like the sky. Black leggings hugged her shapely legs, and short boots finished off the ensemble.
“Hi.” Her cheeks flushed, and he realized he had been so busy checking her out, he hadn’t said anything.
He grinned. “You look great. Come on in.”
When he stepped back, she moved toward him, holding out a bottle. Wine? He squinted at the label: sparkling cider.
“You didn’t have to bring anything.”
Kyanna tilted her head. “I may not be a proper Southern lady, but I know you always bring a hostess gift.”
Ariel carried three plates into the eating area, interrupting the exchange.
“Hey, Miss Patchett.”
Their guest waved. “I think Kyanna works when we aren’t at school.” She sniffed heartily. “Smells delicious.”
Roth brushed his shoulder against Kyanna’s on his way to the kitchen. The cider felt cool beneath his sweaty palms.
Ariel frowned at the bottle. “Champagne? Are we celebrating something?”
Roth said, “Sparkling cider” at the same time Kyanna said, “Yes.”
He twisted toward her. “We’re celebrating something?”
A grin lit her features. Her shoulders relaxed, and the lines that had pinched her face during their conversation the day before were gone. The medical prognosis must be better than she expected, he realized.
His stomach bounced into his thrumming heart. He pulled the bottle against his chest.
“Dinner’s ready.” Ariel glanced between the two of them and jostled him out of her path.
“I guess I timed that right.” A gurgling laugh rushed from Kyanna’s parted lips.
Roth couldn’t tear his gaze from her face. When had such an intense desire to kiss someone stopped him in his tracks? He didn’t remember, but kissing anyone other than his daughter hadn’t been on his mind for a few years.
“You can chill that. Or serve it with ice.”
Roth glanced dumbly at the bottle. In the kitchen, he tucked it onto the bottom shelf of the refrigerator.
“Could you grab the salad and dressings?”
Ariel’s back was to him, and she wielded a knife, cutting the lasagna into precise rectangles.
Roth followed her instructions. Back at the table, he noticed Kyanna had dropped her handbag on the end table. She studied the array of photographs hanging on the wall above the couch.
“Ariel was a cute one.” She glanced his way. “You look better with a beard.”
When she turned back to the pictures, Roth’s fingers touched the well-trimmed hair covering his chin. Muriel hadn’t liked facial hair, but it had been mostly laziness on his part that compelled him to let it grow.
Ariel carried the lasagna to the table. After placing it on the trivet in the center, she slapped the potholders together and joined Kyanna by the photos.
“That’s my mom.” She pointed.
Kyanna glanced at Ariel. “You have the same hair and eyes.”
“So I’ve heard.” She groaned. “A million times.”
Kyanna swiveled toward his daughter. “Your mother was beautiful, so you should feel complimented when people tell you that.”
Ariel shrugged. “It would be nice to be seen for me instead.”
Roth’s stomach plunged to his feet. The hurt in her tone squeezed the air from his lungs. In the past few years, they hadn’t really talked about Muriel, but he’d often said how much Ariel reminded him of her. More bad parenting?
Kyanna tapped her hip to Ariel’s and grinned. “Oh, I see you for the gifted artist you are.”
Ariel’s cheeks flushed. She rushed back into the kitchen.
Kyanna raised her eyebrows at the retreating figure, but her smile remained. The pressure in his chest faded.
“Can I help with that?”
He realized he was still holding the salad bowl and dressings. Before he responded, Kyanna took the dressings from him. Their fingers connected, and the familiar bolt of electricity crackled up his arm and into his fidgeting heart.
She jerked back. “Static electricity.”
Roth smiled. “Attraction.”
Her face flushed, and she glanced away.
“I felt the same thing the day we met. In your office.”
Kyanna set the dressing bottles on the table, and he placed the salad beside them, leaning forward to do so. A soft flowery scent mingled with the Italian spice of the marinara sauce.
“Where should I sit?”
“There is fine.” He pointed to the chair beside her hip.
