“Do you want another burrito? Or half of one?”

Gage ate appreciatively, nodding and making little sounds of pleasure as he tasted each new thing. It was fun to cook for a man like that.

“Another half would be awesome,” he replied over a bite of fruit. “If you have enough.”

“There’s plenty. Don’t hold back.”

He laughed. “Believe me, I’m not holding back. Everything is great.”

Motion from the hallway made Lily look up.

Fudge crept around the corner, watching them warily. At that exact moment, Gage sneezed.

Lily gasped, scraped her chair back, and scrambled to get the cat before he could hop up into Gage’s lap. “Fudge! How did you get out? I’m so sorry,” she told Gage.

He swiped at his face with a napkin and sneezed again.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back.” She lugged the cat downstairs and put him back in the family room. The door must not have latched completely. She scratched Fudge under the chin and whispered a warning. “You stay in here, buddy. Don’t you dare mess this up for me.”

She washed her hands in the downstairs bathroom and checked her hair in the mirror before heading back up.

“Are you okay?” she asked, slipping back into her chair.

Gage held up the pepper shaker. “Don’t blame poor Fudge for that one. I think I breathed in pepper.” He sneezed again.

“Are you sure? Here, let me get you some more juice.” She rose again and went for the juice.

He let her fill his glass and chugged it. “I’m really fine. I think it was just the pepper.”

“Are you allergic to pepper too? Or…anything else?” What if she’d fed him something that made him sick? Or worse?

“Believe it or not, cats are the only thing I’m allergic to. And like I said, if I just don’t touch him—and then touch my face—I’m fine. Really. Kind of like pepper… As long as I don’t inhale, I’m fine.”

She studied him. The way he’d said it made her think he was reading her mind…that he knew she was wondering if Fudge really would ruin their friendship. After all, if the man swelled up like a toad every time he came to see her, how appealing could that be? And what if she touched Fudge and then touched him—

Stop it, O’Neal. You only wish… But he had touched her. In the car when he’d stroked her cheek with such tenderness. It probably meant nothing to him, but even now, her cheeks heated at the memory.

As if sensing her discomfort, Gage looked around the kitchen and pulled a topic out of the proverbial hat. “So tell me the story behind your business. You’re awfully young to be running your own business. In a house like this…”

“It started out as my mom’s business. She’d done wedding cakes and some catering for years. But just part-time. When I went off to college, she and Dad remodeled the kitchen and she ran the bakery for about a year. When I came home that summer, I helped out and”—she shrugged—“found out I loved it.”

“Well, you’re good at it, that’s for sure.” He stuffed the last bite of burrito into his mouth as if to prove he meant it. “But your parents? Where are they now?”

She told him how they’d felt led to work with the orphanage in Haiti after the woman who’d founded it passed away. “I think Mom wondered at first why they’d sunk so much money into remodeling the kitchen and starting the business. I mean, with the catering business going, they paid for the remodel that first year. And then when they saw how much I loved it, Dad said maybe it was God’s plan all along for them get everything set up for me—even though they didn’t know that at the time.”

“That’s really cool. So this is like your dream career then.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” She hesitated. She didn’t want to be dishonest with him, but it seemed a tad early to reveal that the real dream of her heart involved a husband and half a dozen kids. “I love what I do. I guess I just—”

Her cell phone rang from the desk on the other side of the kitchen. Saved by the bell.

“Sorry.” She hurried to answer it. She stared at the display. Mom. Of course. She’d talked to her parents last night because Mom was all worried about her head. Why were they calling again? She loved talking to them, but their timing couldn’t have been worse. She held her finger over the phone. “Um…speaking of my parents, this is them. On FaceTime. I probably should take it…”

“Oh.” He scooted his chair back. “Do I need to go?”

“Oh, no. That’s not what I meant. I just wondered, how would you feel about…meeting them?”

“Meeting them?”

“Just on FaceTime.” His deer-in-the-headlights expression made her add quickly, “You don’t have to.”

He hesitated. “It’s okay. I’ll just…” He hooked a thumb toward the front door.

“No, no…I can have them call back.” But she’d have to come up with an excuse why. She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk to them about Gage yet anyway. Who knew where this was headed? She hoped… Oh, how she hoped. But it was too soon to tell them that.

“Go ahead and take it.” Gage scooted his chair back and started through the kitchen, but he came back and scooped a cinnamon roll from the pan with one hand. He winked. “One for the road. I’ll call you.”

“Oh. Don’t leave. You don’t have to go, Gage.” Her phone jangled again. She looked from him to the phone and back again, desperate to keep him here.

Holding the sticky cinnamon roll away from her, he leaned and planted a light kiss on her forehead, near where the stitches were. “It’s Easter. You should talk to your family. I’ll call you later. Breakfast was amazing.”

