Lily stayed up until almost one a.m. getting everything ready for breakfast so she’d have a minimum of prep to do cooking in front of Gage. She was as good a cook as she was a baker, but she didn’t like an audience. Especially not one she had a crush on.

She’d meant what she’d told Gage. It wasn’t his fault he was allergic to cats. But what if he broke out in hives and sneezed all through breakfast?

There was a woman in her book club who never came when they met at Lily’s house—because of Fudge. But another woman, who was allergic to cats and dogs both, could only come as long as she didn’t touch Fudge, and as long as she took her allergy meds beforehand. Of course, Lily vacuumed every square inch of the house before book club. She’d have to ask Betsy what allergy medication she took. Maybe she could recommend it to Gage.

The thing was, getting rid of that cat was not an option. Fudge had a special place in her heart, especially now that it could be argued he’d been responsible for getting her and Gage together. Still, she would choose Gage over Fudge in a heartbeat—no offense, buddy. Her mother, however, would see things quite differently. And Mom didn’t even know Gage.

Lily had asked Gage if it would be better if they went to his place because of the cat.

His answer had been immediate. “Definitely not. My kitchen is not equipped for a chef of your talents.”

“Do you have a skillet and a microwave?”

“Both. But I also have a cranky landlady who might sully your reputation if she knew you were at my place unchaperoned.”

She’d laughed at that, but she suspected her dad might agree with Gage’s landlady. “Okay, my place it is,” she’d told him.

She trusted Gage completely. It was her she worried about. She liked that man more every time she was with him, and him playing a guitar at sunrise just might put her over the edge. Even if he was playing hymns.

She fell asleep smiling at that thought.

She was still smiling when her alarm went off three and a half hours later. However she quit smiling when five thirty came and went and Gage still hadn’t shown up. Or called. She checked her phone. No messages. She checked her e-mail. Nothing. She knew he had her number.

Surely he hadn’t stood her up. She stared at her phone, willing it to ring. But she was not going to be the girl who called a man if he was ten minutes late.

She paced for a few minutes, then carried her laptop and phone to the living room where she could watch for his car entering the cul-de-sac. She curled up on the sofa, ready to jump up if he should ever show up.

Feeling like the stalker she was, she typed Gage’s name into Google. Whoa! A dozen images and pages of links flowed onto the page. Most were of Gage in uniform—college baseball at Mizzou. He’d told her that. She hadn’t realized it was such a big deal.

She clicked on a couple of the links. He did look cute in a baseball uniform. The stories and photos were all about baseball, and mostly about his college career cut short. She didn’t even understand most of the references—velocity and bullpens and fastballs and sliders—but the tone of the stories was that this was a tragedy of major proportions. Or major league proportions? Apparently Gage was some gift to the world of baseball, and his injury had ended what promised to be a brilliant career in the pros.

In the photos, he was tanned and his hair was longer and bleached by the sun. But he still had that trademark crooked grin she’d come to love so much.

To Gage’s credit, that wasn’t how he’d colored the story when he told her. It was merely a shoulder injury. As she remembered, he’d literally shrugged it off. Even called it no big deal. Now she wondered. He didn’t seem bitter. But what emotions had he buried that might come out as anger later on?

She closed the laptop. Who was she to be playing psychiatrist? It was not fair to project Dustin’s issues on every athlete she met. She wished she’d never searched Gage. Just call it what it is, O’Neal—stalking. Now she’d have to pretend she didn’t know something she knew all too well.

She stared out the window, and when Gage still hadn’t arrived—or called—half an hour later, her irritation turned to worry. Not so much that he’d bailed on her, but that something had happened. He’d be driving on just a few hours of sleep. And a spare tire. One that she had changed. She felt sure she’d gotten the lug nuts tight enough that the tire wasn’t going anywhere, but what if she hadn’t? He could be lying dead on the road while she’d sat here creeping on him on the Internet, and letting her pride keep her from checking on his well-being.

She gave a little growl and punched his name on her phone.

“God, please let him be okay,” she whispered, while she waited for him to answer. “I kind of like that guy. I kind of think he might be the one. And I know that sounds ridiculous, God, especially when I’ve only known him for a few days. But I just have this feeling—”

“Lily?” His froggy voice told her she’d woken him up.

“Oh. Hey. Um… Happy Easter.”

“Oh no!” He groaned. “Oh, shoot! I am so sorry. I overslept! Give me ten minutes. I’ll be right there.”

The line went dead.

Lily looked at the ceiling. “As I was saying, Lord, I just have a feeling…that I don’t have a clue if this is the guy for me or not.”

* * *

The sun wasn’t yet peeking over the horizon when Gage pulled into Lily’s driveway, but it would be a miracle if they made it to the spot he’d planned on in time to actually see the sun rise. What kind of an idiot was late for his first real date with a girl he liked as much as he liked Lily?

He started to get out of the car, but the porch light flickered on and Lily came running down the steps before he had one foot on the pavement. It was hard to tell in the dark whether she was mad or not.

She ran around to the passenger side, carrying two cups and a tote bag. He reached across the console to open her door, trying to look appropriately apologetic. “How much trouble am I in?”

She looked surprised. “Did you do it on purpose?”

“Of course not.”

She shrugged. “Then you’re not in trouble at all.”

“Wow. You can be a little mad if you want. I’d deserve it.”

“You’re allowed one mistake. And your punishment is drinking reheated coffee.” She handed one of the cups across the console.

