As Brad stepped off the elevator, he immediately saw Ian coming out of the conference room. “Hey,” Brad greeted, shaking his hand. “Thought you were gone for your summer mission trip.”

“Six a.m. tomorrow,” Ian said, slipping his phone into his pants pocket and gesturing with the thin tube of building plans. “I should have left an hour ago, but we had something come up with the HVAC at a job. Had to stay and finish that.”

“You know, there are other engineers here.” Brad laughed and slapped a hand onto his shoulder. “You have a good trip. Give Calla our best.”

“You bet.” They walked in different directions. Brad stopped and talked to two more people before he made it to Valerie’s office.

He tapped on her door then opened it at her bidding. He found her sitting on the floor, surrounded by fabric color samples. She had a pencil between her teeth and a pad of paper in her lap. When she saw him, she smiled around the pencil.

“Miss Flynn, I was coming to see if you want to have lunch with me.”

“Mr. Dixon.” She slipped the pencil behind her ear and gestured at the floor. “I need a few more minutes. I’m almost at a stopping point.”

He crouched next to her and fingered a swatch of cloth the color of dark mustard. “What are you doing down here on the floor?”

“In Savannah, our workspaces were so small, so to work with a bunch of samples or something, I’d go into the break room and take over the floor. I just got used to it as a way to help me really think. Something about being down here helps me isolate my thinking and draws out my creativity.” She reached forward and picked up a bluish cloth and a tannish cloth. After reading the labels, she made notations in the notebook and set them to the side. She did the same thing about three more times, then smiled up at him. “All done.”

She gathered all the samples into different piles and put some of them into a file envelope, then she shifted to stand. It pained him to watch her shift her body to stand up. He could tell the movement hurt her hip and back. Nothing about the movement looked fluid; nothing looked natural or graceful. Once she got to her feet, she limped to her desk and put the notebook and pencil down before she used the desk as a brace to stretch.

“Sorry. Sitting on that floor makes everything tighten up.”

It bothered him, but it didn’t appear to bother her, so he tried not to make a big deal of it. “Would it be better to use a conference table?”

“You’d think but it doesn’t feel the same. Must just be because of the way I trained my mind. Or, I like being down in the midst it all and that’s how I have to do it.” When she stepped away from the desk, she moved with more ease and less obvious pain. She pulled her purse out of a desk drawer and grabbed her ID out of the computer’s key-card reader. “Okay,” she smiled, “ready.”

He had his hand on the doorknob when she stopped and smiled up at him. “This is the third time this week we’ve had lunch. At this point, when we walk out that door, people are going to start talking. Are you ready for that?”

“Are you?” His smile and his glance made Valerie catch her breath. He could barely wait to have the world acknowledge them as a couple.

Her laughter filled the room. “If I weren’t, I would have said no to lunch. I just don’t know if you, as a Dixon whose life has been spent slightly separated from the pack, can fathom the amount of gossip that goes on in an office environment. What happened a few weeks ago in the women’s bathroom was just the tip of a proverbial iceberg.”

Brad thought he was ready for any interoffice gossip. Her words made him question that notion. Maybe he needed to back off and let her lead a public romance.

He ran his tongue over his teeth and smiled a little closed-lipped smile. “Well, Valerie, while I appreciate the schooling, I can assure you that I know all I need to know about office gossip. And, the best way to kind of get ahead of that is to come to your office three days in a row and take you to lunch. I might even convince you to let me hold your hand walking back into the building. That should really bring it all home, don’t you think?”

She looked up at him, processed everything he said, then threw her head back and laughed. “You are what your mama would call incorrigible.”

“I am that.” He held the door open and let her precede him out into the office area. “I actually have to restrain myself quite often.”

Three steps into the cubicle area, Valerie stopped walking. He almost stepped into her. She pivoted and grinned up at him before quickly rising to her toes and giving him a quick kiss on the mouth. He was so surprised that he could only grab a shoulder in response. “I, too, can be incorrigible. How do you think I learned the word?”

She winked and turned back to keep walking to the elevator. His lips tingled and hungered for a longer, deeper kiss. His heartbeat roared in his ears. Brad paused for half a second before resuming his course. He fought against the desire to look behind him and see if anyone watched or whispered at their backs.

Once in the elevator, she leaned against the wall and smiled up at him. “So much for sealing it,” he said.

“Better to just rip that bandage off.” She laughed. “Where do you want to eat?”

Valerie leaned back against Brad’s chest and laughed at the joke Ken just told. They sat in the middle of the floor of the apartment Ken and Brad currently had ripped apart for renovation. For the last three weeks, she’d brought them dinner two or three nights a week and shared it with them. Tonight, they had just finished polishing off barbecued chicken and potato salad.

