Jeff had met his ex-wife, Kaylee, during his senior year in college. They’d been lab partners in biology, which he’d saved for his last year.

She’d been a sophomore, and she’d flirted with him all semester. He’d never taken it seriously, assuming she was using him to get a passing grade, as science was clearly not her subject. It wasn’t his subject either, but he read well and memorized well and knew how to follow directions. He made As in everything in college, and biology was no exception. Kaylee had passed too because of his help.

He’d thought she was pretty but superficial, and he noticed she always shied away from Ralph in the dining hall. Maybe it wasn’t fair to use this as a measuring stick for women, but he had ever since he’d first seen Vivian.

As he’d expected, as soon as the course was over, Kaylee had forgotten he’d existed. He might not socialize a lot, but he knew how to read people. He wasn’t sad that a friendship or something more hadn’t materialized.

He wanted a girl like Vivian, who was genuinely kind, who cared about other people and didn’t just use them.

Vivian would obviously never look at him as a potential boyfriend, but he still wanted a girl like her.

He didn’t think about Kaylee again. Not for four years.

The job he’d gotten after graduation was a remarkably good one, with a company he’d interned at for three summers in a row. The job paid well for someone his age, and he learned more than he could have imagined.

That year, he’d gotten a huge bonus because of the success of a project he’d worked on—and because the company had shown huge profits. He’d used that and some of his savings to buy a new car.

He’d bought a Mercedes in one of his few acts of indulgence. For the first time in his life, he could afford it, and the car would probably last him forever.

He’d just bought the car, when he’d decided to drive out to the homecoming football game at his old college. A lot of his old friends would be there. Vivian would be there—he knew because they’d connected on Facebook—and he wanted to talk to her about her blog, which now had a huge audience and potential for becoming a lot more.

He was getting out of his new car in one of his parking lots on campus when a female voice called out a greeting.

It was Kaylee, who’d graduated a couple of years back and was still working on campus in student services.

She was sweet and friendly and seemed genuinely glad to see him. She wanted to reconnect. She seemed to really listen when he talked, something she’d never done back in college, and she suggested they get together sometime for coffee.

She was interested in him. Really interested in him. She was pretty and outgoing and feminine, and she didn’t appear nearly as superficial as she had been in college.

She’d grown up. She’d changed.

He’d really believed it was true.

Looking back, he knew what had happened. She’d seen his new car. That was what had prompted her interest. She’d believed he could afford to give her the lifestyle she wanted, and that had colored her impressions of him.

He hadn’t known it back then though.

He’d been young and very stupid.

They’d dated for six months and were married in nine, and within the first year of marriage, Jeff was getting internal rumblings that everything wasn’t right in their relationship.

Kaylee never seemed satisfied. She was always pushing him to spend more money, to change his wardrobe, to upgrade their apartment. Eventually they’d bought a huge house in one of the affluent Raleigh suburbs. It was a ridiculous house for a young couple with no kids, but Kaylee hadn’t let up until he’d relented.

They had endless arguments about credit card bills and the ever-growing contents of Kaylee’s walk-in closet.

He’d wanted to buy her a car shortly after they married (not a Mercedes—there was no way he could afford two), but none of the cars in their budget were acceptable to her, so she’d ended up leasing one instead.

She wanted an upgrade every year.

She wanted him to buy a new Mercedes, but his was only a few years old and he absolutely wasn’t going to get a new one.

By then he’d partnered up with Vivian on Faith and Fabulousness, and for the first couple of years, there was no guarantee that the company would turn a profit. He literally could no longer afford to indulge Kaylee’s spending habits. He’d had to put his foot down in a very unpleasant way.

That had been the end.

He wasn’t what Kaylee had wanted after all.

One day, he came home to find that she’d packed up all her stuff—and a lot of stuff that had belonged to both of them—and had left him a note saying she wanted a divorce.

More than two years ago now.

He tried to reach out to her, see if there was any way to save their marriage. He obviously knew that marrying her had been a mistake, but he’d committed, and he didn’t go back on his commitments. Not ever.

She wouldn’t even talk to him. She certainly wouldn’t agree to counseling or attempt a reconciliation. As soon as the divorce was finalized, she married a rich, much older man.

That was the life she wanted.

She’d never cheated on him. He was absolutely convinced that was true. She’d just never wanted him.

He wasn’t going to make that mistake again even if it meant he remained unmarried for the rest of his life.

Some things were worse than occasionally being lonely. Some things were worse than not having sex.

Jeff was reminding himself of this truth—and his many mistakes in the past—the following morning over breakfast as he was watching Vivian laugh and tease Zeke.

She’d told him she was determined to get him to smile, and she was clearly making an effort.

Zeke remained unsmiling, although his blue eyes didn’t look cold and hard. They looked like they were almost—almost—amused.