He took it and set it in the cupholder. “Are you going to get in or just stand out there all day?”

“I just wondered… Do you want to take my car? Since you’ve only got the spare tire on yours, you know…”

“It’ll be okay, no farther than we’re going. I’ll get the tire fixed and replaced Monday.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” She slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut behind her. “It’s a gorgeous morning.”

“Except that I ruined our sunrise service.”

“I wouldn’t call it ruined. Not yet.”

He threw her a sidewise glance. “You’re awfully perky for o-dark-thirty in the morning.”

“I’m a morning person,” she chirped. “Besides, this whole sunrise thing was your idea, as I recall.”

He gave a good-natured growl. He was not a morning person. But she might persuade him with that smile. He took a sip of his coffee then set it in the cupholder and cleared out the second cupholder for her. ““It tastes good. Thanks.”

“Did I get enough cream in it?”

“It’s great.” He would have preferred another spoonful of sugar, but he wasn’t going to complain under the circumstances. It was good and hot, and he hadn’t had to make it himself. And unlike most of the girls he’d dated—which wasn’t many, but enough—she wasn’t mad at him for being late.

“Your Easter basket is in the back, but I’ll wait and give it to you when we come back for breakfast if that’s okay.”

“That was so sweet. Thank you, Gage.” She gave him a wry smile. “Now, if you’d forgotten that, I might have been mad.”

“Believe me, I wasn’t about to forget that. Not after I saw the clock. I’m so sorry,” he said again.”

“Stop it. It’s no big deal. Really.” She settled into her seat pulling her jacket around her.

He reached for the heater controls. “Are you cold?”

“A little.”

He turned the fan to high.

“Thanks. So where are we headed? Or are we watching the sunrise from the car?”

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “I think we’ll make it. We just might have to watch the sunrise before the service though.”

“But where?”

“You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

“You’re big on surprises, aren’t you?”

He gave her a sidewise glance. “You’re not?”

“Depends on what kind of surprise it is. If I should have worn hiking shoes because we’re going to have to trek two miles through the mud, then that’s not such a good surprise.”

He turned on the interior light and looked down at her feet. Sturdy sandals. And hot pink toenails. Cara would approve. Except his sister’s tastes ran more in the neon green range. “You’re good to go,” he told Lily. He met her eyes and stopped short. “Hey! Your head…”

She laughed. “Yes? What about my head?”

“No. I mean your stitches.” He reached over and gently brushed wispy bangs from her forehead. “Wow, that looks a lot better than it did yesterday.”

She nodded. “It’s amazing what unwrapping sixteen feet of gauze from your head can do.”

“Sixteen feet, huh? You measured?”

“It’s a close estimate.”

“I’m just glad you’re not scarred for life.”

“I think I’ll live.”

“I don’t mind telling you that you scared the holy beeswax out of me.” Without stopping to think how intimate the gesture was, he grazed her cheek with the back of his hand.

But she didn’t flinch. Instead she held his gaze. What he saw in her eyes—those amazing hazel eyes—scared him almost as much as their adventure in the ER had yesterday. Because he had a feeling she was seeing the same look in his own eyes. He used the empty road before them as an excuse to turn away. He would examine these frightening, exhilarating feelings later.

Right now, he was starting to get a little nervous about the Easter service he’d volunteered to conduct. In the little they’d talked, he thought they were on the same page as far as their faith. At least she seemed familiar with the concept of an Easter sunrise service. He would know for sure after today. He hadn’t realized until now how much was riding on it though.

He was starting to think Lily O’Neal might be something special. No, he was sure of that. But special to him. And he suspected she felt the same. He was hoping Fudge was the biggest hurdle they’d have to leap. Well, that and the fact that he could barely support himself, let alone a wife. He hoped patience was one of her virtues.

* * *

The warm, rich smell of coffee filled the car as they drove south. Lily sipped from her cup, completely comfortable in the silence between them. There were a few cars on the road, more than she imagined were usually on the road at this early hour on a Sunday morning. She suspected they were headed to sunrise services of their own. Selfishly, she hoped their “service” really would be just the two of them.

She didn’t think she’d ever skipped church on Easter morning before, but after all, the Bible said where two or three were gathered in the name of Jesus, God was right there with them.

The car wobbled a little and Gage tapped the brakes and set the cruise. They settled in at fifty miles per hour. He looked over at her. “I’m afraid we’re not going to make it to where I was hoping to go in time for the sunrise.”

“It’s okay. We can always watch through the windshield.”

“I’m driving as fast as I dare, but I don’t think this spare tire was made for speed.”

“It’s okay, Gage. Really. Better safe than sorry. If you have a flat out here with no spare, I can’t help you.”

“I’ve still got my Triple A card.” He grinned like he’d just won some contest she didn’t know she was participating in.

About twenty minutes past Cape Girardeau, Gage slowed the car, pulled into what looked like a farm field driveway and turned off the car lights. “This isn’t where I had in mind, but I do not want you to have to watch the sunrise from the windshield.”

Lily smiled. It was almost too late. An orange slice of sun sat on the floor of the meadow to the east, growing thicker and brighter by the second.

Gage opened his car door and she did the same. He climbed out and grabbed his guitar and a gray wool blanket from the back seat. “Follow me.”

She almost had to run to keep up with him as he strode across the meadow.

But she’d happily run if it meant more time by this man’s side.