Chapter 27
Simeon could not stop staring at his wife. The last couple of weeks had been incredible. They’d gone on dates, taken long walks, and talked and talked and talked.
And somehow, every single day, he fell more and more in love with her.
“It’s beautiful here.” Abigail brushed a piece of wind-blown hair off her cheek as she gazed over the panorama of River Falls below the pizza place’s patio.
“Yes, it is.”
“Simeon.” Abigail sounded exasperated, but her cheeks took on a warm glow. “You’re not even looking at the view.”
“I have the best view in the house.”
Abigail shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Thanks.” He grinned and instinctively reached across the table. It wasn’t until his hand was halfway to hers that he realized what he was doing. He paused with his hand in midair.
“How was everything tonight?” A bubbly waitress popped up next to them, holding out the check. Simeon had no choice but to divert his hand and take it.
“It was delicious.” Abigail smiled graciously at the waitress, and Simeon was grateful she’d beaten him to answering. His own response might not have been as civil, given that the woman had interrupted his first attempt to hold hands with his wife in weeks.
He pulled out his credit card, then contemplated reaching for Abigail’s hand again as they waited for the waitress to bring it back. But she had tucked her hands into her lap—intentionally avoiding his hand or not, he couldn’t tell.
“So, you liked it?” Simeon asked.
“It was delicious.” Abigail smiled. “Do I have any pizza sauce on my face?”
Simeon shook his head, almost wishing she did so he’d have an excuse to touch her.
The waitress brought the credit card back, and Simeon slid out his chair, reluctant to end the date.
“Should we get some pie on the way home?”
Abigail groaned. “You really don’t want me to fit into any of my clothes anymore, do you?” Her cheeks flushed. “I mean—” She blew a breath that fluttered her hair. “Pie sounds good.”
Simeon chuckled to himself, wishing he could tell her how attracted he was to every single one of her curves. Instead, he silently moved to her side of the table. She stood as well, and they walked side by side around the restaurant.
Abigail’s hand brushed against his, and Simeon moved his arm out of the way. But her fingers brushed his again. Simeon glanced her way, and she offered a soft smile.
Well then. What was he waiting for?
Simeon slid his fingers between hers, his breath catching as hers tightened around them. He never wanted to let go again.
But too soon they were standing next to their vehicle, and he couldn’t figure out how to get them both into it without letting go.
He lifted their hands between them, the wedding ring he still wore standing out against the ridges of their knuckles. “If I let go now, can I have this hand back when I get in?”
Abigail laughed. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
“Or we could stand here all night so I don’t have to risk it.” He took a step closer so that their bent arms were the only things separating them. His gaze went to her lips, their smile beckoning.
He took a step backwards and let out a breath. He had to take this slowly. Like he’d just met her.
With his free hand, he reached past her to open the passenger door, then lifted her hand to his lips, dusting a quick kiss across the back of it. Reluctantly, he let go. As soon as Abigail was settled in her seat, he rushed around to his side of the vehicle and jumped in.
Before he could even ask if he could hold her hand again, she was holding hers out to him.
They drove hand in hand to Daisy’s, but when they got there, Simeon spotted a familiar figure through the pie shop’s big windows. He’d only had one appointment with Wendy since she’d confessed her feelings for him—and it had been fine. They’d discussed the fact that one of the reasons she’d likely developed feelings for him was that she knew he was unavailable. But that didn’t mean he wanted to run into her in public. Besides, he didn’t really feel like sharing Abigail with anyone else right now. “How about getting our pie to go?”
“That sounds nice.” The smile in her voice sent Simeon’s heart flying.
He pulled up to the drive-through, waiting for Abigail to scan the menu. Last time they were here, she’d said she was going to try a different kind every time until she found her new favorite.
“I think I’ll try pecan today,” she said.
Simeon bit his tongue before he could tell her that she’d once said she didn’t understand desserts with nuts in them. He ordered himself a piece of chocolate cream pie that he could trade with her if she didn’t like the pecans.
When they got home, they walked side by side to the front door, and Simeon almost wished he were dropping her off, since that would make it natural to kiss her goodnight. Instead, he unlocked the door and waited for her to enter in front of him.
“Do you want to eat our pie under the stars?” Maybe it was corny, but it sounded more romantic than the same kitchen table they ate at every day.
“Outside?” Abigail sounded surprised.
“Well, I mean, I could tape some stars on the ceiling in here, but yeah, I was thinking outside.”
Her laugh traveled all the way through him. “Sure. Let’s eat under the stars.”
“Okay. Hold on one second. I’ll be right back.” He handed her the bag of pie and raced up the stairs, heading straight for the bedroom. The trunk at the bottom of the bed held extra blankets, and he chose two large ones, then ran back downstairs.
