Epilogue

Delilah sat at the bar sipping her Coke and listening to the jazz fusion she'd somehow become quite fond of, until she saw the people around her turn, their attention moving to the front door of the restaurant.

She looked too and saw Samson standing in the doorway. It took her breath. He was wearing the blue shirt she'd suggested, and it made him look more radiant than usual, if there was such a thing. Although, in her eyes, he couldn't get any better.

She watched while he warmly greeted everyone that approached him. She loved that about him. He made everyone feel special. Her most of all.

But the tension had been building for weeks. They'd both somehow made a silent agreement that they would take things very slow. A lot had changed for both of them, and they needed to see what that meant for them together, so they'd remained friends, although she'd never seen him give another woman any attention.

When Samson made eye contact with her, she smirked, then turned away to face the music. He'd hate it and love it at the same time. But she didn't know how much more she could take. It was clear to both of them that they had a strong friendship, and she was grateful for that, but the chemistry between them had moved to another level. Every night they said goodnight, he gave her a hug that was agony, but she wouldn't push for more. Not yet. Not until she knew he was ready.

She finished her drink, then stood and turned, running into a wall. "You're doing that thing again," she said, looking up at Samson.

His smile was smug. "What thing?"

Being that close to him was difficult, so she took a step back. He kept his eyes locked on hers until she had to look away. "Are we getting dinner?"

"I've already ordered, but I got it to go."

"Carpi doesn't do take out."

"They do for me."

"So you've charmed your way into the kitchen now?"

"Charmed? No. They take pity on me. It's amazing what getting blown up does for your reputation."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"Same surprise as the last one?"

"You mean the garden?"

"Yeah."

"Nope. A new one."

"I'm intrigued."

"Good. I'll grab the food, and we can go."

Every time Samson made a turn in his car, Delilah made a guess as to where they were headed. He had been concerned that, after everything that had happened, they wouldn't be able to be comfortable in each other's presence, but that had quickly changed, and it had become clear that both of them had been transformed for the best by their ordeals.

But he wanted to get things right with her, especially after the way he'd treated women in the past. It hadn't been easy, but he'd refrained from kissing her so far, and it had been worth it. At least until now.

"How's your dad?" Delilah said as they neared their destination.

"He's been fine the whole time. He just likes to milk a cold."

"I don't know, he looked pretty sick to me, and I'd hate for him to miss Riley's recital next week."

"He'll be fine by then. I'll tell him you asked after him. That will make his day."

"Why?"

"Because he likes you. A lot."

"Really? That's nice. I'm glad you two are getting along better these days."

"Me too."

He pulled into a driveway.

"Where are we?" she said, leaning forward to try to get a look around.

"It belongs to a friend of mine. But you might want to hang on. It gets a bit bumpy."

He drove up the dirt track until they rounded a bend and went up a hill.

"Is this a farm?"

"Yeah."

He glanced at her when the view rose up in the night. The city lights glowed from down below the hill they were perched on.

"This is beautiful."

"I thought you'd like it."

He parked the car, then grabbed their meal and handed it to her. "You mind carrying this out?"

"Sure."

He went to the trunk and got a blanket.

"There's a bench out here?" she said.

"Yeah." He laid the blanket over it. "Have a seat."

"This feels an awful lot like a date."

"Is that a problem?"

"We just haven't talked about that yet."

"I know. It's been the elephant in the room."

"Has it?" She sat beside him and pulled out the food, laying the containers between them.

He laughed. "I see. So you're saying you haven't noticed?"

"I've enjoyed our friendship."

Between the glow of the city and the full moon overhead, there was enough light to see the sly grin on her face.

"So have I."

"Have you? Because apparently there is an elephant in the room."

"No, never mind. Forget I said anything. We can just be friends."

"I don't think I like where this is going."

Resting his elbow on the back of the bench, he brought his hand to her face and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you know how long I've waited to do that?"

"Fix my hair?"

His fingers lingered on her cheek. "Yeah." His eyes dropped to her lips, then lifted. "You've become one of my best friends, and I've taken it slow because I want to get it right, but that doesn't mean I've wanted to."

"No?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"No." He took the containers of food and moved them to the other side of himself. "It has been an exercise in self-control."

"You're doing well."

"You think so?"

"I'm impressed."

She leaned almost imperceptibly closer to him, but he noticed. It set him on fire, and he couldn't wait any longer. His hand went around to the back of her head and pulled her into a deep kiss. Her arms immediately went around him, and she tugged him closer.

It was several minutes before they pulled apart.

Samson took a deep breath. "That was worth waiting for."

"Does this mean we can't be friends anymore?"

"I sure hope so."

She snuggled into him and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Good. I like this much better."

He pulled her in close, looking out over the city, his heart full. Every part of him was full. God had restored things to him he'd never thought possible. He had no way to know what the future held, but if God was in control, he'd willingly face whatever was in store, and having Delilah by his side made it that much sweeter.