Jeff woke up hard.

He’d actually slept pretty well for the most part, only waking up a couple of times to chaotic, excited thoughts about Vivian. But at six thirty the following morning, he opened his eyes to the knowledge that his body was throbbing with unsatisfied physical desire.

He was hot, sweating, flushed, uncomfortable—and very, very hard.

He rolled out of bed with a groan and limped to the shower. After turning it on much cooler than was comfortable, he stepped in and dealt with the painful shock of the cold spray hitting his hot skin.

He hadn’t had sex since Kaylee had left. Dealing with physical frustration was commonplace for him. But it wasn’t usually this intense.

He’d always been attracted to Vivian, but in the past four days, something had changed. All his yearning, all his passion, all his primitive biological urges had coalesced into one unstoppable force, focused only on her.

It wasn’t good.

It wasn’t good at all.

Kissing her was good—better than anything. And the fact that she wanted to kiss him back was like a miracle.

But she hadn’t suddenly discovered he was the love of her life. He was absolutely convinced she was just trying something out, indulging this sudden new whimsy. She didn’t want anyone else to know about it, and that was because she wasn’t sure this would last. There was no reason to assume or expect this would continue for longer than the week. He’d be an utter fool to let himself believe she was already serious about it.

And if he couldn’t get his head and heart and body reined in where she was concerned, he would be utterly devastated when she returned to the office and remembered who she was and what was most important to her.

She’d insisted on keeping the change in relationship secret from the staff. She’d told Jessica Duncan yesterday that she and Jeff were just friends.

She was definitely playing it safe here, and Jeff needed to do the same.

But even with this piece of wisdom and the cold shower, it was several minutes before he had himself under control enough to pray.

For years now Jeff had made a point of praying in the shower and on his daily commutes in the car. They were built-in times every day when he was required to perform fairly mindless activities and couldn’t do anything else. As he scrubbed his body and washed his hair and waited at traffic lights, he would talk to God and try to listen.

But this morning it was several minutes before he was able to concentrate on praying.

***

The morning passed as the other mornings had—in generally enjoyable team activities. He didn’t even mind that in the midst of their tennis game they ended up brainstorming about a web series devoted to gardens. And he tried not to obsess over every time Vivian wouldn’t meet his eyes.

This was new for her—just like him. And she was used to being completely confident in who she was and how she interacted with her staff. Of course, she was a little insecure about how she would behave with him right now in front of the others.

Yes, she was a little skittish, but that didn’t mean she was second-guessing things between them.

It didn’t mean she wanted to stop kissing him.

It didn’t mean there was nothing else between them but kissing.

He caught her in the lobby after lunch and pulled her into a quiet hallway.

She was breathing quickly as she stared up at him, and her eyes were very wide.

She was nervous. He could see it. It did something strange to his heart.

“What is it?” she asked, when he didn’t say anything.

“Did you want to do something this afternoon?”

She gave him a little smile. “I assumed I’d do something.”

“I meant with me.”

“I knew what you meant.”

“Maybe we can go out somewhere so we’re not at risk of being seen.”

She nodded, and he could feel her relax, as if she liked the safety his suggestion offered. “I wouldn’t mind going shopping.”

“Why did I know you were going to say that?”

“Don’t be snide.” She started to touch his chest in an affectionate gesture but dropped her hand. “We can do something else if you’d rather.”

“Shopping is fine. Do you think there’s anything here but those tacky beach shops?”

“We can drive through several towns and check them out,” Vivian said. Her whole demeanor had brightened, and he’d always loved when that happened—like joy was bursting out of her so intensely that it spilled out of all her pores. “I’m kind of hot and sweaty, so I might take a shower and change first though.”

“That’s fine. I’ll wait for you down here.”

She touched his arm gently before she turned around and returned to the lobby.

Jeff again reminded himself not to get too excited about this.

They’d always gotten along.

They’d always cared for each other.

It was new and promising that she’d now discovered that she could view him as a man, but that didn’t mean she’d made any sort of commitment or decision.

He’d been down the road of pouring himself into a relationship with a woman who didn’t want him.

He knew better than to do that again.

