She laid the envelope in her lap and stacked her palms on top of it. “This spot always calms me.”

He watched her. She watched the river.

It had been too dark to see the river when he’d come for dinner. Now he dimly registered that it was green-blue, fast-moving, glittering in the sunlight.

Her pug ran around on the cold brown winter grass, chasing a squirrel.

What had he allowed to happen? He’d let emotion overrule caution—something he never did. And now she was going to want to process what had happened verbally.

Verbal processing was not his thing. His thing would’ve been to leave and work through this on his own. But that would be disrespectful, and he’d never disrespect her.

“It was probably very bad form,” she said, “to spring a kiss on you.”

She hadn’t asked a question, so he gave no answer.

“You work for my non-profit. It might have been more politically correct to ask you to sign a waiver before kissing you.”

“I don’t care about political correctness.”

“Please know that I’d never want you to feel obligated to reciprocate because you work at—”

“Did any reaction of mine make you think I felt obligated?”

“I . . .” She shrugged.

“I kissed you because I wanted to. Don’t take the blame for that.”

She groaned, then whispered, “I’m rusty at this.” Her fingers swept her bangs to the side a few times, then smoothed her hair behind her ears in a gesture that told him she wished she could smooth out the complications of this situation as easily. Finally, she stilled and met his eyes. “I haven’t kissed anyone in a very long time. Not since Chase. I thought Chase would be the last person I ever kissed.”

“You’re still in love with him.” He hadn’t planned to say that. Or even to care about that.

“I’ll always love him. You’d have loved him, too, if you could have met him.”

No. He wouldn’t have.

She slid the ring on her middle finger up and down, up and down. He was getting better at reading her. She fiddled with her rings when trying to settle herself and pulled on her ear when thinking.

He didn’t doubt that she’d enjoyed the kiss while it was happening. She’d responded with passion. But he also didn’t doubt that she was now second-guessing it.

“You’re feeling guilty because you failed at your role of nun,” Luke concluded.

“I’m not a nun. But I do feel like I failed at my decision to abstain.”

“Was Chase so selfish that he’d have wanted you to make your life a shrine to him?”

“No.” She looked offended on Chase’s behalf. “He was the most unselfish man in the world. My decision wasn’t about Chase’s preferences. It was about what God led me to do.”