Page 97 of When Love Takes Root

When I stepped back, I didn’t go far.

She wiped beneath her eyes with both hands and gave a shaky laugh. “I look a mess.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Josiah.”

“You look like a woman who told the truth and survived it.”

Her lips trembled into a smile. “That’s your way of saying I look a mess.”

“No, ma’am. If I thought that, I’d be asking God for wisdom and saying nothing.”

She laughed for real then, and the sound loosened the last of the fear pressing against my chest.

I picked up my tool bag from the floor and forced myself to remember why I had come. “I need to check the panel before I leave.”

She blinked. “You can think about electrical work right now?”

“No.” I walked backward toward the hall, keeping my eyes on hers longer than necessary. “But I’m trying to remain employable and holy.”

Her laugh followed me.

That laugh.

Lord.

I reached the back wall, set down my bag, and looked at the labeled wires, the opened panel, the bones of a building being made safe—one connection at a time. Behind me, Celeste moved around the front of the shop, gathering receipts, locking cabinets, pretending she wasn’t touching her lips every few seconds.

I pretended not to notice.

I noticed everything.

And as I checked each connection, tightened what needed tightening, and tested the circuits until the readings held steady, I kept one request moving beneath my breath.

Patience, God.

Not distance.

Not fear.

Patience.

Because something had started between us, and I didn’t want to mishandle it. I didn’t want to rush it into a shape it wasn’t ready to hold. I didn’t want to make promises with my mouth and contradict them with my hands. Celeste Coleman was not a prize for my ego. She was a woman with roots, babies, memories, a dead husband who still mattered, and a heart brave enough to kiss me while still trembling.

She deserved more than attraction. She deserved covering.

When I finished, she walked me to the front door. For a few seconds, neither of us reached for words. We didn’t have to. Everything we’d said before the kiss still stood there with us, warming the air and changing the shape of everything.

At the door, she looked up at me. “So what now?”

I smiled. “Now you text your children the real update.”

Her eyes widened. “Josiah.”

“Not all the details,” I said, laughing. “Please spare Kayden my life. But no more hiding.”

She groaned. “He’s going to be dramatic.”