Page 131 of When Love Takes Root

I read the note again, slower this time. He’d moved me to his bed, covered me, taken off my sandals, plugged in my phone, left me water, and put himself somewhere else.

You’re safe.

The room blurred.

I blinked hard and looked across the bedroom.

Josiah slept on the chaise near the window, one arm behind his head, his braids loose over one shoulder. The morning light found his face, peaceful enough to make me stare.

I should’ve looked away.

I didn’t.

My God, this man was beautiful, and somehow, that had become the least remarkable thing about him.

I pressed my lips together, but the truth slipped out anyway.

“My God, this man is so sexy.”

His eyes opened.

Josiah didn’t move at first. He just looked at me through the dim morning light, sleep still holding the edges of his face, his gaze slow and direct enough to make heat crawl up my neck.

“So are you, love.”

I slapped both hands over my face. “Oh my God.”

His laugh came rough with sleep. “You started it.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.”

“Then why did you hear me?”

“My spirit agreed and woke me up.”

“Josiah.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Please go back to sleep and forget I said that.”

“No.”

“No?”

He shifted on the chaise, the blanket sliding lower on his waist. I looked at the ceiling because the Lord and I had enough history for me not to pretend I was above temptation.

Josiah’s mouth tugged at one corner. “I’ve been called worse than sexy before breakfast. I’m keeping it.”

I dropped my hands and glared at him. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I am.”

I sat up slowly, pulling the comforter with me like it could hide the fact that my face was burning. “How long have you been awake?”

“Since you started testifying.”