A woman in her twenties with brown hair in two braids worked behind the counter, making a key. An older man in blue coveralls with a large belly waited. The clerk made eye contact with Cynthia but did not speak—she just smiled and went back to her task. Cynthia wandered down the aisle and pretended to inspect yard sale signs when she heard Rick’s voice coming from the back of the store. She followed the sound and found him chatting with an older man packing a box of PVC piping.

He must have heard her approach because he glanced in her direction and stopped speaking midsentence. Almost instantly, a grin covered his face, lighting up his eyes. She bit her lip and stepped forward. Before she knew what happened, they had moved toward each other and his arms came around her.

For a moment, she just stood there, wrapped up in his strong arms, her cheek resting on his chest. She closed her eyes and relished the feel of him. Then she stepped back slightly and looked up at him. He brushed his fingers down her cheek, his gaze roaming over her face. When his eyes met hers, her breath caught in the back of her throat. His face had a serious expression, his eyes burning with emotion she couldn’t define.

She opened her mouth to say something nonsensical like, “Surprise.” But before a sound could escape, his lips covered hers.

Everything around them dissolved into nothing save the feel of his soft lips, the brush of his rough hands, the smell of his skin. She stepped forward even more, tilted her head, stood on her toes—anything to get as close to him as possible. Her fingers ran through his short hair, brushed over his ears. She pressed her hands against his cheeks, the rough stubble tickling her palms.

He gripped the back of her head, stilling her. He slowly lifted his lips from hers and pressed his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, tried to catch her breath, and with every intake of air, she smelled his aftershave. Her head spun, and she licked her lips.

“I was worried you didn’t really mean to invite me, that you didn’t want me here in your safe place,” she whispered.

“There’s absolutely nothing I ever wanted more.” He turned. She remembered the man he’d been speaking to and felt heat rush over her face.

The man stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, one shoulder leaning against the shelf, just grinning.

“Dad, this is Doctor Cynthia Myers. Cynthia, my father, Harold.”

His father? What must he think of her? She put on her best smile and held out her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Well,” Harold said, “this is definitely a nice surprise.” He shook her hand and then slapped Rick on the shoulder. “You go on now. I’ll see you later.”