Ariel rushed in with a basket, bringing the delicious aroma of garlic with her. She glanced around the table with lowered eyebrows as she set down the toast.
“That’s everything.”
“My mouth is watering.” Kyanna glanced between Roth and Ariel. “I thought your dad was cooking for me.”
Roth collided with Ariel trying to reach the seat beside Kyanna. He stepped back and held his daughter’s chair to cover the gaffe.
“I made the marinara.” Roth seated himself. “And we both put the lasagna together.”
“But the salad, toast, and dessert are all mine.” Ariel grinned. “Dig in.”
After they filled their plates, Roth sat back.
“You had good news to share.”
Ariel grunted, mouth full of salad. Kyanna chewed and nodded. Roth held his fork, stomach tightening.
“The doctor called right after I saw you yesterday.”
Ariel’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her hair. “You saw each other yesterday.” She glared at him. “Dad?”
“I was at the hospital for a test.” Kyanna set her fork beside her salad. “Feeling nervous about the MRI and other test results.”
Ariel squinted at Roth and returned her attention to her food. Roth gazed at Kyanna, his heart constricting.
“The doctor had the results of the biopsy?”
“Doesn’t that mean cancer?” Ariel’s fork clattered onto the table, and she stared at Kyanna with saucer-like eyes.
“Not in my case. The test came back clear, and the craziest thing…” Her eyes glowed, blue as the heart of a flame. “The MRI didn’t show a lump at all. It was gone.”
Her gaze flicked between the two of them. Roth’s heart skittered for a moment until his stomach arched into it.
“Weird.” Ariel stared hard at Kyanna.
“A miracle,” Kyanna said.
Ariel’s chair scraped back. “Then we should celebrate. I’ll get that fake champagne.”
A heaviness he hadn’t realized lifted from his chest. As Ariel ducked into the kitchen, Roth stood and tugged on Kyanna’s shoulder. She craned her neck to stare at him, finally scooting her chair back and standing. With his stocking feet and her heels, the top of her head reached his nose.
He rested his hands on her shoulders, staring as she tilted her face up. Her blue eyes gazed into his brown. His heart urged him closer as the dream replayed in his mind.
“No cancer.” The whisper sounded husky, more appropriate for a private moment than the dinner table.
She shook her head, her gaze flicking to his mouth and back to his eyes.
“Just kiss her already.” Ariel’s voice cut through the tension. “Dinner’s getting cold.”
Roth started, but when he turned to glare at his daughter, slamming cupboards announced her return to the kitchen.
Kyanna closed the space between them. Roth brushed his lips against hers. Eyelashes fluttered across his cheekbones, and he closed his eyes.
Her soft lips caressed his, and her sigh wrenched his heart into overdrive until his ribs ached from the battering.
“So I guess this means you’re dating,” Ariel called from the kitchen. Her
tone implied that was the best idea ever.
“I guess so.” Kyanna’s whisper feathered across his mouth.
He ducked his head and tasted her again. Sweet and soft. He’d forgotten how delicious a kiss could be.
“Can I come back?” Ariel giggled. “I have bubbly liquid for a toast.”
Kyanna’s fingers stroked his jaw. The blue depths of her eyes promised compassion to sweeten the kisses. Roth cleared his throat and held her chair, scooting it closer to the table before returning to his seat.
Ariel sashayed in with three goblets in one hand and the open bottle in the other. Roth took two glasses and watched his daughter pour the honey-colored cider into the third. She chatted about the cider mill and how they should check it out.
Homey scents surrounded him. Ariel’s relaxed posture encouraged him. And, after many lonely years, a beautiful woman sat at his side, ready to help him be the man he wanted to be.
They raised their glasses together in honor of good health. A portent of hope swirled into his stomach with the fizzing drink. For the first time in longer than he could remember, Roth felt something other than failure and frustration.
“Delicious.” Kyanna dabbed at her lips with a napkin.
He nodded, remembering the flavor of her mouth.