He just had to keep reminding himself.

Seeking a distraction, he wandered outside onto the pool deck and went to stand by the railings, looking at the waves come in and out. It wasn’t as sunny today as it had been earlier that week, and the clouds made the water look sober, serious, reflective—with only the occasional sparkle flashing out.

“They say it’s not going to rain,” a voice came from behind him. “But it sure looks like it will.”

Jeff turned around and saw Daniel Duncan, whom he’d met two days ago. Jessica’s husband. A preacher. That was all Jeff knew about the other man. He smiled since Daniel had sounded friendly. “Hopefully the clouds will blow out of here soon.” He glanced around but saw no sign of Daniel’s wife. “You’re on your own?”

“Jessica’s upstairs changing. I’m just waiting.”

“So am I,” Jeff admitted. “I guess guys do a lot of that.”

Daniel chuckled and came forward to stand next to Jeff at the railing. “Jessica is actually really fast at changing clothes and getting ready, but my first wife used to take longer. Oh the hours I spent waiting.”

Daniel’s tone was fond, so it was clear he didn’t hold any resentment against his first wife’s slow beauty routine, but Jeff’s eyebrows lifted at this piece of information. He never would have guessed that Daniel had been divorced. He came across as the kind of man who would marry young and stay married his entire life.

Of course, Jeff had always assumed he was one of those men too.

Life didn’t always happen the way you expected.

“So you’re divorced too?” Jeff asked because he was genuinely curious and Daniel seemed fairly open and forthcoming.

Daniel’s face sobered slightly. “No. My first wife died.”

Jeff felt a jolt of surprise—and then guilt. Here he was, thinking about himself and how he was glad he wasn’t the only one whose wife walked out on him, when Daniel had had to deal with the death of a spouse. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

Daniel gave a half shrug. “Thanks. It was a really good marriage—just a short one. It’s been several years. I have Jessica now—and a son. God is good.” He paused for a few seconds. “When did you get divorced?”

“Officially, it’s been a little over a year, but she left me more than two years ago.” Jeff wasn’t usually the kind of person who spilled a lot of personal information to strangers, but it felt easy to talk to Daniel, and for some reason he wanted to.

“That had to be hard. I would imagine, even if you can see things working out in good ways afterward, going through it had to be really painful.”

“Yeah. I tried. I really did. But there are some things that just can’t be fixed. I guess.”

Daniel nodded. “Yes. But we can be fixed. I find that a very encouraging thought.”

The words struck Jeff unexpectedly, and he was silent as he thought them through.

His marriage hadn’t been fixable—at least not on his own. It had left him broken in a lot of ways he was still trying to work through.

But he was fixable. God could fix him.

Here was Daniel, obviously in love with his wife and his family and the life he was living—even though his first wife had been taken in a way that must have felt very cruel.

Maybe there was hope for Jeff too.

Maybe there could be a future with Vivian beyond kissing in hidden corners.

It wasn’t a sure thing, but it was a possibility.

Maybe Jeff should treat it as a possibility.

His heart was beating quickly when Vivian came out of the building and out onto the pool deck.

She smiled when she met his eyes and waved. “There you are! I was looking for you.”

Jeff felt his mouth, his face, his whole being smiling in response.

He’d been looking for her too.

***

They drove south toward Ocracoke and stopped in each little town they came to. Despite its growing popularity, the Outer Banks weren’t very commercialized yet, so the shopping options were mostly beach shops and little grocery stores. But they found a couple of cute markets and had fun browsing local food items and crafts.

Most of the stores were what Vivian called “primitive shops” and what Jeff called “junk stores.” Vivian obviously loved this kind of shopping as much as she did shopping for designer clothes, and Jeff just loved watching her enjoy it.

After about an hour, Vivian suggested they stop somewhere for a drink, so they went to sit on the outdoor patio of a local coffee shop. Vivian got an herbal tea and a sugar cookie. Jeff got a beer.

As they sat, twice he saw Vivian reach for her purse and then stop abruptly. He knew what she was doing.

Looking for her phone.

He found himself doing the same thing more often than he’d expected. It was habit—second nature—to check in, to look for messages, to find out what was happening in the world.