“Abigail?” He looked around the empty entry area.
“In here.” Her voice came from the kitchen. “Just getting us some drinks.” She’d placed a pitcher of sweet tea and two glasses on the tray that he’d used to bring her breakfast in bed. She scooped the slices of pie out of their clamshell containers and put them on plates, then added those to the tray.
“Good idea.” He moved to pick up the tray, letting her open the patio door.
He led her to the middle of the yard, then set the tray down to spread one of the blankets on the ground, setting the other one to the side in case they got cold.
He grabbed her hand, relishing the easy way her fingers instantly wrapped around his, and pulled her to the middle of the blanket. “Sit.”
She did, and he lowered himself next to her. He reached to the side and lifted the tray, relocating it between them, not only for easy access to the tea and pie but as a barrier to keep himself from wrapping her in his arms as his whole body screamed for him to do.
Slowly, he reminded himself, pouring them each a glass of tea. He held his glass up. “To new beginnings.”
Abigail clinked her glass to his, and they each took a drink, then picked up their slices of pie. Simeon watched Abigail take the first bite of hers, trying not to hope she’d hate it. It didn’t matter if she felt the same way about pecan pie as she used to.
She chewed slowly, swallowed, then took a long drink of tea.
“How is it?” he asked.
“It’s . . . okay.” She stabbed another forkful, making a face as she pushed it into her mouth.
Simeon chuckled. “Really?”
She shook her head and took another long drink of tea. “Definitely not my favorite. Whose idea was it to make a pie entirely of nuts?”
Simeon’s heart jumped at the familiar words, but he was careful to keep his expression neutral.
“Here.” He took the plate out of her hands and held his out to her. “Try this one instead.”
She gave him a wary look. “This is yours.”
He shook his head. “Now it’s yours.”
“Simeon—”
“Just try it.” He scooped up a giant bite of the pecan pie and stuffed it in his mouth. “This one’s mine now.”
She shook her head but slid her fork into the chocolate cream pie. The way she closed her eyes when it hit her tongue pulled a joyful laugh from Simeon.
“This one is definitely a contender,” Abigail said, cutting off another piece.
“Good. Because I really wanted this pecan pie.” Simeon polished off the rest of it in four bites. Abigail was still working on his slice of chocolate pie, and watching her lick her lips to get a dollop of the silky filling was driving him crazy with the desire to kiss her, so he lay back on the blanket. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust so he could pick out the stars starting to appear in the dark canopy above.
Next to him, he heard Abigail set her plate on the tray. Shuffling indicated that she had lain down too, but he didn’t let himself turn to look at her—because if he did, he might be tempted to shove that tray out of the way and cozy up next to her.
He did allow himself to reach around the tray to seek her hand, though.
She curled her fingers in his, and he closed his eyes, thanking God for this moment.
“Oh, I see one.” The surprised delight in Abigail’s voice made Simeon open his eyes. “And another. And another. Oh wait, that one’s a plane.”
Simeon chuckled and squeezed her hand tighter. “There will be more soon, don’t worry.”
They watched the sky silently for a while, until Abigail asked, “Do we do this often?”
“We’ve never done this before,” Simeon answered honestly. They’d certainly admired the stars together when they’d happened to be outside at night, but they’d never just lain on a blanket and looked up at the sky together, though Simeon couldn’t for the life of him imagine why.
The soft darkness, the low serenade of crickets, the light floral scent of the magnolias—everything about being out here with her was perfect.
Abigail’s hand jerked out of his suddenly, and she smacked at her neck.
“Sorry. Bug.” She scratched at the spot, but then moved her hand to slap her leg.
Thatwas probably why they didn’t do this more often. Although mosquitoes generally left him alone, they ate Abigail alive.
He should suggest that they go inside.
His eyes fell on the extra blanket next to them. “Hold on. I have an idea.”
He started to pull the blanket over them, but the tray was in the way—and if he covered it with the blanket, chances were good that one or both of them would end up drenched in sweet tea.
Not letting himself consider whether or not it was a good idea, he picked up the tray and moved it to his far side, then lay back and pulled the blanket up to their chins, making sure to leave the same amount of space between them as if the tray were still there.
But when he reached for Abigail’s hand, she was closer than he’d expected. Simeon swallowed. The evening was way too warm for this blanket, and her body heat radiated toward him. But there was no way he was going to move a muscle.
“Can I ask you something?” Abigail’s voice joined the melody of the night.
“Of course.”
“What made you decide to become a counselor?”
“Oh.” Simeon blinked up at the stars.