She heard the front door close and stood in the middle of the kitchen with her mouth open, overwhelmed with disappointment that the day—and their date—had ended so abruptly. And it wasn’t even nine a.m.

Had Gage just been waiting for an excuse to make a quick exit? She’d thought things were going so well. Maybe he was desperate to get away from the cat dander.

Her phone rang again. She gave a little growl and jabbed at the screen. “Hello.”

“Ooh… Is somebody grumpy?” her mom said.

“Did we wake you, sleepyhead?” Her dad’s comical face came in focus on the FaceTime screen. Mom appeared over his shoulder.

“No, I’m up. I’ve been up since—”

“I know you’re probably getting ready for church, but we just wanted to wish you a happy Easter.” Mom squinted and leaned in to the camera. “Is that what you’re wearing to church?”

She couldn’t help laughing. As long as Lily could remember, Mom had always insisted she have a new outfit for Easter. “No… Actually, I’ve already been to Easter sunrise service.”

“Oh, how nice. The sun’s been up for a while here, but it was a pretty sunrise.” Mom turned the phone out toward the scenery and panned the orphanage compound. There were no children in sight like there usually were. They must be in Sunday school already. But half a dozen chickens strutted in the grassless yard, and she heard a rooster crow in the distance.

“How’s your head this morning?” Dad took the phone and turned the camera on himself, leaning in the way her mom had.

“It’s not bad at all.” Lily pushed her bangs back to reveal her stitches, remembering the gentle touch of Gage’s lips on her temple only moments ago.

“Well, I’m sorry we weren’t there to help you, sweetheart. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt any worse. We miss you.”

“I miss you guys too.” I just wish you’d waited a few hours to call and tell me that.

“Where’s my Fudge kitty this morning?” Mom scanned the room behind Lily.

“Oh. He’s downstairs. Hang on and I’ll go get him.”

“I’m surprised he’d be down there when you’re upstairs,” Mom said. “He used to follow me from room to room.”

“I remember. He usually hangs pretty close, but I put him downstairs. I didn’t want him in the way while we…while I was cooking.”

“I thought you’d finished all your baking before we talked last night.”

If she didn’t know better, Lily would have thought her mom was suspicious. “I did. But I made cinnamon rolls for breakfast.”

Dad gave a little moan. “Oh man, cinnamon rolls? With that good maple frosting you make? Now I really miss you.”

Lily laughed. “Here you want to look at them?”

“Now that’s just mean,” Dad teased. “But yeah, let me have a look.”

Lily swept the phone from the table to the kitchen counter where the pan of rolls sat.

“Good grief, it looks like they’re half gone. Did you eat all those?”

Lily moved the phone’s camera quickly off the rolls, willing her face to un-flush before the camera focused.

“Oh, good! You got the lily we sent!” Dad pointed on the screen. “They told us it might not get there until Monday.”

Lily frowned and pulled the phone closer. “You sent a lily?”

Her dad looked confused. “Yes. Wasn’t that it I saw on the table?”

“Oh. Um… No, actually a friend brought…gave me that one. It’s a Stargazer.” She turned the camera on the lily because there was no doubt her face was as pink as the lily’s petals right now.

“Did you see that, Beth?” She could picture her dad pulling Mom beside him.

“Oh? That’s not the one we sent?” Mom’s voice held confusion.

“No, Lily said a friend gave it to her. Lily? You still there?”

“I’m here,” she said, keeping the camera trained on the Stargazer.

“Oh, that is beautiful!” her mother said. “Well, you should have one coming from us tomorrow, but I think it’ll just be a plain white Easter lily. I should have called the florist earlier. Now, who did you say you got that one from?”

“A friend. Hey, let me go get Fudge. I’ll be right back.”

“No, don’t worry about it, honey.” Chapel bells rang in the background and Mom looked over her shoulder toward the brick building behind them, Hope Cottage. “I’ll see Fudge when we talk next week. Church is about to start here, so we’d better run. Love you.”

“Love you guys too. ’Bye.”

Dad clicked off and the phone went black.

Lily breathed out a sigh. Saved by the bell once more. Chapel bells this time. Which made her feel all the more guilty about evading her parents’ questions.

Lily plugged her phone in. She wanted to be sure it was good and charged when Gage called later today.

If he called. She wasn’t sure why, but she had a bad feeling about the way he’d left.

She halfway wished she’d just told her parents about him. Usually there wasn’t anything she couldn’t talk to them about. Of course, she hadn’t been on a date since they’d moved to Haiti, so Gage would have been big news. Huge news. And she wasn’t sure how they would have felt about her having him here at the house. So early in the morning. Almost like he’d stayed the night.

No, it was probably best she hadn’t said anything. She’d tell Mom and Dad about him eventually.

If there turned out to be anything to tell.