by Amanda Tru
Had that loss created the fissure that led to their great divide? She’d have to consider that revelation later. Right now, she owed Kent.
“I need to apologize. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. You were absolutely right. And I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
He silently nodded, then cleared his throat. “And I’m sorry for yours. Want to talk about it?”
Meeting his eyes, she shook her head. But maybe it would be good to talk. For her, release. For him, distraction. He clearly didn’t want to focus on his own emotions any further.
Besides, they’d already gone way past typical surface-level first-date topics. Why not?
She leaned back and closed her eyes. “Karalee had just turned three. Jeff said we should go for one more—girl, boy, girl, boy. But the ultrasound that proved Jeff right also revealed a defect that had already claimed his life. After what you said about fathers, I wonder if that was the real beginning of the end.”
“It’s possible. He probably felt as much at fault as you did. But men grieve differently. We’re taught not to express emotion through sorrow and tears, so we get angry, shut down, or ignore the feelings and focus on something we can fix.”
Silence settled between them. She leaned toward Kent’s body, both offering and seeking comfort. He obliged, wrapping an arm around and pulling her close.
Ada reflected on those lonely months after, when Jeff began to work more. That’d been right about when he started to push for partnership. Memories of that time now had the clarity of a new pair of glasses.
She’d put the blame squarely on Jeff at the end. No, he shouldn’t have cheated. Yes, his leaving hurt. But now that she understood the origin, compassion rolled in and began to fill the painful cracks in her memories.
“So,” she smiled against his shoulder, absently tracing the buttons of his shirt. “What should we talk about on our second date? Politics? Solving world hunger?”
Kent pulled a face and then shook his head with a grin. “I think not. Besides. That’s tomorrow. I’m sure my friends will have other things to talk about instead.”
Her head perked up. “Oh? Like what?”
“Well, for starters, they have a baby. I think she’s a couple months old now.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“Isn’t that my line?”
“Oh, my apologies, Doctor.”
“Not a doctor. I’m an LPCC. Similar catchphrases, though.” He winked, and she giggled.
“Wait. Was that a—a giggle?” Kent laughed heartily. The sound lightened the heavy cloud permeating the room. “I thought women outgrew giggling.”
“Not all of us. Some of us stay very in touch with our inner tween.”
They teased a few more moments before Kent’s expression sobered.
“Guess I am a bit nervous about tomorrow. I think it’ll be easier now that I have someone who understands by my side, though.”
Ada snuggled back in next to him. “Have you not been around many infants since losing…”
“Coden. And no. I’ve kind of avoided babies whenever I can. At least until they’re older.”
She paused to do a few quick calculations.
“So this was—what?—fifteen, sixteen years ago?”
“Sixteen.”
“I wonder…” Ada’s voice trailed for a moment. “Have you imagined him as he would be today, or have your memories kept him an infant all this time?”
Kent ran a hand over his smooth head and frowned. “In my mind, he’s always been my baby.”
“Do you think it might help if you imagined what he might have grown up like had he been born healthy? If you let him age in your mind, it might not be so hard to be around infants. I mean, nothing can erase your loss, but….”
The look he gave her almost made her laugh, if it wouldn’t have been entirely inappropriate right then. One eyebrow went way, way up like the Rock—as if the idea had never occurred to him and had now blown his mind.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re brilliant? You’d make a great counselor.”
“Ha!” She scoffed. “Didn’t this whole thing start because I blew up over you poking me out of my comfort zone tonight? Yeah. I’d make a great counselor.”
“Ha!” He scoffed. “Most people in the mental health business are screwed up as badly as the rest of the population.”
Ada sighed. This felt weird. Good, but weird. Like she and Kent had known each other forever and only a day all at once. Her heart fluttered with the anticipation of new love but stilled with the peace of stable familiarity.
All these juxtaposed emotions would wear her out if she weren’t careful.
“I think I like you, Mr. Clark.”