Abigail was the only one he’d ever told the full reason he’d become a counselor. To others, he always said it was because he liked helping people work through their problems by guiding them with God’s Word. Which was true. But the deeper reason was much harder.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Abigail said softly. “I just thought—”
“No.” Simeon squeezed her hand. “I want to tell you.” He turned his head to find her watching him, her chin peeking out from under the blanket.
“When I was seventeen,” he started, “I had this friend, Steve, who was going through a hard time.”
Abigail nodded, her gaze too full of compassion. He turned his eyes starward again. “I tried to be there for him, tried to listen to him, you know? But sometimes it all got to be a little . . . much. Anyway, one night I ignored his call. I figured I’d see him the next day at school.” Simeon broke off, the stars above him seeming to blink on and off. Why hadn’t he taken that stupid call?
Abigail’s hand touched his arm under the blanket, and he realized she was waiting for him to finish the story.
He let out a breath. “He didn’t come to school the next day.” He swallowed. “Because he took his own life that night.”
Abigail’s gasp broke through the quiet of the night. “Oh, Simeon. I’m so sorry.”
Simeon shook his head, the hard dirt under the blanket pressing against his skull. “Me too. Anyway, it made me realize that I never wanted to be in a situation like that again, where I didn’t know how to help someone who was struggling like that.” He refused to mention that not knowing how to help her had given him some of those same feelings all over again. But at least now it felt like they were moving forward from that.
Or at least they had been, until he’d totally subdued the mood of their date.
“I’m sorry.” He turned to her with a rueful smile. “I didn’t mean to ruin our date with that story.”
“You didn’t ruin it.” Abigail’s hand rubbed his arm, leaving a trail of heat behind. “If anything, I feel . . .” She glanced away, as if searching for what to say. “Closer to you.” Her eyes came to his, and Simeon swallowed. His pulse pounded against his throat the way it had the first time he’d kissed her.
“Abigail,” he said hoarsely.
He rolled onto his side just in time to spot a giant mosquito feasting on her cheek. He brought his hand up to shoo it away, but another immediately took its place.
“Come on.” He sat up quickly but reluctantly, pulling her up with him. “Let’s get you inside before the mosquitoes carry you away.”
He stood, then held out his hands to her. She took them, and he tugged her easily to her feet. There were only a few inches between them now.
His eyes locked on hers. Did she want to kiss him as badly as he wanted to kiss her?
Her hand shot into the space between them, swatting at yet another mosquito.
Simeon released a breath.
Kissing while being swarmed by mosquitoes wasn’t exactly romantic.
“Go inside.” He gave her a gentle push toward the house. “I’ll clean up and be right in.”
“I can help.” She slapped a hand to the back of her neck.
“I don’t think you can. Mosquitoes have always found you delicious. Not that I blame them.”
Okay, maybe that had been too far.
But Abigail laughed and took off for the house.
Simeon gathered the blankets and tray as quickly as he could and followed, hoping against hope that he’d find her waiting inside to pick up where they’d left off.
It took a little juggling to get the door open with his full hands, but when he finally managed, she was nowhere in sight.
“Abigail?” he called.
When there was no answer, he set the tray and blankets on the table, then headed for the front of the house. But the living room was empty, and the lights above the stairway were on. His heart folded in on itself. She must have gone to bed.
Because she’d sensed that he wanted to kiss her and she wasn’t ready?
He went back to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and turned off the lights. He may as well go to bed too, though there was no way he’d be able to sleep with the electrical charge from being so close to her still coursing through him.
He made his way up the stairs, sighing as he spotted the closed bedroom door.
“Hey.” Abigail popped her head out just as he reached his office.
“Hey.” He tried not to sound disappointed. If she wasn’t ready to kiss him yet, she wasn’t ready. He wasn’t going to make her feel bad about it.
She opened the door farther, and he caught sight of the sleep shirt and leggings that hugged the curve of her hips.
“I just wanted to say thanks.” She slid her bare toes back and forth across the floor. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such a special date. I mean, that I remember.”
Simeon chuckled. “Me neither.”
“Really?” She looked doubtful, but he nodded. They’d certainly had fancier dates and more adventurous dates and even more romantic dates. But somehow, tonight had felt more special than any of those.
“Well.” Abigail watched her toe sliding along a crack in the floorboards. “I think I’m going to get some sleep. See you in the morning.”
That was right. He’d wake up in the morning and get to see her again. “See you in the morning. Sleep well.”
She nodded and closed the door, and Simeon stood staring at it, allowing himself to imagine the day when he’d sleep next to her again.
For weeks, he had been afraid it might never happen.
But now— Now he had hope.