Page 55 of Mail-Order Bride Substitute
“Who expected it to be so cold in August? It must have hailed somewhere.” He sipped his coffee, the warmth pooling in his stomach. Slowly, the inner warmth and the outer warmth of his skin made their way toward each other.
Olivia busied herself in the kitchen but constantly circled back to him. She touched his cheek, or his neck or his hands. “You’re not warming up very fast.”
“I’m doing my best.” If not for Alfred’s presence, he might have suggested her arms would help.
He ducked his head. The cold did strange things to a man’s thoughts. Might even get him into trouble if he allowed them to continue. But he couldn’t stop remembering how soft she’d been in his arms.
A knock sounded on the door. Thank goodness. Rescued before he did or said something he’d regret.
* * *
Olivia toreher attention from Riley. Genuinely concerned about his icy state, she was sorely tempted to wrap her arms around him and share her warmth. Thanks to him, she had been spared the biting cold.
But a knock sounded, and she went to answer the door.
Honor stood before her holding a pot. “Glad to see you both got home safely. Yer all right, aren’t ya?”
Olivia stepped aside to let Honor in. “Riley got soaked. He’s sitting by the stove. Driving the cold away.”
“This will help.” Honor put a pot on the table. “Hot soup.”
“Smells good.”
Another knock. Gwen opened the door. “I brought biscuits.” She studied Riley. “Your brothers are demanding a report. Shall I tell them you’ve survived?”
Riley chuckled. “You do that. And add but barely. I might be unable to work for a few days.”
Honor grinned. “I’m sure they’ll understand.” Laughing, she took Gwen’s arm and they left.
Alfred rose from where he’d watched everything. “I told Iris I’d help her.”
“Iris?”
Alfred shuffled his feet. “Mrs. Bennet.” He hurried out the door.
Riley laughed. “Iris, is it?”
Olivia kept her attention on the closed door and her thoughts to herself. If one of them was to fall in love, better it was Alfred. “He deserves whatever happiness he can find at his age.”
“How old is he?”
“I don’t know but I’d guess he and Mrs. Bennet are close in age.”
“He seems like a good fellow.”
Olivia got bowls and cutlery and put them on the table. “He is. Are you warmed up yet?” She felt his study of her but wouldn’t look at him. They were alone with nothing and no one to stop her from holding him, kissing him again. She struggled to control her wayward thoughts.
“I believe I am. And I’m hungry to boot.”
Grateful for being brought back to reality, she filled both bowls. “The soup will go a long way to making you feel better.”
“I’m sure though…” He didn’t finish. Instead, he pulled up to the table. “I’ll ask the blessing.”
After his, “Amen,” they both took a biscuit.
“Good soup,” she murmured, unable to find words that felt safe. All she could think was how she’d kissed him. He hadn’t objected. Could it be that he was learning to appreciate her, even want her? It was what she desired. Nothing more.
They finished and he moved to the living room. She followed and tucked the blanket around him.
