Chapter 29
Simeon rolled his shoulders as he steered toward home, trying to release the tension of the day. It had been a rough one, with a couple who was trying to work through infidelity and a teenager struggling with anxiety and depression. The hardest part had been the fear he’d seen in the mother’s eyes.
It was one of the things about becoming a parent that had always terrified him. But it wasn’t enough to make him give up on the idea of children altogether. It was way too soon to mention adoption to Abigail—first they had to continue to redevelop their relationship, but after that . . .
Simeon pushed away thoughts of the last time they’d talked about it, right before the accident. She’d said she couldn’t adopt.
But that had been the depression and fear talking, he was sure of it. Now that those had improved, she would be eager to adopt.
Unless she doesn’t want kids anymore.
He ignored the worry. She still liked chocolate pie. She’d still want kids.
Simeon snorted at his own logic and tried to turn his thoughts in another direction. They landed where they’d been landing all day—that non-kiss last night.
Her lips had been so close he could almost taste them—he wondered if they still had the faint strawberry flavor of her lip gloss—and then she’d run away.
Be still, he reminded himself as he pulled into their driveway. He needed to be still and let things unfold in God’s timing.
He turned off the car and took a moment to leave the problems of the day out here—something Dad had taught him to do early in his career.
A savory scent drifted through the air, and Simeon pulled in an appreciative breath as he made his way to the front door. One of the neighbors was making something tasty.
He went through a mental inventory of the food in their pantry, trying to figure out what he could make for dinner. He’d never minded being the one to do all the cooking—he kind of enjoyed it, actually—but maybe he’d see if Abigail wanted to join him in the kitchen tonight. As much as he loved their dates, they needed some ordinary, everyday things to connect over as well.
He opened the door, and the cooking scents intensified.
Frowning, he stepped inside. “Abigail?”
“In here.” Her voice came from the kitchen, and Simeon followed it, still trying to figure out why the delicious smells were growing stronger. Had Abigail ordered takeout from somewhere?
He reached the kitchen, and his feet stopped working. Abigail stood in front of the open oven, and she was sliding out a pan covered in what looked like twice baked potatoes.
She turned to set it on the counter, her eyes lighting as they fell on him. “Hi.” Her smile was bright, her cheeks glowing with the heat of the oven. “One second. I think—” She turned back to the oven and pulled another pan out, frowning at it. “I think this is done, right?”
Simeon’s mouth watered as his eyes fell on what looked like some kind of meat wrapped in bacon. “What’s going on? Who made all this?” He managed to pry his feet off the floor and cross the room.
“I did.” She gave him a proud smile and spun to turn the oven off. “Well, Benjamin helped, but . . .”
“You did this?” Simeon asked incredulously.
Abigail laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. It turns out I’m a fast learner when it comes to cooking.”
Simeon shook his head. “It’s not that.” He took another step closer. “It’s— You did this for me?”
Abigail nodded and bit her lip, looking suddenly shy. “You’ve done so much for me, and I just wanted to . . . I don’t know, do something for you.”
Simeon swallowed. “Abigail, that’s—” His eyes fell on her collarbone, and his heart skipped.
Abigail lifted a hand to her neckline, fingering the delicate gold necklace that rested there. “I’m sorry. Should I not have—”
Simeon shook his head, gently hooking a finger under the chain. “I gave this to you for our anniversary last year,” he said quietly. “You definitely should wear it.”
His eyes went to her lips, which spread into a soft smile. He tried to swallow, but he didn’t remember how.
“Abigail.” He let the chain fall and moved his hand to brush her hair off her cheek, relishing the feel of her skin under his fingers. “I know we haven’t been dating again all that long, but—” He ran a finger down the line of her jaw. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”
Abigail startled, and his hand fell from her face. “I’m sorry.” Simeon cleared his throat and took a step backwards. “I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t trying to rush you.” His stupid heart was throwing a tantrum, slamming itself around his chest.
“No, it’s not that.” Abigail was giving him the strangest look, as if she were dazed. “Have you ever said those words before?”
Simeon’s heart stopped its tantrum, stilling completely. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know exactly.” Abigail shook her head, as if trying to work out what she meant. “I just got the weirdest feeling of déjà vu when you said that.”
Simeon nearly shot right up through the ceiling. “I said something along those lines the first time I wanted to kiss you.” He had to work hard to keep his voice steady, to not give away the hope surging through him.
Abigail nodded, and he waited, not daring to take a breath, as if that might scare away the fragile memory.
“And what did I answer?” Abigail asked after a moment.
“You said—” Simeon lifted his hand to her cheek again, letting his palm cup it tenderly. “‘I’ve been waiting for you to ask that.’”
Abigail laughed, her cheekbone lifting under his hand. “That was a good answer.”
Simeon tilted his head but waited. “Is that a yes?”
“It’s a yes,” she whispered.
Simeon resisted the desire to rush in and take her lips in his. He wanted to savor this moment.
He brought his other hand to her neck and let it slide under her hair. Her eyelids fell closed, her lashes dusting her cheeks, and she lifted her face toward him. Letting his own eyes close, he lowered his lips onto hers.
They were as soft as he remembered, as warm, as perfect. Her arms circled his neck, and he pulled her closer, keeping the kiss light, unhurried, undemanding. It had been worth every moment of the wait.
After a moment, he pulled back, wanting to make sure she was still okay with this.
She opened her eyes, her hands sliding from his neck to his biceps and resting there. “Did I— Was that— I mean, did I kiss like . . .”
Simeon rubbed a thumb across her cheekbones with a chuckle. “You kiss like you, Abigail. It was perfect.”
“Okay. Good.” She bit her lip, and he couldn’t resist leaning forward and pressing his lips there again.
She responded instantly, her lips yielding easily. He had no idea how much time went by before she pulled back with a gasped, “I almost forgot about the food.”
“Right. The food,” he murmured, bending to touch his lips to hers again.
“Simeon.” She pushed a gentle hand to his chest but deepened the kiss before pulling back again. “Benjamin would kill me if we didn’t eat this.”
“He never has to know.” Simeon slid a wayward piece of hair behind her ear.
She laughed but shook her head and turned to the counter.
“All right,” Simeon grumbled. “I’ll eat, but on one condition.” He caught her hand and pulled her back into his chest.
“What’s that?” Abigail sounded as breathless as he felt.
“We kiss some more after dinner,” he said into her hair.
“I think I can live with that.” She turned and popped a light kiss onto his lips before moving to the counter to grab the meat. Simeon eyed it. Everything looked delicious, but he was pretty sure this was going to be the fastest meal he’d ever eaten.