The waitress sashayed over and set down the bill. “You two need anything before I get out of here for the night?”
Zan shot a glance at Kasia, and she shook her head. “No thanks,” he said. “I think we’re all set.”
“All right. Don’t stay too long though. It’s really comin’ down out there.”
“Rain again?” Zan could hear his own disappointment.
“No, sweetie. It’s snowing to beat the band.”
Kasia pushed the door open as Zan left a tip on the table, and a blast of wind hit her, blew her auburn hair back into the restaurant like flames. He heard a squeal and hustled to catch up. The flat black parking lot was gone, replaced by iced cars, trees, and buildings.
Kasia shivered and smiled, stretched out her arms and twirled into the falling snow.
“You shouldn’t dance in the snow without a partner,” he said. “It’s some kind of rule.”
She turned and looked at him, snowflakes caught on her eyelashes. “It’s a rule you just made up.”
“So?” He took her hand, asked for permission with his eyes.
She dared a few tentative footsteps, turned in a slow circle toward him. His arm curved around her, then he unwound her steps. She glanced back, and a slow smile spread across her face. She spun toward him on the slick pavement, and her feet shot straight out from underneath her.
He caught her and held her tight, her face dangerously close. Her warm breath washed over him just before her eyes closed.
Why had she closed her eyes—to ask for a kiss or to shut him out? Zan forced himself to take measured breaths as he studied each feature. The graceful curve of her jaw, her eyelashes against her flushed cheeks. Her lips.
He couldn’t risk being wrong. His heart depended on it. Hers too.
He chose to kiss her warm cheek. “I told you when you were ready to dance, I’d be here,” he whispered.
Her fingernails grazed his neck as she slipped her hand around him and pulled herself upright.
His stomach trembled at the touch. But he had to do the right thing.
~*~
In front of Zan, Kasia lifted her face to his. Those expressive eyes held all the depth and mystery of the Peruvian skies. But there was a vulnerability in them tonight. “Zan, you know I’m here too, right? To pray with you about Bailey, your dad—everything.”
He dipped his head, silent.
She pressed her hand to his face, offered comfort. Grounded herself in this moment. In him.
Even his cheek felt strong. Soft stubble brushed her palm as a dimple appeared under her hand.
He ducked slightly, as though suddenly shy. “May I kiss you?”
His hesitation, the sweetness in that question trapped her breath in her throat. She studied his eyes once more and then nodded.
The corner of his mouth tipped up, and he cupped her face in his hands. She shivered at the touch of his fingertips on her skin, so warm as the snow swirled around them.
His mouth met hers, gentle and sweet—all sugar and coffee and Zan.
This was how a kiss was supposed to feel. She smiled into it.
His lips brushed hers once more as he pulled back, his forehead against hers. His left hand gripped her waist firmly. “Thank you, Auburn.” His gravelly voice surprised her.
“For what?” she whispered.
“For being so worth the wait.”
She pulled his face to hers again.
He wrapped her up in his warmth, and she felt safe. No, more than safe. Alive.
More than breath, more than the whoosh of blood through her veins, her heartbeat was the song of a heart revived.
Thank you…
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May God’s glory shine through
this inspirational work of fiction.
AMDG
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Strains of Silence Page 33