“Do you think they make sparkling cider at the cider mill?” Ariel sliced her lump of lasagna with the side of her fork.
“We’ll find out when we visit.” Kyanna glanced his way and nodded with a slight drop of her chin.
Lightheaded, Roth’s fingers tightened on the stemware, overwhelmed by how her presence completed their family. The future didn’t seem as dim.
A prayer of gratitude formed in his heart. Didn’t the Bible say God was the source of love?
Thank you for bringing Kyanna into our life.
“To the future.” He raised his glass again.
Ariel and Kyanna echoed his proclamation and tapped their goblets to his.
Problems and trials would come, but he wouldn’t have to face them alone. With love at his side, he might even win a few battles.
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What’s Next?
Read the first chapter of LOVE’S LINGERING DOUBTS, book 9 of the FIRST STREET CHURCH expanded world…
Jazlyn Rolle snuck into the hallway at oh-dark-thirty. She tiptoed on stocking feet toward the light her mother left burning in the kitchen. A few more feet and she’d be home free.
The crackling of a newspaper broke the silence, and every muscle tensed.
“Why are you sneaking around like a teenager?” Her father’s voice dripped disapproval.
Her spine stiffened, snapping her into the military attention stance as if he was her commanding officer.
She forced herself to relax and lifted the running shoes she carried. “Didn’t want to wake anyone up.”
More like trying to get out of the house before he was awake.
He grunted. “Are you sending your application to UT? It’s not too late to finish your degree.”
She turned the water faucet on full pressure, hoping the splashing in the sink would convince him she hadn’t heard. Because what could she say?
I don’t know what to do with my life now?
After chugging two glasses of water, Jaz sat in the nook and slipped into her running shoes. She jerked a wave in her father’s direction and hustled toward the door.
Outside, the powerful smell of her mother’s petunias greeted her. She breathed deeply and crammed one ear bud in, cranking her running playlist.
Her feet set an easy pace and headed away from Sweet Grove. Only three days back in her hometown and her spirit craved its independence.
Any chance you can help me get a job? Making demands of God when she hadn’t exactly been paying attention to him the last few years wasn’t fair.
What was?
She inhaled and exhaled, focusing on the sound of the air entering and exiting her throat and lungs. Her sneakers pounded a hypnotic tempo against the asphalt. The familiar rhythm carried her into the runner’s zone she craved.
When her feet slid on loose gravel, her mind slammed back to reality.
The rising sun stretched her shadow to the curve in the packed dirt road. She breathed in a hint of dust along with the tickle of farm fresh manure. Sage shrouded a barbed-wire fence on her left. Pungent juniper bit into her nose, smelling like a litter box that needed changing.
Sweat tickled above her brow, and she backhanded it away. She checked the fitness tracker on her left wrist. Nearly seven and she’d gone more than three miles. If she turned around, she would get home before her father left. She’d rather swallow a cockroach.
Long grass lining the road’s shoulder rustled. A jackrabbit leaped into the road. Jaz stumbled as it dodged her. Her heart jackhammered and her steps faltered.
An instant later, a brown and white dog burst from the scrub a yard behind her. Its pink tongue lolled to the side, but nothing slowed its pursuit.
Jaz shortened her stride. Typical Sweet Grove. The traffic included wildlife rather than automobiles.
The dog scrambled down the berm on the opposite side of the road. Before disappearing, it stumbled tail over nose with a yelp of agony that shivered up her sweat-coated spine.
Jaz slowed, already past the dog’s crashing point. She couldn’t even run in the middle of nowhere without something interfering. She paused her music and glanced toward the ditch. Nothing.
Her finger hovered over the play button when she heard a whimper. She sighed, scraping more sweat from her brow. Only a jerk could ignore an injured dog.
Jaz plodded to the edge of the road. The furry pile lay near the white rail fence. An obstacle course of gopher holes had tripped up the poor animal.
