Page 118 of When Love Takes Root

Josiah:

It is.

By noon, I’d checked two job sites, approved payroll, handled a supplier who suddenly remembered how to answer the phone once I stopped sounding polite, and ordered groceries like I had five children coming with her instead of one woman I was trying not to scare with the size of my attention.

I grabbed salmon, fresh herbs, hibiscus tea, her favorite creamer, and enough snacks to stock an elementary school pantry.

A man didn’t need a full pantry for children who’d never stepped inside his house.

Still, I bought snacks.

That evening, my house smelled like lemon, garlic, rosemary, and nerves I refused to name. I wiped down the counter twice, checked the salmon once too often.

At 6:58, headlights swept across my front windows.

My body knew before the doorbell rang.

I opened the door.

Celeste stood on my porch in jeans, a cream sweater that slipped off one shoulder just enough to test my entire upbringing, and sandals that showed off toes painted deep purple. Her locs fell over one shoulder, red and brown and copper beneath the porch light, thick enough to make a man remember God had never been lazy with beauty. She held her purse in both hands, nervous but trying to look casual, and the sight of her on my porch made the evening go still.

“Celeste.”

Her eyes traveled over me before settling back on my face.

“Josiah.”

“You look beautiful.”

She glanced down like the compliment had touched her before she gave it permission. “Thank you.”

I stepped back. “Come in.”

She crossed the threshold, and I closed the door behind her. Her gaze moved through the house, taking in the brown floors, cream walls, bookshelves, and framed photos before stopping on the console table.

She stepped closer to the picture of my father. “This is your daddy?”

I nodded. “Jeremiah Brooks.”

“You favor him.”

“I get that a lot.”

She smiled softly at the photo. “He had kind eyes.”

I looked at Pops, then back at her. “Serious hands, kind eyes.”

“That sounds like a good combination.”

“It was.”

Her stomach made a small sound before the moment could get any heavier. Celeste closed her eyes. “Please don’t.”

I laughed. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You laughed with your soul.”

“I’m glad you’re hungry.”