“Thanks, Val,” Ken said, stacking his plate into the empty picnic basket. “You’re spoiling us. I’m used to Brad or Jon bringing takeout in the middle of the night. About once a week, mama takes pity on us.”

“I’m happy to do it, especially because it means I can work time into seeing Brad. Apparently,” she added dramatically, “he’s committed to you and can’t leave all the work to you, blah blah blah.”

She felt Brad’s chuckle before she heard it. “That’s pretty much what I said.”

Her phone chirped with an incoming text. She leaned forward and pulled it out of the pocket in the basket. “That’s Buddy,” she said. “I need to call him back.”

“Of course.” Standing from sitting on the floor always proved to be a chore. Brad deftly got to his feet and held a hand out to her, pulling her up. She winced and limped away, stopping to stretch her leg muscles as she dialed the phone.

“Hey, Buddy. What’s up?”

“I came by, but you’re not there. Are you somewhere I can meet you?”

With a frown, she said, “Sure. Do you know where Brad and Ken are renovating an apartment building?”

“Yeah. Sure. I figured that’s where you were. I’ll be there in about five.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment.

At her elbow, Brad said, “Everything okay?”

He ran a hand over her back, and she had a feeling he’d be able to feel the tension in the muscles there. “No idea. He’s on his way over here.”

Needing something to do while she waited, she packed the basket then turned to Brad. “I know you guys have plans of what to finish before bed tonight. I’ll get out of your way.”

She slipped the strap of the picnic basket over her shoulder and started to walk away, but Brad grabbed her arm. “Hey,” he said softly, pulling her closer, “you aren’t in the way and you’re more important than any self-imposed deadline we set.” He cupped her cheeks with both hands and looked down at her. “If you need me, I’m here.”

Her smile didn’t feel natural or real. “I know. Thanks.”

He gave her a gentle kiss and she wondered if she would ever get used to how right, how perfect it felt to feel his lips against hers. Her swirling thoughts vanished into a vortex of nothingness and the only thing that existed was the feel and taste and smell of him. Each time they kissed, she soared above her daily mundane existence and escaped into this feeling of complete adoration.

Their lips parted and suddenly she could breathe again, open her eyes and see again, feel the ground beneath her feet again. She sighed and grinned.

Three weeks had passed. Three weeks of stolen moments and interludes, taken as breaks in busy lives.

“Well,” Buddy said from the open doorway, making the word sound like it had two syllables.

Valerie jerked away, feeling uncomfortable and a little guilty. Buddy knew about Brad. He’d seen them holding hands in church, swimming together at the Dixon estate, arms around each other while watching a family movie. She didn’t know why she felt nervous. She turned toward him and smiled. “Hi.”

“Valerie. I need to speak to you in private.”

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the apartment. Valerie looked up at Brad and saw his worried frown. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, handing him the picnic basket then rushing out after Buddy.

As soon as she got outside, he held up an envelope. “This came for you today.”

“To me?” With a frown, she reached for it. “Why would it come to your house?”

“I’m your emergency contact and the Georgia prison system does not have your current information.”

Her stomach fell out from under her and suddenly her entire world, her entire focus became that envelope. What? Why?

With shaking hands, she took it from him and opened it. She recognized Tyrone’s scrawl before she even had the letter open. A sob came out of her soul. She didn’t even realize she’d made a sound until she heard it.

“Is this the place to be reading that?” Buddy asked. He put a hand on her arm, but she jerked away.

“This is fine.” How she managed to voice the words around the parched mouth and tight lips amazed her. She opened the single page and had to re-read the beginning twice.

Dear Val,

I realize you don’t want to hear from me. But I felt that writing you would go a long way toward your healing… and mine.

You may or may not have heard that I come up for parole in two weeks. I want you to know that I have no intention of seeking parole.

In the five years since I have been in prison, I have developed a close relationship with our chaplain. About six months ago, I came to know Christ as my personal Lord and Savior.

I know this seems strange. I was such an evil man before. But, since then, I’ve worked hard to make changes in my life, in my heart, in my mind. Writing you and telling you was of the utmost importance to me.

I know you won’t feel safe until I can prove the changes inside of me. I know there is no recompense for what I did to you, but I pray that by finishing my complete sentence, you can have a little extra time of peace.

That is why I will not go before the parole board.

I pray that you can forgive me someday. There is nothing I can do or say to make up for what I have done but I beg you to forgive me.

Yours in Christ,

Tyrone

Valerie felt tears streaming down her face as she wadded the paper up in one hand and jammed it into her pocket.

“Valerie?” Buddy asked, his face drawn with worry.

“No.” She shook her head. “No, no, no. No way. No.”

Escape. Just run.

Whirling, she ran to her car, pulling her keys out of her pocket. She glanced over at the apartments as she drove out of the parking lot and saw Brad standing with Buddy, looking after her with a look of confusion on his face.