The second time she reached for her phone, Vivian caught him looking at her and gave him a wry smile. “Sometimes I try to remember what it was like as a kid, when I didn’t always have a phone, and I really can’t even remember.”

“I can’t either,” he admitted. “It really is a kind of miracle—carrying a computer around in our pockets the way we do now. Kaylee used to…” He trailed off as he realized what he was saying.

She cocked her head slightly and said after a brief pause, “Kaylee used to what?”

He gave a little shrug. “Nothing.”

“You don’t talk about her much.”

“I know.”

“You can, you know. I wouldn’t mind.” She sipped her tea and added with downcast eyes, “I’d like for you to be able to talk about her to me.”

It meant something—that she said that, that she clearly meant it. Jeff cleared his throat. “I… Thanks. It’s just that I don’t want to be one of those guys who are always whining and complaining about his ex-wife.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his. “You can talk to me about her without whining and complaining.”

“Maybe. But honestly I wouldn’t always have nice things to say about her. I guess we had our moments—a few of them—but it wasn’t a good marriage.”

“I know.” Her voice was soft as if she were afraid of startling or unnerving him.

He glanced away, feeling embarrassed for no good reason. “It happens. Everyone makes mistakes. But sometimes you make a mistake that you have to pay for—for years.”

“But it’s over now, isn’t it? You’re not still paying for it, are you?”

“Not really. I never see or talk to her anymore, and since we didn’t have any kids, there was nothing tying us together. The only thing that’s left is…” He trailed off again, this time not because he didn’t want to speak ill of Kaylee but rather because he didn’t want Vivian to think he was foolish.

“Is what?” she prompted, her eyes very soft on his face. “All the emotional stuff?”

He nodded. “I’m over the worst of it. I really am. But it’s surprising sometimes how much lingers—well past the time when it should.”

She nodded, clearly thinking through what he’d said. “I guess maybe it’s hard for you to trust women now.”

“Not as a whole, but…” He cleared his throat again, wishing he could be more in control and articulate. He couldn’t though. This went too deep—and his feelings for Vivian did too. “It’s just that I… I gave Kaylee my heart, and she just didn’t want it. It’s hard not to assume it’s going to happen again.”

“I can understand that. That’s got to be normal, after what you went through.” She was silent for a minute before she asked in a different voice, “You trust me, don’t you?”

His eyes shot over to her face, and he saw that the idea that he might not really bothered her. He reached over to take her hand, holding it on the table. “Of course I trust you, Viv.”

“I hope you do. You’re so incredibly special to me, Jeff.”

His throat ached with feeling as he squeezed her hand. “I do trust you. We’ve known each other so long. We’ve had so many years together. I do trust you. It’s not the same as it was with Kaylee.”

He knew this was true, and somehow saying it out loud made it feel more true.

He’d been wrong about Kaylee, but he wasn’t wrong about Vivian.

He’d known her for thirteen years, and his first impression of her—in that orientation event—had been proven right over and over again.

She gave him a little smile. “I trust you too.”

***

They kept moving through a few little towns after their break, and they visited four other stores. When he needed to make a quick bathroom break, he came out to see Vivian standing over a little wooden table in the corner of the seventh cluttered shop of the afternoon.

Even on first glance, Jeff knew that something had changed in her mood. She’d been bright and laughing all day—except for their conversation at the coffee shop—but she wasn’t smiling now. She was staring down at the vintage table with a strangely deep, quiet look on her face.

He walked over and put a hand on her back.

She glanced up with a little smile but then turned back to the table. It looked about fifty years old and was obviously made as a side table for a chair. It had a small flat surface, one shelf underneath, and four thin, delicate legs. It had obviously been painted more than once in its history, and the brown, green, and white paints were visible in different areas, giving a kind of shabby chic look to the thing.

“You okay?” he asked, rubbing her back gently and amazed that he was able to do so, that she was letting him do so.

“Yeah,” she said. There was a break in her voice though. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

He turned back to the table. Surely she wasn’t getting all emotional over this old thing? It was cute enough, but pieces like this were a dime a dozen in these kinds of junk stores. “It’s okay, I guess. It needs to be sanded and re-stained though.”

