Ben pushed back from his desk and stretched his neck from side to side. The response from the invitation to the open house was promising. He’d received his invitation on Monday, which meant others in the area probably had as well. Three days later, they had close to a hundred people committed to coming. That was faster than any event he’d run. With the open house just three weeks away, he’d worried people would be unable to attend. It’s why he’d pushed to do an open house, where people could come and go as they pleased, instead of a sit-down dinner with a program. The format also allowed them to invite more than they normally would have. Of course, it also encouraged people not to respond and still show up. But that was a risk they could account for. Probably. Rebecca would be excited, wouldn’t she?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he picked up the phone.

“Hey, Ben.”

He smiled. She recognized his number. Maybe even had it programmed in, under his name. That was a step in the right direction. “Hey, yourself. I’m glad I caught you, I was going to leave a voicemail.”

“I’m actually almost finished for the day. I had two cancellations this afternoon so I figured I’d head down to the mission, see if they needed an extra hand with anything. It’s an open pantry day, so they’ll be swamped on that side of the building.”

That would be worth seeing. He’d helped on food distribution missions overseas, but hadn’t seen how something local worked. Did they require paperwork of some sort to prove that the food was going to people who needed it? Or did they just assume that if you went to the trouble of figuring out where and how to get it, you were needy enough? Did they worry about people taking advantage of the system? “Think I could tag along? I’d love to get a feel for that end of the operation.”

Rebecca cleared her throat. “I guess. I’m not sure where they’ll need help...it might just be hanging out with the tutoring kids again.”

“That’s fine. I like tutoring too. It’d be a kick to tell Zach I helped someone with homework for his class. Can I pick you up, take you to dinner after?”

“I have my car...”

“Sure, but you could leave it there, right? I’d drop you back after we eat.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Give me half an hour?”

“’K.”

Ben ended the call and grinned. That had gone better than he’d hoped. He’d fully expected her to say no, and keep saying no, when he offered to pick her up. She must not have thought too carefully about what it meant in terms of his driving. It wasn’t as if his office was very close to the PT clinic. But if she didn’t think about it, he wasn’t bringing it up.

He packed his laptop and a few files into his bag, threw his blazer over his arm, and hit the light switch on his office wall as he headed out.

Feet aching, Ben opened the car door for Rebecca then rounded the hood and slid behind the wheel. “Wow. That’s...quite the operation.”

Rebecca nodded. “The emergency food area is always open, I think 24/7. Anyone can come for one of the grocery boxes. They’re packed to provide two meals a day for a family of four for one week. That gives people time to apply for S.N.A.P.—food stamps, basically—and free or reduced lunches for the kids when their parents face an emergency, like an unexpected layoff or illness. I know the mission records basic information of people who use the emergency services, to cut down on anyone who tries to abuse the system. But they don’t have many problems. Those boxes aren’t what most people would choose to live on, no matter that they’re free.”

Ben nodded. He’d been guilty of that—filling the food drive bags with the cans in the pantry that were accidental purchases. Things that he had no intention of eating. Stood to reason though that if he wasn’t excited about canned peas and beets, that wasn’t really what the hungry were looking forward to either. He cringed. He’d do better from here on out—actually go shop for the food drive and buy things that made sense. “And the other side? It looked like a grocery store.”

“It is, essentially. We get donations as well as low-cost purchases from government programs. Then we sell them at cost, sometimes below cost, to folks who participate in the food stamp program but who need a little extra to round out their rainy day supplies. S.N.A.P. covers weekly meals, basically, but it doesn’t allow for building up any kind of surplus or even some of the extras that we take for granted. The program allows folks to do that and take home more than if they spent the same amount at an actual grocery store.” Rebecca dropped her head back against the headrest. “You saw how empty the shelves were at closing time. It’ll build back up, slowly, over the next month. Just in time for our next open pantry day.”

“It’s incredible. And you do hot meals every night, plus sleeping accomodations, too?”

She nodded. “And lunches for kids during the summer, when the schools are out and they aren’t getting a meal there. Some of the families only eat the two meals a day we offer them. But if you were to ask my neighbors how many Americans faced hunger, they’d have no idea it was one in six.”

One in six. It still surprised him, even though he’d looked it up when he first proposed the joint effort with a local agency to his boss. “There are more people trying to make that information available now. A lot of celebrity chefs play for national food charities when they’re in competitions. That’s how it first came to my attention.”

Rebecca laughed. “You watch food shows?”

