Alex didn’t argue when Amy offered to drive. Fifteen minutes later they were deep in a residential neighborhood, at the house Alex inherited when his parents died in a plane crash. Built for a family of four even though he was an only child, it was spacious compared to the one-bedroom apartment that Amy shared with Barb.

Even though they had been dating for just three weeks, Amy already felt like this was her second home, and that Alex was someone she could easily and willingly share everything in her life with. They had spent many hours talking, about their past, their beliefs, and their hopes, and had explored and played together when Alex didn’t have to work.

In only aspect they held back: they were very affectionate, but not physically intimate. It was driving Amy crazy, though she took responsibility for part of it. She knew it was a cost of taking her religion seriously, even as her faith became seriously eroded with experience and the indulgence of her ability to see connections within that experience. But she had also come to believe that the intent of a rule was as important as the rule itself, because not all applications of it could not be anticipated; and that the intent of chastity outside of marriage was to enable children growing up in safe, stable families.

Whether or not they were married, she knew now more than ever that she and Alex practically fit the definition of a family. His declaration of love for her in the morning was the strongest indication yet that he felt the same way, and tonight she hoped to test it.

“Whoa,” he said, pausing after he unlocked the door.

“You okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Fine. I think the adrenaline’s wearing off.” He stepped inside and headed for the kitchen. “You’ll like this dish, I think.” She followed him to the refrigerator, where he pulled out a large crockpot.

“One of your family recipes?”

“A new one, actually. It’ll take about a half hour to warm up, but it’s worth it.” He set it on a counter next to the sink and plugged it in. “Whew!” he suddenly exclaimed, raised his arm and sniffed. “Oh, that’s me.”

Amy suppressed a laugh as he looked at her, embarrassed. “I need a shower,” he said. “Do you mind watching that? I won’t be long.”

“I’d rather watch you.” She turned and unplugged the crockpot. “You know what? I need a shower too.”