Amy frowned at the pile of vegetables on her cutting board. It wasn’t that she couldn’t cook. She just didn’t make a habit of it. Why would she when her parents lived so close? On week nights, it was all she could do to get home, finish up whatever work she'd brought with her, and crawl into bed. Usually her mom sent enough leftovers home on Saturday nights to see her through. And if not? Wasn’t that why peanut butter existed? On the weekends, as much as she might enjoy playing in the kitchen, she usually ran out of time. Which is why the pile of salsa ingredients was currently taunting her. She could do this. She made salsa all the time at Mom’s. Why was this any different? Zach. Of course it was Zach. What if he didn’t like it?

She blew out a breath. Who didn’t like salsa? That was ridiculous. She’d start chopping and figure out a way to get over herself. Last night had been fun. Normal. So it wasn’t as if this should be any more pressure. Except, of course, that they’d be alone. In her apartment. Her stomach clenched. Would he kiss her? There’d been a few times last night when it had seemed like maybe, just maybe, he would. And then he hadn’t. Didn’t he want to? Or...too many possibilities flitted through her mind. Was it wrong that she wanted him to?

“Hola, mi bebé.”

Amy set the knife down and grabbed the towel off the counter to wipe her hands. “Mama. What are you doing here?”

“I said I’d bring tamales. And I’ll just take the salsa I made back home with me since you’re making your own. Dad’ll be happy to have extra.” Her mother crossed into the kitchen and slid a covered aluminum tray into the oven. “Just set it to warm a half-hour before you want to eat. When will Zach be here?”

Amy checked the clock on the stove. “Maybe two more hours? Something like that.”

Her mother cupped Amy’s face in her hands. “You look nervous.”

It showed? Amy grimaced. “I’m trying not to be. It’s just...” she gestured to her apartment. Did she even want to get into it with her mom?

“You have a lovely home. And you’re a beautiful woman, inside and out. He knows that, or you wouldn’t have kept him around this long. Which means you also feel he’s an honorable man.”

“Maybe too honorable.” Amy bit her lip as soon as the words were out.

Her mother laughed. “Aha, I see. It makes me like him even more to know he’s moving slowly enough to annoy you. But if you’re that impatient, why not take matters into your own hands?”

“Mom.” Amy shook her head. Had her mother really just suggested that she make the first move?

“What? I kissed your father first. It seems to have worked out well enough for us.”

“I...you...no way. What about all your lectures growing up about not calling boys because it’s the man’s job to pursue?”

“I’m not saying you should chase him. But now that he’s already hunted you down, there’s nothing wrong with giving him a little encouragement to quit toying with his prey.”

Was this conversation really happening? “I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

“Then don’t. Just think about it. It’s entirely possible he’s misreading you and holding off because he doesn’t think you want him to move forward. If that’s the case, you need to decide if you’re going to sit around frustrated or give him a little nudge in the right direction. Now, I’m going to take my salsa and get back to your father before the doorbell starts ringing. You know how he loves to embarrass the kids with his ridiculous guesses about their costumes. Have a fun evening. And let me know how Zach likes the tamales.”

Amy watched her mother leave, her thoughts spinning. There was no way her mom meant that she should make the first move. Was there? Even if that’s what her mom meant...could she? Heat flooded her face. She grabbed the knife and resumed chopping. Better to focus on something she understood.

The doorbell rang. Amy set aside the book she’d been pretending to read and stood, wiping her hands on her thighs. Just Zach. Nausea twisted in her gut. It was too late to cancel. Not that she wanted to. Not really. She jerked open the door.

“Trick or treat.” Zach—it had to be him under the Darth Vader helmet that somehow managed to work paired with the crisply creased khaki pants and burnt orange sweater—held out a plastic grocery bag filled with candy.

“Unless I can pull from that bag to give it to you, you’re at the wrong house.”

Zach pushed the helmet up, revealing his face. “You’re no fun. I guess I’ll have to settle for whatever smells so amazing.”

“Mama’s tamales. You’re in for a treat. Come on in. If you want to dump the candy in that bowl, we’ll be set for the rampaging hordes.” Amy pointed to the orange and black, spider web covered, melamine bowl she’d found on clearance in November last year. It was her solitary Halloween decoration, and it seemed a little over the top.

Two hundred forty pieces of candy cascaded into the bowl and Zach balled up the plastic bag. He looked around, shrugged, pulled off his mask, and stuffed the bag into it. “Done. What else can I do to help?”