“No!” She stroked the rough surface. “That would ruin it. The fading paint jobs is one of the things that make it beautiful. All that history. Someone hand made this.” She crouched down and looked up, making it clear that he needed to lean over too. When he did, she pointed out the underside of the top shelf. “Look at these joints. This was made by hand. And then repainted at least four times, one layer over top the next. And look at this.”

He peered in at the bottom shelf she was indicating and noticed that there was the slightest indentation in the wood, as if a large book had been slid on and off the shelf, over and over and over again, enough to leave an impression in the wood.

“Whoever made this kept a Bible here.” Vivian breathed.

“How do you know it was a Bible?”

“What else would it be? A book that size, one that they must have taken off the shelf nearly every day? So much that it would do this to the wood. Of course it was a Bible.” She reached up toward him, and he helped her stand up again. “It makes me want to cry.”

“Really?” He wasn’t teasing her anymore. He genuinely wanted to know why a piece of furniture like this—as nice as it was—would affect her emotionally so much.

“I know you think I’m silly.”

“No, I don’t.” He slid an arm around her waist, and she leaned against him in a deliciously trusting manner. “Tell me why it makes you cry.”

“I don’t know. Just the… the beauty of it, what it says about family and routine and faith and tradition. It’s like a whole slice of human history represented by wood and paint and skill.” She caressed the surface of the table again. “It’s like Isaiah 60,” she added.

He frowned, trying to remember the contents of that chapter. He knew his Bible well, having been raised in a Christian home, going to church and Sunday School all his life. But he didn’t immediately recognize the reference. “What’s that one?”

“It’s that picture of the city of God in the future, in the new creation. All the peoples of the world offering their tribute, bringing what they have to God to help build his house. Camels and gold and cypress trees and…” Her voice drifted off for a moment. She was still staring at the table. “They bring the best that they have to him, and he accepts it. And then he uses it—what we bring—to beautify his beautiful house.”

“Wow.” Jeff breathed, after a moment of silence. It sounded like a pitiful understatement in response to what she’d just said, to how it had hit him, but she seemed to understand that he wasn’t belittling it. She leaned against him more fully, and he wrapped both arms around her.

“He doesn’t need anything to make his house beautiful. He’s perfect beauty in and of himself. And yet he takes our offerings, the works of our hands and our minds, and he’ll make it part of the beauty of eternity. Like this table.”

“I guess I could bring him my spreadsheets,” Jeff murmured after a minute.

She chuckled and stretched up to kiss his jaw lightly. “Of course you can. That’s the whole point of that chapter. All the different peoples of the world have something different to offer him. And all of it is blessed by him, used by him to make eternity beautiful.” She paused, pulling back to study his face. “You know that includes your spreadsheets, right?”

He’d never—not once in his life—thought about his work in the world that way. He’d always believed he could make a difference, even a small one, in building God’s kingdom, but he’d never seen what he did as having eternal significance.

Not like this.

He was strangely awed—by the truth of it and by Vivian, who put pieces together in her mind that way and could bring out truths he’d never seen before. He had no idea what to say in response to it.

It was almost a full minute that they stood there together, one of his arms still wrapped around her.

He felt closer to her in that moment than he’d ever felt to anyone in his life. As if they weren’t just breathing the same air, thinking the same thoughts—but like they were living in the same heartbeat.

Then she finally said, “I don’t always feel like what I do… matters, not as much as what the rest of my family does.”

“I know you don’t,” he murmured. “And I’m always trying to tell you it does.”

“I know you do.” She looked up at him, her lips finally turning up in a little smile. “I guess that’s why passages like that vision in Isaiah mean so much to me. And this little table. This idea that we’re not just throwing our work away for nothing—to be forgotten the next day, the next year, or after we die. But that God can use it, whatever it is, to make eternity more beautiful.”

He met her eyes, something shaking inside him, so much feeling that he couldn’t possibly process it, much less articulate.

He couldn’t say anything.

He didn’t seem to need to.

