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When they finally broke the kiss, her lips were swollen and reddened—and she’d never looked more beautiful. “I got the job?” she whispered.
“You got the job,” he confirmed.
“Then it doesn’t matter who sees us kissing right now?”
“Not at all. Unless your neighbors simply enjoy a show.”
She giggled and pulled him to her for a second kiss. “All right,” she said softly against his lips. “How do we start this?”
“You could invite me in for dinner....” A slow grin crept across her face and caused him to ask, “What’s that for? You don’t eat?”
“I don’t cook.”
He matched her smile. “Then you’re one lucky woman. I’m an excellent cook. Show me what I have to work with and I’ll knock your socks off.”
She laughed and grasped his hand to lead him inside. There were pictures of her son everywhere, just the way a normal house with children should. He smiled privately when the anticipated painful zing was merely an echo of what it used to be and he knew for certain he was ready.
“Talen,” Miranda called to her son, who was watching television. “Come here, buddy. I’d like you to meet a special friend of mine. Talen, this is Jeremiah.”
Talen, a striking dark-haired boy, regarded Jeremiah with intelligent coal-black eyes. “Nice to meet you, Jeremiah,” he said. “Are you here to have pizza with us?”
Jeremiah looked to Miranda and smiled. “I have a better idea.... How about we see what’s in your kitchen and you can help me whip something up.”
“I don’t know how to cook,” Talen said.
“You don’t know until you know.... Would you like to learn?”
A slow smile crept across his young face and he nodded vigorously. As they headed to the kitchen, Jeremiah sent a warm look to Miranda as he mouthed, “I love you.”
And his heart soared when she mouthed it back.