Amy glanced around her apartment. After she finished the salsa, she’d gone into a cleaning frenzy. The place sparkled like she’d just moved in and, though the furnishings were sparse and second hand, it was home. Homey, even. She’d been to his place...it had much the same feel. What did he see that needed doing?

“Um. Nothing, really. Dinner’ll be ready whenever we are. It’s warming—I thought we could wait a little, but if you’re hungry now?” She crossed her arms, fidgeted, uncrossed them and tucked her hands in her pockets. What was wrong with her?

The corners of Zach’s lips poked up and his gaze locked with hers. “It’s a little early for dinner yet.”

Right. She licked her lips. “I didn’t really think—”

Zach closed the distance between them and drew her into his arms. Amy’s heart beat frantically in her chest. He dipped his head so they almost touched.

“May I?” His breath was a whisper against her lips.

Every nerve ending was on fire and her lungs struggled for breath. All she could manage was the faintest of nods.

Stars exploded behind her eyelids as his lips touched hers. She melted against him, fingers curling through his hair. The time she’d spent imagining what it’d be like to kiss Zach hadn’t come close.

Slowly, he eased back, a smile hovering on his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while. Thank you.”

Her voice was caught in her throat, her senses still reeling. Was she supposed to say ‘you’re welcome’? She cleared her throat and tried to get a grip. “I’m glad you did.”

Zach chuckled, his arms tightening around her. “I brought a movie. I wasn’t sure if you had something else planned?”

She shook her head. “I have a couple of board games, since it was supposed to be game night. But a movie’s fine.”

“Games are good. I needed to have some kind of plan. Once I made up my mind that I was going to kiss you...I figured we shouldn’t spend the whole evening doing that.”

Good call. Even though everything in her yearned to lean up and press her lips back to his. Could she? Now that he’d made the first move it wouldn’t be so awkward. And he clearly was on the same page, wasn’t he? The doorbell rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She flashed an apologetic smile. “Some of the younger kids start early.”

Zach nodded and released her, following behind her to the door.

“Trick or treat!” A tiny posse of ghosts, spacemen, and princesses sang out in unison from the hallway. Two older kids stood at the back, shoulders hunched, hands stuffed in the pockets of their hoodies.

“Aren’t you adorable?” Amy grinned as she dropped a handful of candy into each outstretched bag. She eyed the boys in the back. “No costume?”

“We’re too old for that, Miss Harris.” The boy cocked his head to the side and jerked it up, a sly smile on his face. “Mr. Wilson?”

Zach waved.

Heat flared across Amy’s cheeks. She hadn’t considered the fact that the majority of the kids who’d be coming to her door tonight would be escorted by their older siblings. The older siblings who went to the school where she taught.

“Nice, man.” The teen held out his fist.

Zach knocked knuckles with the boy. “You finish your algebra homework?”

“Nah, man. That’s tomorrow.”

“Just be sure you get it done. You never know when there might be a pop quiz.”

“Aw, man. Really?” The other teen spoke. “Why you gotta be like that?”

Zach chuckled and grabbed a couple of candy bars from the bowl and tossed them to the boys. “’Cause I want you to have the opportunity to go to college, get a job, lead a happy and successful life. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too, Mr. Wilson.” The boy barely suppressed a snicker.

Amy closed the door, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think...”

Zach shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. There’s no rule against us dating.”

There wasn’t a rule. How...? “You checked?”

He shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea to know ahead of time if I was going to be doing something wrong when I finally worked up the nerve to ask you out.”

She smiled. He’d been worried about asking her out? Was that why it’d taken him a while to make an official date? Though, if she was honest, she hadn’t exactly sent clear “date me” signals. “Still...it’s going to be all over school on Monday.”

“Does that bother you?”

Did it? She’d been asked out a few times by one of the other teachers at the school and always put him off, saying she didn’t date coworkers. That would be awkward. Though if the rumor mill was correct, he was practically engaged to someone on Capitol Hill now, so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. But it was sure to set off the whispered comments.

He cocked his head to the side. “It does. Should I go? I can probably catch up with them, ask them not to mention it. D’Andre’s a good kid. He can probably get Shaka to keep his mouth shut.”

Words lodged in her throat. She wanted to laugh it off, tell him not to be ridiculous. But this was the point of no return. Once it was out that she was dating Zach, she’d have to explain why she was willing to date a white man when there were African-Americans or guys with a similar mixed heritage she could’ve chosen. Dating them would certainly avoid the questions and yet...they weren’t Zach. She shook her head. “It’s okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Sure. I think the tamales are probably warm enough. You ready to eat?”

Zach gave her a long look before nodding. “I could eat.”