Let Love Shine by Melissa Collins

particularly like having to take night classes, but
since I have to work during the day time, there really isn’t much choice. I’ve
taken every weekend and off-session class that the local school offers. I
decided early on I wanted to double major in business and early childhood
development. I eventually want to run my own day care center, and with each
class I cross off my list, the more excited I grow at the possibilities that
wait for me.
    The drive back home passes in a blur. In short, Fridays
suck. Nothing screams get me the freak home like an eight-hour workday,
followed by a three-hour class that you didn’t want to take in the first place.
Yeah, that about sums up my day. So as the gate to my complex comes into view,
it’s almost as if I can feel the weight of the day—and the week for that
matter—lifting from my shoulders.
    I never really thought of it until we moved in here
together, but I can’t even begin to tell you how important it is to come home
to a turned-on porch light. The dim light from the front window, adding to the
soft glow of the flickering porch light, lets me know that Reid is waiting up
for me, as usual.
    “Hey, hun,” I call out from the front door. “The baby asleep
already?”
    Reid peeks around the corner of the kitchen into the living
room. With a rather mischievous grin on his face, he winks at me. “Nope.” His
face disappears behind the corner again.
    Okay, cryptic much .
    Stepping into the kitchen and dining room combo, I now
understand what the goofy smile was all about. He’s got a romantic, candle-lit
dinner for two all set up. Unable to hide the shock in my voice, or on my face,
Reid just laughs at me as he hands me a glass of wine.
    “You cooked?”
    He kisses my cheek quickly. “Don’t sound so surprised. It’d
be more impressive if you cooked.” He pulls a face at me and I roll my
eyes—our usual M.O. for mocking one another. “But, no I didn’t cook, this time.
I dropped Braden off at Momma’s for a sleepover and she cooked. I did at least
plan the night, so do I get some credit for that?”
    I lean my head on his shoulder as he pulls me to his side.
“Of course you do, babe. This is perfect.” He kisses the top of my head and
then moves to pull out a chair for me.
    “Here, sit.” As he busies himself with finishing our plates,
I enjoy my glass of wine and let the day melt away. Seriously, nothing can beat
a quiet, home-cooked meal with my man at the end of a crazy-ass week. Watching
him move around the kitchen with such finesse and grace isn’t so bad either.
    He puts my plate in front of me and slides into the seat at
my side. “So, how was your day?” Reid asks as he digs into the crust of Momma’s
world famous chicken potpie. Okay, fine. It’s not world famous, but it’s
damn good.
    “It was okay.” I tell him about the updates to the computer
system at work and how they’re really not all bad, despite how much some people
are still bitching about them. I seriously think that some people just enjoy
complaining. “And then class was…umm, let’s go with mind-numbingly boring.” We
share a laugh over it. He knows that politics is my least favorite class ever.
    Speaking around a mouthful of food, I ask him about his day.
There’s an awkward pause for a second as he puts down his fork and wipes his
mouth with his napkin. “I guess you could say it was interesting.” His tone has
me a bit wary. Interesting in his line of work could range from a high school
girl hitting on him—don’t laugh; it’s happened before—to a scared and lonely
teenager doing harm to himself. The concerned look on his face, as he scrubs
his hand over his stubbled jawline, tells me that it’s the latter that’s bothering
him.
    I put my hand on top of his and lightly stroke my thumb over
his wrist. “What happened? Was it about the call you and Dylan have been
working on?”
    “Yeah, we got another call from the girl this morning. She
mentioned the same name