Vivian was beautiful this morning, as she always was, and she looked like she’d slept better last night. She’d been a little skittish with him this morning, and he wondered if it was because he’d almost kissed her last night.

That had been a mistake. He’d barely caught himself in time.

Then he’d spent half the night tossing and turning and thinking about Vivian. Half the time, he was trying futilely not to think about taking her to bed. The rest of the time was even worse—because it was his heart rather than his body doing the yearning. He was thinking about how vulnerable she’d been the day before when he’d come to her room to apologize. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to let her cry for real and know she was safe in his arms. He wanted to take care of her and show her how precious, how valuable she really was—for the rest of her life.

Very, very dangerous thoughts, and ones he hadn’t even known he was foolish enough to feel.

He liked Vivian—better than anyone else in the world. He loved her even.

But he hadn’t known he was in love with her. He hadn’t thought he was that stupid.

He told himself he really wasn’t. They were just passing feelings based on the intimacy he’d experienced with her yesterday.

Once this retreat was over, they’d get back to normal and he would no longer be tempted to do very foolish things.

He wasn’t going to give his heart to another woman who would never really want it.

Vivian wasn’t like Kaylee. He knew she wasn’t. But she was beautiful and brilliant and successful and absolutely untouchable. She could have any man she wanted.

She wasn’t going to want him.

***

They painted on canvases in the studio that morning, and then they went to the pool to play water polo.

Jeff enjoyed himself. He was absolutely terrible at painting, and Vivian made sure he knew it, but he was pretty good at polo, even in the water.

Vivian was a lot more confident today during the game, and so he didn’t have to worry about her.

Except for watching her bounce around in her swimsuit with her wet, golden skin and her lush, curvy body.

He could have done without that.

They finished up a little before noon, and Vivian was still laughing as she climbed out of the pool.

As Jeff dried off, he tried to keep his eyes to himself, but they kept straying over to Vivian.

She was blotting her sopping wet hair, and water was streaming down her long, fit limbs. The wetness caused her red suit to cling to her body. She was in great shape, but she wasn’t built like a model. She had rounded hips and full breasts and lean musculature in her arms and thighs. He could see the outline of her tight nipples through the wet fabric of the suit. Her breasts jiggled as she dried her hair.

He gulped as his whole body tightened with interest.

He could well imagine how her body would feel against his, how it would feel wrapped around him, how it would feel if he touched it, caressed her.

He wanted to so much that he was in danger of revealing his desire to other people, so he kept his towel positioned strategically.

She glanced over at him and saw him watching her, and she gave him a little smile.

She clearly had absolutely no idea what he was thinking.

She would probably be shocked and betrayed if she found out.

He tried to smile back but couldn’t manage it since her expression made him visualize her smiling up at him in bed, all flushed and tousled and passionate.

He turned away from her quickly with a strangled sound.

Garrett came over and pounded him on the back. “Good game, man. It’s not your fault that we were just the better team.”

Jeff’s team had lost.

Jeff tried to respond to the teasing but couldn’t manage much. He was going to need to make an escape soon before someone started reading the signs.

So he announced they should all get showered and changed and reconvene for lunch in about a half hour.

Then he got upstairs before Vivian had finished toweling off.

***

He took a longer shower than normal, and he was just putting on his shoes when there was a knock on his door.

When he swung it open, he saw Vivian standing there, wearing a short knit dress that brought out the blue of her eyes and clung to her figure. She wasn’t smiling and looked a little uncertain.

“Hey,” he said. “I was just heading down.” He finished with his shoes and glanced back over at her to see she was peering at him closely.

Shit. Surely she hadn’t seen his physical response to her earlier.

He’d done everything in his power to hide it.

“What?” he said, a little more curtly than normal.

“Are you annoyed with me?”

He stared at her. “Of course not. Why would I be?”

“I don’t know. You’re just acting weird now, and you were acting kind of weird down by the pool.”

She had noticed. She just hadn’t known what was prompting it.

That was a grace in itself.

“No. Sorry, I was just distracted. Of course I’m not mad.”

She stepped over closer to him, and her eyes were worried and soft on his face. “I really appreciate… yesterday. How you were with me. I hope you know that. How much I appreciate you. Because I do.”

Shit, shit, shit—now his heart was responding as much as his body had earlier.

He just couldn’t win.

He cleared his throat and looked down so she wouldn’t see anything inappropriate in his eyes. “Thanks.”

“Are you embarrassed?” Her voice was a little lighter now, more familiar.

That was as good an excuse as anything. “Uh, yeah.”

She laughed. “You never could take a compliment.” She reached out and wrapped her arms around him. “I adore you, Jeff. You know that, right?”

His heart shouldn’t be soaring like this, thumping so fast it felt like it would literally leave the ground. He returned the hug, pulling her against him, and for a moment imagined he might have the right to hold her like this every day.

