Page 115 of When Love Takes Root

I stood in my kitchen with coffee brewing while morning light spilled across the rosemary, and her name glowed on my phone.

Pretty Red

I’d saved her that way the night of our first date. I hadn’t called her that to her face. Not yet. A name like that needed roots before it needed sound.

I typed before I could overthink myself into silence.

Josiah:

Good morning, beautiful.

Pretty Red :

You always wake up flirting with women before the sun gets fully dressed?

I smiled.

Josiah:

Only one woman.

Pretty Red :

That was too smooth for 6:42 in the morning.

Josiah:

It was honest. The smooth part is just how you received it.

Pretty Red :

Oh, so now I’m the problem?

Josiah:

No, ma’am. You’re the reason.

Her bubbles appeared, disappeared, then appeared again.

Pretty Red :

See, this is exactly why I can’t text you before coffee.

Josiah:

You drink coffee. I’ll behave.

Pretty Red :

Behave feels ambitious for you.

Josiah:

I said behave. I didn’t say stop liking you.

Pretty Red :

Josiah.