Page 113 of A Love Like Candle Light

“Fuck,” I gasp out through giggles once I catch my breath. “I needed that.”

“As did I.”

I lift my chin for a kiss, and he happily obliges. “I'm glad you came here,” I mumble against his lips and run my fingers through his hair.

“I'm glad I came here too.” Another kiss. “Come on. Let's get the food ready. I'm starving.”

Chapter 39

Erik

“Aunt Molly!” I shout into her house, subconsciously rubbing my chest. There is no reply, but a ray of light and faint music come from her art room.

I don't want to disturb her, and maybe I’m glad for every minute I get to delay our conversation, so I make a beeline for her kitchen and start her coffee machine. If she’s not here, she can’t shoo me away.

She has one of those fully automatic coffee machines, and her coffee always turns out way better than mine at home. The sound of beans grinding seems to be what pulls her out of what I lovingly call her art trance. A few minutes later, she enters the kitchen, her blue checkered shirt stained with paint and a paintbrush tucked behind her ear.

My heart is thundering in my chest, fingertips anxiously drumming against her kitchen countertop. Fuck, I’m nervous.

“Erik.” She opens her arms and, damn the coffee or the paint on her shirt, I step into them for a hug.

“It's good to see you, Aunt Molly.”

“Is everything alright?” Damn her and her great intuition.

“Yeah, everything's great.” Once my coffee is done, she retrieves a cup from her cupboards and starts the machine right back up again for one on her own. “What are you painting?”

“I have a few commission pieces to finish up.”

“Sorry, is now not a good time?” I ask, though it's more out of politeness than anything.

“When is there ever the perfect time?” She shrugs, grabs her mug, and sits down at the kitchen table with me. I tap my fingers against the top of her table, staring at the bee magnet on her fridge. “You’re scaring me a little, Erik. What's going on?”

I stare at her, and suddenly all of my words are stuck in my throat.

“We found her,” I choke out, holding onto the edge of the table to keep my fingers from trembling. “Alive.”

She keeps staring at me with the same little smile playing at her lips, not moving a muscle. My heart sinks. Did I imagine saying it? Did she not hear me?

“What?” she stammers, color draining from her face.

“I found Lilith.”

Her entire face scrunches as tears spring into her eyes and she covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh my God. Really?”

“She goes by Maya now. I saw her, but I haven't talked to her about the whole, you know, kidnapping thing. So don't get your hopes up too soon, but she's alive and, from what I can tell, she's well.”

A tear rolls down her cheek. “Oh my God,” she repeats, her voice breaking. “She's alive.” She jumps up, rounds the table to throw her arms around me with a sobbing laughter. “She's alive.” I hug her back awkwardly, still sitting down. “I knew you could do it.”

She grabs my face with both of her hands, smooshes my cheeks together, and kisses my forehead.

“Oh, you wonderful child. Thank you for not giving up!”

By the time she sits back down, our coffees have gone cold.

“It was Kylie, actually,” I reveal in a whisper. “I found Lilith thanks to her.”

“I like your girlfriend more and more.” My eyes widen. “Don't look so shocked,” she says with a smile and takes a sip of her coffee. Then she grimaces. “I saw you at the fair. And when you asked me to make the pizza rolls, it was obvious you were trying to impress her.”