But her tone was almost teasing. She wasn’t declaring her love for him.

She was being herself, being his friend, trying to make things comfortable between them again.

He managed to say, just a little hoarsely, “I’m kind of fond of you too.”

She was smiling when he let her go, and he had to smile back.

She felt better, and he was sure pretty soon she would forget they’d even had this conversation.

He wouldn’t forget though.

***

They were leaving after lunch when they ran into Cecily, who was showing a new couple around the center.

She smiled at them and said, “Hello, Vivian, Jeff. Let me introduce you. The Duncans have just arrived to stay for a few days. This is Daniel and Jessica.”

The Duncans looked to be in their thirties. Jessica was tall, slim, and attractive in an understated way—not bright and stylish like Vivian. And Daniel had dark hair, a friendly smile, and an intelligent look about him.

They introduced themselves, saying they were from the mountains in the western part of the state. Daniel was a pastor, and they were the parents of a toddler, who was staying with his aunt and uncle while his parents had a little break.

Vivian was her normal outgoing self, asking a lot of questions and clearly making the couple like her and want to get to know her better. She did it without even trying to. It was just one of her gifts.

Jeff wasn’t like that, so he appreciated it in others.

After they’d talked for about ten minutes, they said their goodbyes, and Vivian and Jeff started back upstairs.

“They seem nice,” Vivian said, leaning back against the rail in the elevator.

“Yeah.”

They were silent for a minute as the elevator ascended. When the doors slid open, Vivian asked, “What are you going to do this afternoon?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. What about you?”

“I don’t know.” Vivian was standing in the hallway in front of her room, and she shifted from leg to leg.

“You can go lie by the pool. Or out on the beach?”

“I’ve done that for the past two days.”

“A lot of people like to do it every day.”

She gave a little shrug.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I just feel kind of… restless, you know. I want to do something.”

“You’re here to relax.”

“I know, but it’s boring to relax for too long. I don’t feel like reading or napping. I want to do something.”

Jeff wanted to do something too, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t what Vivian meant.

“Well, get some exercise or something. If you’re tired enough, you won’t be restless.”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you take a run? It’s not too hot today, and you could run on the beach.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Why do you guess? Isn’t running your thing?”

“It is. I usually like it.”

“So what’s the problem?’

“I wanted to do something with someone else,” she said, looking unusually shy.

His heart did the silliest little flip-flop as he wondered if she was hinting at him to join her.

Maybe that was why she seemed so strangely undecided.

“I can come with you if you want,” he offered, trying to sound casual.

Her eyes shot up to his face, and she broke out in a smile.

That was what she’d wanted.

She’d wanted to do something with him.

“But you’re not a runner,” she said.

He gave a half shrug. “I can run. I’m in decent shape, you know.”

“I know you are. I just meant, you don’t like to run.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve never known you to run before.”

“Well, I am now. So go change clothes and meet back here in five minutes.” He spoke brusquely because he was trying to hide how excited he was about her desire to hang out with him.

“Five minutes! How am I supposed to change clothes that quickly?”

“How long does it take? No primping. Five minutes.”

She grumbled under her breath as she opened her door, but he suspected she was smiling.

So was he.

***

Jeff worked out semiregularly, but he wasn’t any sort of athlete and he never did much running.

He should have thought of this before he’d suggested running with Vivian.

She ran several times a week. She was just better at it than him. He did fine to begin with, but soon he was out of breath, and the sun was beating down on him with oppressive heat. And then his body started to hurt—mostly his knees and calves. And eventually it felt like his blood was throbbing so painfully it was going to burst out of his body.

Vivian, naturally, looked perfectly fine—flushed and with a sheen of perspiration on her skin but breathing evenly and still running at a steady pace.

Jeff could barely see through the sweat pouring into his eyes, and he was afraid any minute he would just collapse onto the hot sand.

And Vivian would know how unimpressive he really was.

“You want to take a break?” she asked, her voice slightly breathless but otherwise normal.

He looked over at her, and she nodded toward a bench in front of them.

He would have liked to say he didn’t need one but better to rest now than to completely humiliate himself. “Sure,” he said, attempting casual.

They slowed to a walk as they headed to the bench, and Jeff’s legs were so shaky that his knees almost buckled as he sat down.

It should have been better now that he was sitting, but heat seemed to rise like a wave inside him, from his belly to his chest to his head. He could hardly breathe around the heat.

He had to lean over and gasp loudly until he was able to take in air normally again.

When he straightened up and wiped away the sweat, he saw that Vivian was watching him. Her lips were trembling, and her eyes were dancing.

He groaned. “Don’t say it.”

She laughed out loud. “I thought you said you could run.”

“I can run. I ran all this way, didn’t I?”

“And you look like you’re about to pass out.”

