“No thanks. I can run to the car.” He walked toward the foyer, leaving her no choice but to follow. “I’ll let you know as soon as the lab weighs in on tonight’s note and any findings from the CSU.”

“I’m not holding out much hope for helpful news.”

He stopped at the front door and angled toward her. “You’ll give Phoenix a call?”

“Top of my list tomorrow—after I arrange to get new tires put on my car.”

“Do you have to be anywhere in the morning?”

She could lie to take advantage of the implied offer of a lift—and a chance to see him again—but working on the floors was the primary item on her schedule for tomorrow.

“No. Under the circumstances, I think God will overlook my absence at church.”

He hefted the cake. “I’ll enjoy this. Thanks again.”

“I have more if you run out—and I’m always available if you want to talk.”

He didn’t bite. “I appreciate that.” Turning away, he reached for the knob.

In five seconds, he’d be gone.

A bold idea sprouted in Eve’s mind, and she stopped breathing. Brazen wasn’t her style—but letting him leave without impressing on him how much he’d come to mean to her in their short acquaintance felt like a mistake.

“Brent.”

He paused. Slowly pivoted back toward her.

Without giving herself a chance to get cold feet, she closed the distance between them . . . rose on tiptoe . . . and brushed her lips over his.

He froze as she lowered herself to her heels.

“They say actions . . . speak louder than words.” Her sentence came out choppy, as if she was winded. “That action is to let you know how much I care about you—and that I’m willing to work with you on whatever other obstacle you think stands between you and romance. The sparks we’re generating deserve to be explored.”

His nostrils flared, and his chest rose and fell as fast as if he’d run a hundred-meter dash. “You don’t play fair.”

“I’ll always play fair with you. But I’m not afraid to go after what I want—or let you see how I feel.”

“A classic example of the difference between us.”

“You opened up tonight. If you can do it once, you can do it again—until it becomes a new habit.”

“That could take a long time.”

“I’m on no deadline.”

A gust of wind sent a spray of cool mist through the door.

“I’ll call you.” He moved to the porch. “In the meantime, watch your back.”

“That’s my plan.”

No commitment other than a phone call—but she’d take it.

He hesitated . . . then spun away and jogged down the walk through the rain.