Jaz squatted a few feet from the dog. “Good boy,” she crooned without thinking.
Another whine pulled her intestines like taffy. She extended her fingers toward his nose, slow and steady, and he barely snuffled them before letting out another pitiful cry.
“Gopher hole get you?” She spoke quietly, scanning his body for signs of injury.
The dog rolled his eyes at her. The brown pools begged for help. Jaz edged closer, hands grazing gently over the long hair. When she smoothed across his hind leg, a yip startled her. The lolling tongue flapped toward the injured area and coated her hand with spittle.
Jaz huffed out air. So much for a quiet morning run.
She knelt in the grass, wincing when her knee found a sharp rock. She cooed and slid her arms under the dog. If anything was broken, moving him might make it worse, but the dog didn’t make a sound.
As she rocked back, rolling the pup against her chest, a warm tongue swathed her chin. Ugh. Dog kisses. But then again, she was a walking salt block.
With a grunt, she stood and staggered to the top of the ditch, glancing in both directions. Further along the road she noticed an iron gateway. The steer head emblem in the center had nearly rusted loose, and the double-bar T brand beneath it shook like a leaf in a windstorm.
May as well ask at that house. Her brain sifted old memories for the owner of the brand while her feet carried her beneath the arch and down a rutted driveway.
A fence, paint flaking, lined one side while a collection of fruit and nut trees speckled the grass on the other. It didn’t look much like a working ranch to her. Who had she gone to school with that lived out here?
She was still trying to work it out when a horse snorted off to her left. Her steps slowed. After all, she was trespassing, and that could be a shoot-first-ask-later offense in small town Texas.
Jaz stopped and squinted toward the rising sun. A saddled horse on the far side of the corral swiveled its head in her direction. The cowboy kneeling at the horse’s feet stood. Broad shoulders tapered into a trim waist and long legs kept her gaze dropping all the way to the heels of dusty cowboy boots.
She opened her mouth to c
all out at the same moment he twisted toward her, but the word petered on her lips.
“Hey.” The stranger jogged toward her, bent arms flexing firm biceps. Jaz stumbled away from the fence. With his face in shadow, she couldn’t decide if he was angry or concerned.
Her experience with men advised her to back away and keep her guard up.
“Poppet?” His rough voice matched his ruggedness.
The dog rolled its eyes toward the cowboy and whined.
A moment later, the tall stranger vaulted over the fence and landed a foot away from them. Jaz stumbled back another step, nearly turning her ankle in a rut.
“What happened?”
He stepped closer, and Jaz could finally make out his features. Heavy eyebrows peeked from beneath the hat’s brim. His face had high cheekbones and a shapely jaw covered in yesterday’s whiskers. Her heart leapt to attention.
Jaz cleared her parched throat. “She was chasing a rabbit and caught her foot in a gopher hole.”
“Silly girl.” His work-roughened hands smoothed over the dog’s head, and she licked his dusty fingers.
The scent of hay, fresh-cut grass, and salt accompanied him into her space bubble. Jaz stared into his face, trying to place him. He didn’t look much older than she was, so they probably went to school together. In Sweet Grove, everyone knew everyone.
It was one of the things she’d been glad to escape from ten years ago when she left for college.
“Let me take her.” He stepped closer, hesitating for a fraction of an instant before jostling his arms beneath hers. Firm muscles scraped along her damp arms. A platoon of shivers marched across her skin and down her spine.
Then he stepped back, and her empty arms dropped to her sides. She tugged at the hem of her shorts, aware they’d ridden up during the dog rescue.
The cowboy trod toward the buildings. Shadows danced in the breezeway between a flaking red barn and a workshop. Jaz trailed after him, trying not to notice the swagger of those muscular shoulders or the way his Wrangler’s hugged his backside.
“Do you think…Poppet needs a vet?”
He stopped beside a rusty truck. “Would you open this?”
Love's Late Arrival (Sweet Grove Romance Book 1; First Street Church #8) Page 9