He groaned again, but the breath caught in his throat, so he had to lean forward and breathe deeply again.

Vivian was still laughing as she got up and walked over to a food stand and then returned with a bottle of water. She took a sip and then handed it to him.

He started with small sips until the heat in his body started to subside. Then he took a few larger gulps.

He was feeling better when Vivian reached for the bottle and finished it off.

Jeff dropped his head in his hands. “Well, that was embarrassing.”

Vivian laughed again and reached out to rub his back. His shirt was almost soaked with sweat, but it didn’t stop her from touching him. “We could have done something other than run,” she said. “I’m sorry I made you.”

“Don’t be sorry. I thought it would be easier than this.”

“Running on the sand isn’t easy.”

“You didn’t seem to have much trouble with it.”

“I run all the time.”

“I hate running,” he grumbled. “The entire purpose of existence for the torturous activity seems to be humiliating me and making me suffer.”

She laughed again and scooted closer, leaning her face against his shoulder. “I don’t think running has a personal grudge against you.”

“Yes, it does. For Pete’s sake.”

He heard the last words as they came out of his lips, and he shot his eyes over to Vivian’s face. He saw her lips wobble in suppressed amusement.

She obviously saw that he saw, so she laughed out loud. “I haven’t heard you say that in a while.”

He hadn’t used the expression since she’d mentioned it. He didn’t even know why—just that he didn’t want to be a source of amusement for her.

He wanted her to… admire him, respect him.

Want him.

Her laughter faded as she watched his face. “You haven’t been stopping yourself from saying it because of me, have you?”

He just rolled his eyes at her, partly because he still hadn’t caught his breath and partly because he didn’t know what to say.

She’d straightened up as they talked, but now she leaned against him again. “I didn’t want you to stop saying it. I like that you say it. It feels like… you. And I like it.”

“You like that I sound like I should be a neighbor of Beaver Cleaver?” he asked dryly.

“Yes. I like it. It’s… you.”

Despite his complaints, his rueful embarrassment was quickly transforming to very different feelings. She felt so sweet and fond, leaning against him that way. She didn’t seem to care that he was red and sweaty and still out of breath. And she appeared to mean what she said about liking even the parts of him that were kind of dorky.

She seemed to want to be close to him.

He couldn’t help but raise his hand and brush back the loose hairs that had escaped her ponytail.

She looked up at him at his touch. Either she saw something in his eyes or a new thought had flickered through her head, because her smile faded to something deep, serious, hotter than warm.

She was flushed and sweating and strong and feminine and vibrant and everything he wanted.

And he was too tired to hold himself back. He raised a hand to her face, cupping it gently.

She sucked in a breath, and her lips parted slightly. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

His whole body throbbed with one simple truth. This woman was for him.

He leaned toward her, and she wasn’t pulling away. She was going to let him kiss her. His eyes blurred over with the realization.

At the very last minute, he remembered that she was Vivian Harper, and she was never going to want more than a kiss from him.

He pulled back rather awkwardly.

Vivian’s brows lowered, and she took a ragged breath.

Jeff felt like a fool, and he hated himself for not taking what his body and heart were both crying out for.

He thought Vivian would stand up, regain her usual self, suggest they return to Balm in Gilead.

Instead, she said softly, “That’s the second time you almost kissed me.”

She’d always been direct. One of the many things he loved about her.

He had no idea what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

“Are you ever going to do it for real?” she added.

His eyes shot back to her face. She was looking at him expectantly. She smelled like salt and sunshine and effort and sunscreen and the melon-scented lotion she used.

He let out a soft groan and took her face in his hand again, leaning forward to claim her lips with his.

His body pulsed with pleasure as he tasted her at last, as her whole body softened into the kiss. Her hand came up to tangle in his hair, and her lips moved eagerly against his, like he was a dessert she couldn’t wait to finish.

His body started to respond to the roar in his head, in his heart. He felt himself starting to harden, and the knowledge forced him to pull away.

She didn’t want to stop kissing him. She let out a little whimper and followed his retreat, holding on to his neck with both hands, her mouth clinging deliciously to his.

“Vivian,” he murmured, his voice ridiculously thick. He slid one of his hands down her back, feeling the smooth curve of her spine, the irresistible softness of her bottom.

She let out a long breath as she finally pulled her lips away from his. He rested his forehead against hers.

“That was… that was…” She was more breathless now than she’d been after the run.

He was afraid she was going to say it had been a huge mistake. And he would be crushed because kissing her felt like the best thing he’d ever done in his life.

Like one of the things he’d been created to do.

“That was really good,” she concluded at last.

“It was better than good.”

Her eyes darted up to his, and then she dropped her gaze again, looking soft and pretty and slightly shy and more irresistible than ever.

“Then maybe we’ll have to do it again,” she replied.

That was exactly what Jeff wanted to hear.