D.K. SHEPARD

Ralph made his way down the hall. He stopped at the open door and peered inside. There she was, her nose buried in a book as usual.

As they’d been talking they’d both scooted closer and leaned in a bit. Their faces weren’t far apart and the realization set Henry’s heartbeat aflutter.

“How about this one?” Peter asked, gesturing to a white bookshelf. They’d been in this furniture store for almost an hour ...