Page 30 of When Love Comes Home

"Good," she says, not quite meeting my gaze.

"Sheri, I owe you an apology," I say. "I'm sorry I was short with you."

She bursts out laughing. "You should’ve heard yourself," she says. "‘Adam's love life is none of my business.’ But with that tone, you might as well have stuck a sticky note on him that said, 'I belong to Katherine Linder.'"

"No." I exclaim, my cheeks flushing. "Was it that obvious?"

"Yeah," she grins. "So, are you two an item now?"

"We're still trying to figure things out," I admit.

"In other words, he’s taken," she says, raising an eyebrow.

"In other words," I smile sheepishly. "Refer to the sticky note."

***

After work, I go home and change into some comfortable clothes, before sitting on the swing and opening my laptop, intent on getting some work done. My fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment before I type in my new password:AdamKissedMe.

Well, technically, I kissed him first. The memory is so vivid, I can almost taste it. The man knows how to kiss.

Yesterday, we drove to church separately because I had to be there an hour early to teach Sunday school with Loren. After the service, we had lunch at my parents’ house. Adam seemed unusually quiet, and then he left to visit his foster parents. I waited up for him, hoping he’d come home soon, but by ten, I gave up and went to bed. This morning, I woke up to an empty kitchen. He had already gone, leaving me with nothing but a hollow feeling in my chest

I wonder if he’ll call me this week. Should I call him?

A light knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. I recognize it instantly. My sister, Loren, never rings the doorbell. Instead, she knocks lightly three times, pauses, then knocks twice more. I swing the door open, and there she stands, holding a quart of my favorite ice cream.

"Spill it," she says, walking past me like she owns the place.

"What?" I feign innocence, shutting the door behind her.

She shoots me a knowing look. "You were quiet all day yesterday. First at church, then at lunch. So, what’s up?"

"Nothing is up," I lie.

She tilts her head, squinting like she’s trying to read my mind. "Is Adam home?" she asks, lowering her voice to a whisper.

"No," I say. "He’s gone for the week."

Her expression softens. "Is that what has you down, Sis?" she asks in a motherly tone. "You miss Adam?"

"No!" I lie… again.

She raises both eyebrows and crosses her arms, waiting for me to fess up.

"Yes," I admit with a sigh. "Okay, yes. I miss him. A little. A lot. Ugh! I can't stop thinking about him."

Loren walks into the kitchen and grabs two spoons. She removes the lid from the container and sets it down on the counter between us.

"The last time Justin and I were here," she begins tentatively, "we noticed a few things."

"Really?" I say, my spoon pausing midair. "Were we that obvious?"

"Well, he’s been in love with you for years," she says matter-of-factly. "But the way you’ve been acting lately tells me you've fallen too."

"No," I protest, though even I can hear the lack of conviction. "I’m not in love. Maybe just a little infatuated. Yes, I'm attracted to him, I won’t deny that. But in love? That’s a stretch."

Loren smirks, taking a bite of ice cream. "You’re sitting here moping because he’s out of town," she points out. "Who does that if not a woman in love?"

---