“Your fiancé died. Just because that happened, God doesn’t expect for you never to kiss another man for as long as you live.”

“I really thought He did.”

“Maybe for a while. But not forever. You’ve held on to this decision for five years. Not for God. Not for Chase. Because it keeps you safe.” He glanced at the river, then back to her. “Staying committed to Chase is easy. He’ll always remain perfect in your memory, and he’ll never let you down. The relationship you didn’t have with him can stay on its pedestal.”

She sighed.

“It’s better not to love anyone new than have them taken from you. Right?”

“I don’t know. All of a sudden I’m confused about my motivations . . . about what God’s leading me to do.”

“People move on after loss, Finley.”

“Have you moved on from your loss?” She spoke the question compassionately, yet it found its mark accurately. She was calling him out for being a hypocrite.

“We’re talking about you,” he answered. “And I firmly believe that you can move on.”

Her gaze traveled down to his boots and back up again. “I firmly believe you can, too.”

He listened to the sound of cold water rushing past stones.

“I need to sort some things out,” she said after a time. “But if you’re right and God is giving me the green light to start dating again . . . Would you be interested in dating me?”

Her words kicked him in the stomach with shock. He’d been certain she’d been building up to an explanation of why they couldn’t repeat the kiss. “Dating? What? No. The kiss was just . . . one of those things that happens between people sometimes. More wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Why?”

“You really need for me to spell it out?”

“Yes.”

“When you play with physical attraction as strong as this, you play with fire—”

“We did a good job of holding things in check.”

“I’m only here to fulfill a promise to your dad.”

“You can still fulfill your promise.”

“And then I’m leaving.”

“With my blessing.”

“I’m not good enough for you.”

“I’m not asking you to become an Eagle Scout.”

“I can’t afford to get involved.”

“We don’t have to become”—she made air quotes—“involved. If it turns out that I’m going to start dating again, then I’d like to give us the chance to . . . experiment with what’s going on between us. That’s all.”

He glared, fighting to understand.

And then he did understand. Chase was a saint. He wasn’t. “The fact that you could never take me seriously means that you can lower your guard and experiment with me. Is that it?”

“No.” She scrunched her nose. “Are you angry?”

“I’m not angry.” But he was. “I just don’t want to be the lab rat in your experiment.”