“Take the job in St. Louis, Zeke.”

His face went blank. “What?”

“Take the job.”

Several seconds passed as he absorbed the implications of her comment.

“You mean . . .” As his surprise dissipated and his brain kicked in, a slow smile chased away the tension in his features. “You mean you’re willing to give us another go?”

“Yes. Hard as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I never got over you. I also never expected us to have a second chance. But I’m not going to pass up what feels like a God-sent opportunity.”

He touched her cheek, his fingertips quivering against her skin, and his eyes began to shimmer. “I can’t begin to tell you how grateful—and happy—I am.”

“You could show me instead.”

“With pleasure.”

He cupped her cheek with one hand and slowly . . . oh, so slowly . . . lowered his lips to hers.

The kiss lasted a minute . . . an hour . . . a day. Hard to say. Time stopped as Zeke demonstrated how much he loved and cherished her.

All she knew in terms of duration was that it was over too soon.

As he at last backed off, she had to clutch his arm to steady herself. “Wow. That was . . . it was even more spectacular than I remembered.”

“I’ll second that—and it was well worth waiting for. As the rest will be well worth waiting for if and when the time is right.”

He was telling her he wouldn’t push for a repeat of the night she’d ignored her conscience and let herself be swept away. That he respected—and agreed with—the moral principles she’d always followed until she’d unwisely let her passions override them.

“Thank you for that.”

“If that kiss is any indication, though, I think we’re going to have to agree to keep each other in check going forward.” One side of his mouth rose.

“I’ll do my part—even if I don’t want to.”

“And I’ll do mine.” He fingered the lock of red hair she couldn’t wait to restore to normal. “Do you think you’ll be up for dinner tonight?”

“If I sleep most of the afternoon.”

“I don’t see why you can’t. I may catch up on shut-eye too after I run back to the office for a couple of hours. If we go, dress up. I plan to launch this courtship in style.”

“Where are you taking me—Tony’s?” Like that would happen. A meal at St. Louis’s legendary fine dining establishment would put too big a dent in a detective’s—or DEA agent’s—budget.

“You got it.”

She stared at him. “Are you kidding? That’ll cost a week’s pay.”

“Not quite—but even if it did, it would be a small price to pay for the memories we’ll make.”

“Count me in.”