“I think I like you, too, Ms. Danvers.”
A thirty-five-year-old shouldn’t feel like he’d time-traveled back to adolescence just by stepping foot on the doorstep of the girl he liked.
But he did.
After the amazing—albeit intense—evening last night, Kent couldn’t help wondering what today would be like. Awkward? Hopefully not.
He raised a hand to knock and paused to lean his head against the door first.
Father, be Lord over today. Thank You that Adaline and I broke through the rough stuff quickly. Be first and foremost in whatever happens between us. Help me show her Your love. May we honor You every step of the way.
Please help me be strong, able to move forward, not hung up on what I’ve lost. I know Coden is with You and always has been.
Be with Ada’s kids today, too. Amen.
The door opened the same time his eyes did. He stumbled and quickly righted himself.
“You plan to knock or stand there all day?” Ada had one hand on the door, the other on her hip, a sassy smile lifting one corner of her lips.
A flirty Ada. Well, then.
Today might be more fun than he could’ve hoped for.
“Sorry for the holdup. You look beautiful.”
The first thing he noticed was her haircut. Yesterday’s shoulder-length hair was now cropped short like a spunky pixie. It accentuated the angles of her jawline and made him want to pull her closer and place a kiss just under her exposed ear.
Too soon, buddy.
He usually preferred longer hair, but this new cut suited her. Quite well, judging by the magnetic attraction pulling him toward her. “Love the new ‘do.”
She raised a hand to her bare neck and ducked her chin. Her eyes lifted, and he noticed her eye makeup was different too. It accentuated the greenish-gold rimming the hazel and made her lashes look long and alluring.
Kent swallowed against the desert floor his mouth had become. Had she put in the extra effort just for him? A surge of satisfaction roared through him.
“Thanks,” she replied brightly. “Helps when your closest friend is a hairdresser and a morning person—and has been pestering to give you a new look for ages.”
“Well, I like it. Um. Happy Thanksgiving.” He thrust out the small bouquet of fall flowers he’d picked up on the way over. Smooth.
Ada brought them to her nose, her eyes smiling over the top of the foliage. “Come on in while I grab my containers.”
Following her into the house, Kent was glad she seemed more relaxed today. Hopefully, the mood would continue when they got to the Bennetts’.
One of the kitchen counters was lined with rubber lidded glass baking dishes. She slid a rectangular one into a perfectly sized insulated carrier and zipped it closed. Like a dancer in a well-choreographed routine, she repeated the action with two others.
“I only recall an apple cobbler. What’s all this?”
Ada licked her lips and looked away. Resisting the urge to pull her closer and press those lips to his wasn’t easy.
“I had a hard time getting to sleep last night, so I made a vanilla ice cream base and churned it this morning.” She pointed to one of the insulated bags.
Handing him the third, she added, “This one is my fa
vorite pecan-crusted sweet potato casserole. It doesn’t feel like Thanksgiving to me without it.”
Kent’s mouth watered. “Can’t wait. What’s that one over there?” He jutted his chin toward a fourth container that hadn’t been bagged yet.
Her lips curled in, and her eyebrows slanted downward. “It’s too much, isn’t it? I always do that. Overkill. I think I’ll just leave that one here.”
Setting the bag on the granite countertop, he reached for her hand. When she finally looked him in the eye, he smiled with all the charm he could muster.
“What’s in that one, Ada?”
She licked her lips again and flicked her eyes to the container and then toward the window. “It’s, um, sliced ham.”
“Sliced ham?” There was no keeping the incredulity from his tone. Overkill, yes. But totally Ada.
“I know. Like I said, I’ll leave it here.”
“Nah, bring it. It’ll make up for the lame bag of store-bought rolls in my car. Of course,” he paused and took a step closer until they were practically torso-to-torso. She looked up with surprise, and he decided to chuck timing right out the window. “Bringing this much food and sharing the credit makes us look like a couple.”
“Is that so?” Ada’s lashes fluttered. The warmth of her whisper kicked up his pulse.