“Guilty pleasure. Mostly late at night when there’s nothing on and I don’t feel like going into the living room to fire up the game console. You’ve seen their knives, right? You’ve gotta be hardcore to wield those things. They’re manly.”

“Fair enough. Where are we eating?”

“Do you like barbecue? Paige told us about this place, a friend of her dad’s runs it. It sounded amazing and I’ve been looking for a reason to get over to try it. She says the brisket’s better than anything you’ll find in Texas.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows arched. “That’s quite a recommendation. I’m game. I haven’t had good brisket since the last time I went back to see my parents.”

“That’s right, your mom said they live in Texas. But you didn’t grow up there?”

“Nope. We moved right before I went to college. So it’s never really felt like home. But you can’t beat the barbecue.”

“We’ll have to see. Paige is pretty good at the food thing, so I’m willing to take her word for it. And hey, if it’s as good as she says it is, then you’ll have a place to take your folks next time they visit.” Ben glanced over and caught her quickly suppressed grimace. “Or not.”

“It’s not that. I just...my dad always picks Thai food. I guess Texas is full of good barbecue but severely lacking in the finer points of Asian cuisine. At least in his mind that’s the case. I like Thai as well as the next person, but there’s only so much you can eat, you know?”

He pursed his lips. “Depends. I could probably do the mango sticky rice every day without any issues.”

Rebecca laughed. “I’m not positive that counts.”

“Thai iced tea?”

She shook her head.

“Ah, well. I tried.” He signaled and turned into the parking lot. “Here we are. Let’s go see if it’s all Paige says it’s cracked up to be.”

Ben reached for her hand as they walked into the restaurant. She jolted but didn’t pull away when he twined his fingers through hers. Progress. When they were seated and had placed their drink orders, Ben set his menu aside and held her gaze. “So what sent you into physical therapy? At camp, you were planning to be a missionary, weren’t you?”

Rebecca pulled her lip between her teeth and fiddled with the silverware. She looked down at her hands as she spoke. “I applied to a semester long mission trip. It was basically a chance to see if you were suited to the life and get a serious feel for what was involved. When you finished, you’re pretty much guaranteed that the agency would take you on once you graduated. I didn’t get accepted.”

“Oh. Why not?” Ben frowned. She probably hadn’t changed her name legally yet, which would mean that the agency believed the stories about Becky MacDonald and didn’t want to take the risk. On the one hand, he could see their point—if what Dr. MacDonald had said was true, Rebecca would’ve been a huge liability. But to not even bother finding out how true it was...how could they?

Rebecca shrugged and cast a grateful look at the server who deposited their drinks on the table. They placed their orders for brisket.

Ben watched her sip her sweet tea. Should he push?

“It was probably the essays. I’ve never been particularly good at them. They don’t exactly give you a long list of reasons with your rejection letter. They invited me to apply again the following year, but there didn’t seem to be much point. It just felt like God had firmly closed that door. So I did a lot of soul searching, praying, and talking with my mom...and physical therapy jumped out as a way to still do something useful that helped people.”

“You’re good at it. And you definitely help. My knee’s almost back to one hundred percent, and I know for a fact I wouldn’t have pushed myself without your encouragement.”

Pink blossomed on her cheeks, making her even lovelier. Did she have any idea how pretty she was? Probably not. The women who did rarely captured beauty in their soul. But Rebecca? She was beautiful inside and out.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit. Sara’s been seeing you lately.”

He nodded, acknowledging the point. “I’m sorry about that.”

Her movement jerky and tentative, she reached across the table and laid her hand on his. “Don’t be. It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been completely fair to you. Ten years ago or now. I...it’s...”

He shook his head. “Please don’t say it’s complicated again.”

She laughed. “All right. But it is. I will say I’m trying to untangle the complexities and figure out what I’m doing. I...for the first time in ten years, I’m considering the possibilities I thought were beyond my reach. Be patient with me?”

His heart sped as a weight lifted off his chest. Maybe there was hope after all. If she told him the whole story, that would clear everything up. Wouldn’t it? “I can do that.”

The server returned with their food and Rebecca snatched back her hand. Rich, tangy spices wafted through the air and Ben’s mouth watered. If it tasted anything like it smelled, they were in for a treat. “Can we pray?”

Rebecca nodded.

Ben reached for her hand and bowed his head. So many thoughts raced through his mind and he took a deep breath to settle them. “Heavenly Father, thank you for this food. Thank you for Rebecca and the mission. For the work they do to provide for those who are hungry. Guide and bless our steps as we work to be salt and light in the world. Amen.”

“Amen.” Rebecca tugged her hand away and leaned over her plate, breathing in. “Smells good.”

