Page 105 of Not Until I Found You

She smirks up at me, an idea sparking to life behind her eyes. “Have you ever wanted to dance in the rain like they do in romantic movies?”

“I don’t know about dancing but what about kissing?”

The rain drums around us like the world is trying to drown out everything except this, and I close the last inch between us and press my mouth to hers.

I kiss her softly, slowly, pouring into it everything I still don’t know how to say out loud. Her fingers curl into my shirt as though she’s finally letting herself trust what we’ve both been fighting. We pull each other closer until there’s no space left between us, her chest rising and falling against mine, our breaths falling into the same rhythm, like we’ve both finally stopped resisting where God has been leading us all along.

Every shaky exhale she gives me feels like another piece of her trust, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving it’s safe with me. She pulls away first, sighing as she does, and the sound rockets down my spine. I stay where I am, forehead hovering close to hers, rain sliding down the back of my neck, not trusting myself to move yet. My hands find her face, thumbs brushing the rain from her cheeks.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she admits, her fingers sliding over my hair.

“I haven’t.” I chuckle and lean in to kiss the tip of her nose. “I’m not sure if you remember, but I don’t really like storms.”

“And yet, here you are, kissing me in one.”

“Like I’ve told you before,” I say softly, brushing my thumb along her jaw, “I’d do anything for you.”

Her eyes drag down to my mouth then flick up again, appearing darker than I’ve seen them before. I have to swallow against the groan that rumbles inside of me. Another crack of thunder shoots through the sky, shocking me back into reality.

“We should probably head inside.”

She nods and threads her fingers through mine, and we race for the cabin. We laugh as rain continues to soak through our clothes, our shoes squelching against the porch boards. Inside, water drips onto my wooden floors, a small puddle beginning to form beneath us. Sven immediately trots over and starts licking it up, his tail wagging happily. We look down at our rain-plastered clothes, then at each other, and burst out laughing.

“I’m going to take my clothes off.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“Only my shirt and shorts so I don’t drip water all throughout my house. Just turn around.” I chuckle, shaking my head at her. “Unless you want to watch.”

She spins around instantly, hands flying up to cover her eyes. “I’m absolutely not watching,” she insists, though the tips of her cheeks turn pink. “Not because I don’t want to but…” She pauses. “Actually, I’m just going to stop talking now.”

I laugh as I peel off my clothes as fast as I can, my shorts and socks clinging to me like a second skin. I dump them on the mat before I jog down the hall to grab towels.

When I return, I hand her one and say, “You can turn around now.”

She peeks through her fingers. “Are you decent?”

“Define decent.”

She turns around, and her eyes do this slow, unguarded sweep of me that makes heat rush through my veins. A towel hangs low on my hips, droplets of water dripping down my chest. I swear her gaze lingers everywhere, an awareness following in its path, setting my nerves on edge.

“Let me grab you some of my clothes.” My voice cracks at the edges, and I swallow around it. “To wear.”

“Yeah…” She nods her head a few times. “That’d be good.”

I make a beeline for my bedroom, because if I don’t put some space between us, I might do something I’ll regret. I want to take things slow and make the right choices with Maxinne. God didn’t bring us this far for me to start chasing my own desires instead of trusting His timing.

After tossing on my own clothes, I grab her a pair of my sweatpants that might fit her—if she rolls the band a few times—and one of my old t-shirts. When I hand it to her, she unfolds it and studies the picture of a raccoon.

“Stay trashy?” she reads out loud, cocking a brow, a smirk tugging her lips.

I shrug. “What? It’s my favorite shirt.”

“Makes sense since you love raccoons so much.” She chuckles as she makes her way into my bathroom, closing the door behind her.

I busy myself by going into the kitchen and grabbing the pizza dough in my fridge that I put together before we left for the hike. As I search my kitchen for toppings, the door to the bathroom opens and out walks Maxinne. Surprisingly, my sweatpants seem to fit her okay, and my favorite shirt almost reaches the tops of her knees. She’s pulled her wet hair into a braid that lies over her left shoulder.

Even like this, she’s breathtaking.