“Uh-huh. You going to be okay with that?”
“I, er, yeah.” Her lids slowly dropped, and he took it as permission to dip his mouth toward hers.
Careful not to jar the moment, Kent lightly brought his arm around her and pulled her closer, his lips moving gently. She soon responded, fervently increasing the pressure of the kiss and running her hands up his arms and around his neck.
Mmmm-more.
The still-functioning part of his brain knew it was wise to back off. If he trusted God in this, and he did, then they’d have plenty more kisses ahead of them. Carefully slowing the pace, he released her with a few short kisses on those soft, full lips.
Her lids fluttered, breaths labored, but it was the shy smile that really gave away how much that kiss had affected her.
“I’d love to suggest we stay here and enjoy our own Thanksgiving with all this,” he began, motioning to the assorted containers.
“But that wouldn’t be smart. And your friends are waiting on us,” Ada finished.
“Exactly.” Kent grasped the handles of two containers, one in each hand. “Ready to go?”
“You betcha.” Ada slipped her purse over one shoulder and grabbed the other two containers and her keys. “Though I wouldn’t say no to more of that later.”
She turned and sauntered to the door, her hips swinging confidently. Kent froze, thoroughly dumbfounded. Ada looked over her shoulder and tossed him a sassy wink as she slipped out the door.
He followed, knowing he’d do so willingly the rest of his life if she’d let him.
Oh, man. He was in deep.
Had she really just had the hands-down hottest kiss of her life, right there in her kitchen, with her younger coworker?
What in the world had gotten into her?
It must be the haircut. Nothing had changed except that since last night.
Yeah, the ice had been broken by their mutual confessions and support, but that didn’t explain the sudden sassiness she felt. She’d full-on flirted with the man from the minute she opened the door! And now she was buckled in the car next to him, about to spend the whole day together.
Ada’s fingers played with the handles of her purse until she shoved them under her thighs to stop. That only set her right leg jiggling all the way to her toe. When she managed to get that under control, her fingers itched to tap a drumbeat, and she had to fake searching through her purse just to hide her nerves.
“You’re going to chew right through your lip if you don’t give it a rest, Ada.”
Oh. She hadn’t even realized she’d been doing that, too. For the love, Adaline!
“It’ll be all right, you know. Gina and Jaydon are awesome. I mean, I don’t know Gina that well, but Jaydon’s cool. He might look intimidating, but he’s a teddy bear.”
Ada didn’t correct Kent’s assumption, but her nerves had nothing to do with spending the day with strangers and everything to do with the feelings that kiss had spawned. Or grown. She was fairly certain the feelings had begun the first time Kent had dropped by her library to “help.”
Sharing the credit makes us look like a couple. Are you okay with that? His words from before came rushing back. Ada still worried about the possible ramifications of dating a coworker, a younger man. One whose baggage was quite different from her own.
And already moving to meeting friends? It felt—well, it felt big.
Ten minutes later, the same lame, overused word was stuck in her head as the only adjective to describe Jaydon Bennett, too. Dude was big.
“Welcome, Kent. Adaline.”
His giant hand engulfed hers, and she wondered how he didn’t intimidate the youth he worked with. Idiot! That’s where she knew him from.
“You’re my kids’ youth pastor.”
Jaydon chuckled. “I am. Glad you could make it.” He glanced over his shoulder. “There’s my favorite girls!”
She mentally corrected his grammar and smiled when a tall Latina with a massive pile of hair atop her head came into view, a tiny baby nestled against her white shirt. A yellowy dribble marked her empty shoulder. This must be Gina.
The baby chewed a fist, bobbing against her mother’s shoulder. Ada wanted to laugh at the giant pink bow dwarfing a mop of curly dark hair.
“Jack, let them in, will ya?” Gina lifted to her toes and kissed Jaydon’s thickly bearded chin.
“I keep telling you, woman, my name’s not Jack.”