After a long, held gaze, Vivian finally glanced away, clearing her throat. “Sorry. That’s all the theological reflections for today. I don’t know why I just got in a rambling mood like that.”

“You can get in that mood with me anytime.” He tilted her head up and then leaned forward to brush her lips with his. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“You’re here for a lot more than that.”

She meant it.

She saw him as a lot more than a sounding board and an organizer and implementer for all her ideas.

She saw him, valued him, as a person.

Maybe she even wanted him.

There was something here between them, something he’d never let himself acknowledge before.

And it was more than they liked to kiss each other or they were good at working together. They trusted each other, and what better foundation could there be for a romantic relationship.

Maybe they could actually build a future together. It was early but not as early as it seemed since they’d known each other for so long.

Jeff wasn’t going to run away from it, shy away from it, hide because it frightened him to risk his heart again.

This was more than worth the risk.

***

When they returned to Balm in Gilead an hour later, they were both unusually quiet. It didn’t feel awkward though. It felt… intimate.

It was a new feeling between them, and one that Jeff just loved.

They didn’t run into any of the other staff members as they walked into the building and then upstairs.

Jeff wanted to hold Vivian’s hand, but he was afraid she would pull hers away. She’d said she didn’t want their relationship to be made public yet, and it wouldn’t be fair to force her into it without having a discussion.

He wanted to though. Have a discussion with her about their relationship.

He’d lived too long assuming a woman was committed to him, only to find out that she wasn’t in the most painful of ways.

His heart was at stake, and all he wanted was for it to feel secure.

They made it to the third floor, stopping in front of Vivian’s door.

She unlocked it and then turned back toward him. “I had… a really good time this afternoon,” she murmured, dropping her eyes almost shyly.

His heart immediately jumped into a full-fledged rampage in his chest. “Me too,” he said thickly.

The chime for the elevator sounded down the hall, and Vivian’s eyes shot over to it. Responding to her obvious anxiety about someone seeing them, he stepped her backward into her room and closed the door behind them.

Then, because her body felt so good against his, he eased her back against the wall to the entryway.

She stared up at him, her eyes wide and excited and her cheeks turning pinker than before. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked breathlessly, a delicious lilt to her voice.

“Kissing you.”

He’d always understood himself as being a man of his word, so he followed through on his words now. He leaned forward, catching her lips with his and then sliding his tongue out to tease them a little.

She made a little sound that went right to his groin as she pressed herself against him and slid her hands up to his shoulders. Her lips parted, and she gave herself over to the embrace with a passion, an eagerness, that only fueled his desire.

When his arousal grew too insistent, he forced himself to pull back, unable to stop himself from groaning softly at the difficulty of such self-restraint.

“You’re quite a kisser, you know,” she said, smiling up at him. She looked flushed and rumpled and pleased but not nearly as physically tortured as he was.

He chuckled. “Does that surprise you?”

“No. Not really. You’re good at a lot of things.” She paused for a moment, moving her hand up to caress his face, cheek, and jaw very gently. “You’re good with me.”

“I’m glad you think so. I plan to be good with you for as long as you’ll let me.”

The words came out as more intentional than he’d thought they would, and he saw their significance register in her eyes.

Before he could get worried about it though, she smiled up at him again. “Are you sure you want the responsibility? I’m not an easy woman, you know.”

Her tone had been light, almost teasing, but Jeff frowned anyway. “What does that mean?”

“You know me, Jeff. I’m kind of… complicated. High maintenance. Guys don’t usually like high maintenance. At least I assume that’s why no one has ever wanted to be with me for very long.”

“I like high maintenance. I like complicated. You’re not going to scare me away, Vivian. I’m more than up for the challenge.”

He’d obviously said the right thing—the thing she’d wanted to hear—because her face bloomed with pleasure, joy, something akin to awe.

It took Jeff’s breath away.

He leaned down to kiss her again, very softly despite the continued compulsion of his groin. “I’m crazy about you, Vivian,” he murmured against her mouth. “Exactly as you are.”

It would have been nice if she’d said it back to him, but the way she wrapped her arms around him in a tight, emotional hug was response enough for him.

At least for now.