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instead of despair.
    Why were they arguing so much? Sheridan tried to remember when this part of their relationship started. It seemed the closer they got, the more Brock talked about their being together permanently, the more she resisted.
    “Is that what’s happening?” She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “No,” she told herself. But her eyes told a different story.
    She pulled into the Starbucks’ parking lot, and grabbed her cell phone. She needed to talk. But as she dialed her best friend, Kamora, she stopped. She didn’t need to meet over coffee to know what her friend would say.
    “Girl, you need to do the do. Marry that man before someone else swoops him up.”
    She clicked off the phone and turned out of the parking lot. As she sped toward the freeway, she dialed again.
    Brock answered on the first ring.
    “I’m sorry,” were her first words.
    He said nothing.
    “If you want me to beg, I will. I’ll get down on my knees and—”
    His chuckles stopped her. “Somehow, I can’t imagine that sight.”
    “Is that what you want? For me to beg?”
    “Not even close.” His smile was no longer part of his tone. “I just want…I don’t know why we fight so much recently.”
    “It’s not really fighting,” she said, ignoring the fact that she’d asked the same question minutes before. “We’re just getting closer. There’s bound to be bumps in the road.”
    “It feels like more than that to me.” He paused. “Like there’s another reason. Something we’re both missing.”
    “Don’t look for anything, sweetheart,” she said as she exited the freeway. “I’ve just been so overwhelmed recently, especially with losing my dad. I never imagined having to live the rest of my life without him and sometimes that thought makes me crazy.”
    “I know,” he said, his tone now soft with love. “And I hope you know that I’m always here for you.”
    “You’ve been beyond great.” She edged her car to the curb and turned off the ignition. “Everything you’ve done—like changing your trip this weekend. All of it means a lot to me.”
    “We didn’t get a great start to this weekend.”
    “Actually, the start was great and we still have today and tomorrow.” She got out of the car and rushed up the sidewalk. “Let me make it up to you.”
    His chuckles were back. “How are you going to do that?”
    “I’m not totally sure, but I have some ideas.”
    “Hold on a sec,” he said. “Someone’s at my door.”
    She was already laughing when Brock opened the door.
    “Get in here.” He pulled her inside the Compton home he’d inherited from his grandmother.
    She said, “I want to make yesterday up to you.”
    His laughter stopped, although he still held her. “No, we’re not…”
    “I’m not talking about that,” she said, kissing him. “I can love you without making love to you. Just being with you is enough.” She paused. “Is it enough for you?”
    And with his lips, he told her that was more than enough for him.

Chapter Six
    K ENDALL
    Kendall couldn’t imagine where the noise was coming from. She shook her head, opened her eyes. Froze. A second later, she shot straight up.
    The pounding started again. “Kendall, are you in there?”
    Her heart hammered to the beat of the banging on the door. She jumped from the sofa, tossed the comforter onto the floor, and tried to stuff it and the pillow under the couch.
    She glanced at the clock, couldn’t believe she’d overslept. Usually when she made The Woman’s Place her home, she was up hours before the first employee arrived—showered, dressed, and behind her desk. But last night she’d had a fitful rest. Her ex-husband had visited her in her dreams, made himself at home, and brought the memory of all that used to be right with them. It wasn’t until the first morning’s light peeked through her window that she’d finally slept.
    “I’m sure she’s in there, Pastor Ford,” said Janet, the Spa’s