Melissa saw Isaiah walking up the road from her window on the second floor, and it made her ridiculously giddy. She ran down the stairs and burst through the front door. He was home, or at least he was at Elizabeth’s.
She stopped about ten feet down the path and watched him approach. Would he be happy to see her? Maybe he missed her and would go wild and crack a smile her way.
He saw her then, and she waved, probably a little too enthusiastically for the time she was in, but she wasn’t an eighteenth-century woman. Back home, women had been known to ask men out. Waving was a given. Elizabeth and the girls would probably faint if they learned that a twenty-first century woman could and would ask a man on a date.
Perhaps because he was taking forever to reach her, her stomach flipped and fluttered. When he finally stood in front of her and smiled, she gave in to her heart and threw her arms around him. She had nothing to lose. It wasn’t as if she was going to be around next week and that would have to face the neighbors at church or tea.
She heard his startled intake of breath air pass her ear as their bodies molded together. The sound sent exhilarating tingles down her spine. A few seconds later, his hands found her hips. The contact sparked a shot of electricity that felt as though happiness was racing through her bloodstream. “You’re home. Thank God! I thought you’d never get back,” Melissa whispered, holding him now in a not-so-brotherly way.
Isaiah returned her hug—tentatively at first. Then he pulled her tighter into his embrace, pressing her against the length of him. The sensations between them were heady, less electric this time, more like warmth flowing through her and raising her body temperature to a comfortable sauna.
She sighed. He felt good, strong, and safe. She could feel his heart pounding against her body. She liked the phenomenon.
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