Ben sliced into the tender beef and took a bite. Flavor exploded on his tongue. “Mm. I haven’t been to Texas in a long while. But I’m not sure I need to now that I know this is here.”

They ate mostly in silence. Ben focused on his food, but his eyes kept straying to Rebecca. She was neat, not a drop of sauce dripped from her fork. He’d already had to wipe at three different places on his shirt, and he was pretty sure there was at least one on his pants that he’d missed. Zach was the only one of the three of them with any laundry know-how, so he was going to have to beg for help to get the sauce out. He made a mental note to wear a t-shirt next time he came here. Preferably a black one.

“Ugh. I’m stuffed.” Rebecca leaned back and dabbed at her lips.

Ben chuckled. “They have carrot cake.”

She grimaced and shook her head. “Nope. I’m not giving in.”

“It’s your favorite. Or it used to be.”

“Still is.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t. I really can’t.”

The server came to the table and reached for their empty plates. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can you do dessert to go?”

The girl nodded. Ben looked at Rebecca. “What do you think? Breakfast of champions?”

She sighed. “You’re evil, you know that? Fine. Yeah.”

“Two slices of carrot cake to go. Separately packaged? And the check.”

“I’ll be right back.” The girl slipped away, balancing their empty plates in her hands.

Ben sucked the last bit of tea from his glass. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I didn’t want to be a pig. But carrot cake...how do you have the willpower to turn it down?”

“I don’t run anymore, remember? You have to develop a lot of willpower when you stop that. You really don’t exercise?” Her gaze flicked over him.

Heat flooded his face and he shook his head. “Not really. Sorry. Just one of those metabolism things, I guess.”

“Unfair.” Rebecca took one of the bags from the server and tried to reach for the check.

Ben glared and handed the server his credit card. “Nuh-uh. My treat. I asked you to dinner.”

She cleared her throat. “So, was this a date?”

Was it? It wasn’t what he’d had in mind for their first real date. But then, nothing about having her back in his life had been what he imagined. Maybe in the long run the ups and downs of reality were better than the blissful perfection of imagination. “Yeah. It was.”

Rebecca’s lips quirked up. “Then thank you. I had a good time.”

When the bill was settled, they went out to the car. The trip to the PT office where Rebecca’s car waited was short and quiet. Ben started to ask a question several times but stopped himself. The quiet was companionable. It didn’t need to be broken for the sake of noise. He parked next to her car in the deserted lot.

“Here we are. Do you want me to follow you home, make sure you get back safely?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I do drive at night, you know.”

Ben chuckled. “Sorry. It’s weird not dropping you off at your door. My mom would be appalled.”

“Well, I can tell her you offered. It doesn’t make any sense for you to drive to Springfield when you live a few miles from here.”

“Okay. Will you at least text me when you get home? Or call?”

“Sure.” She unhooked her seatbelt and pushed open the door. “I had a good time. I didn’t think I would, but I did. Thanks for tagging along.”

Ben pulled the keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car, circling around to where she was unlocking her own car. “It was my pleasure. I enjoyed seeing more of what the mission does. And having a chance to eat dinner with you was the icing on the cake.”

“Oh. My cake.” Rebecca’s gaze darted back to Ben’s car. “I think I left it...”

He held up a bag and smiled.

“Ha. Thanks.” She grabbed the bag.

Ben stepped forward and slid his palm up her arm. He curved his hand around the back of her neck, his fingertips buried in her hair, and lowered his mouth so his lips hovered just above hers. “I’ve been thinking about this for ten years.”

Rebecca’s eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting slightly as she leaned forward.

He pressed his lips to hers. Her hands balled into fists at his waist. Electricity sizzled through his body and a hunger that had nothing to do with his stomach seized him. He needed to stop. To step back. But, oh...he didn’t want the beautiful torture to end. With his breath locked in his chest, he forced himself to raise his head a fraction of an inch, breaking the kiss. He held her glassy-eyed gaze and eased back a half-step.

“I...I should get home.” Rebecca fumbled behind her for the handle to the car door and wrenched it open.

“Okay. Right.” Ben’s tongue darted between his lips. “Good night, Rebecca.”

She nodded, swallowing, and slid behind her steering wheel. “I’ll let you know when I’m home.”

“’K. Drive safe.” Ben closed her door and stepped back from the car. He lifted a hand as she backed out of her space and drove away. He got back into his own car and started the engine, every nerve ending tingling. Her kisses had been potent ten years ago. Compared to now, they’d been child’s play.