“And I keep telling you it’s a good thing you don’t wear flannel to go with that beard, lumberjack.”
Their affectionate banter twisted Ada’s heart, but not in the painful way she’d have expected. She chanced a look at Kent as he stepped past his humongous friend.
Kent, though, was pretty much perfect. A full head shorter, she’d experienced for herself how well his height suited hers. Perfect for—she stopped that thought in its tracks. Perfect for hugging.
Yes, hugging. No need to replay any memories of the kitchen.
“I’m Gina, by the way, which I suppose you already figured out. This little punkin is Cady.”
“Good to meet you.” Ada followed Gina into a nicely remodeled kitchen—too modern to be original if the neighborhood was any indicator of the home’s age. “Where should I set the food we brought?”
We. Had a nice ring to it.
Gina pointed to the island and grabbed a wad of fabric from a diaper bag perched on a barstool. She flipped it over her head and slipped one shoulder through, and in a blink, Cady happily chewed her fingers against her mother’s chest while Gina strained a pot of potatoes.
“Seems like forever since I wore my kids in a sling like that.” Ada sighed wistfully, recalling how it was the only way Karalee would nap. She could clean house and even vacuum—nothing bothered that baby as long as she was snug against her momma.
She and Gina swapped new-mommy horror stories, laughing as the conversation bounced easily to other things. The men eventually ambled in from the next room, stealing samples of the half-assembled dishes before being shooed out of the kitchen.
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang, and voices bounced through the house like superballs. The noise made her miss her kids and not miss them. Terribly.
A teenage boy about Xander’s age entered the kitchen, enormous wireless headphones hiding half the head dipped toward the phone in his hands. Gina snatched the device as he walked past.
“Hey!”
“Dude. Put it away. It’s almost dinner.”
The kid didn’t even argue with the sky-high eyebrow she’d pointed his way. Impressive.
Though Ada was sure she heard him mutter how it sucks having so many moms always giving him a hard tim
e. She turned to hide a smile and saw a pretty young woman carrying in a crockpot.
“Oooh! My squish is awake! Can I hold her after I set this down?”
“Sure, Hailee. That’d be great.”
Gina quickly introduced Ada to the young pair. When their mother and Gina’s trailed in shortly after, another round began.
Gina’s mom was probably only about a decade Adaline’s senior, and Hailee and Javi’s mom was close to her own age. Both were friendly, welcoming, and put Ada at ease immediately. They had such an unusual dynamic—all of the adult women overlapping in their roles as daughter-mother-grandmother-friend to one another. Fascinating.
The chatting and good-natured teasing in the kitchen as they assembled and heated up the remaining dishes was fun and natural.
Just as she always felt spending time with Kent.
“Hey there.” Speaking of. Kent slid onto the stool next to hers.
“Hi,” she replied, bumping his shoulder.
“You seem to be getting along in here.”
“I am. You were right. Gina’s cool. And I like Eva and Belinda.”
She peered at him from the corner of her eye. Sure enough, he was eyeing the baby now sleeping soundly in Hailee’s arms. “You all right?”
Kent nodded, his gaze never leaving the infant. Ada reached her hand over and laced it with his, giving a supportive squeeze. Those eyes of his, framed in unfairly long lashes and sweet as their honey color, met hers and crinkled with his slow half-smile.
No doubt about it, she wasn’t going to be able to resist this man. Girls might have been his kryptonite growing up, but those eyes of his might just be hers.
Lord, help me out here. Is this man for real? Is he in Your plans for me?
The spontaneous prayer surprised her. Faith had been a struggle for such a long time. When was the last time she’d just conversed with God like an old friend?
Yet another thing she’d need to get better at.
Her relationship with God needed to be Priority One. If she could work on just this one thing first and foremost, the rest would likely fall into place. Like releasing the bitterness she still felt toward Jeff. Being more generous and gracious and concerned for others. Letting go of her need for precision and order and predictability.