Page 20 of Freedom's Kiss
“Let’s pray and eat before the food gets cold,” Olivia jumped in, then hesitated as she glanced at Adam.
He tilted his head to alleviate the discomfort that crawled across her face. Their short acquaintance hadn’t led to any spiritual discussions, but she needn’t feel worried she’d offended him. Though he hadn’t lived up to and maintained the Bible’s principles of defending the helpless, he was still a Christian, still believed Jesus’s shed blood covered his sins. If only he could feel that promise of a new beginning…
“Shall I?” he asked in an attempt to slam his thoughts closed. Heads bowed around him, and he followed suit. “Heavenly Father, for this meal we are truly thankful, and for the hands that prepared it. Bless the Arroyo family by your will and grace. Amen.”
A softamenfollowed, then the sound of forks being picked up and clinked against bowls. Adam pierced his fish, the meat flaking, glistening with juices. He scooped a portion of grits, threads of melted cheese stretching from bowl to fork until they snapped. He closed his eyes and took a bite, Cajun spices popping on his tongue. The creaminess of the grits soothed the heat of cayenne and black pepper—a perfect combination.
“This is fantastic,” he said around another mouthful.
Pleasure beamed from Olivia as she dipped her own fork into her meal. “Good enough for a special?”
“Definitely. Although we’ll need to make sure we have enough ingredients stocked. This is going to sell fast.” He took another bite and sighed. “That’s it. You have full control over the daily specials. From everything I’ve tasted today, I don’t believe you could make a dish that didn’t taste like heaven on a plate.” The chefs at Seaside we’re idiots for not inviting her into their kitchen. Oh well. Their loss, his gain.
Excitement thrummed from Olivia—she nearly shook with it. Adam looked up, thinking her free rein over part of the menu was the reason, only to find her gaze locked on something out the window. He followed her line of sight, but the only thing he saw was a white mail delivery truck. It slowed, stopped, and then crawled along to the next mailbox.
“Excuse me.” Olivia bounced out of her seat and barely contained her stride to a walk as she left the house.
“That girl.” Eileentskedand shook her head. “For days now, she’s been acting strange whenever the mail comes. Refuses to let me get it. She’s up to something.”
David scraped the last of the food from his bowl. “Don’t let your curiosity ruin whatever her surprise is. She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”
Adam watched as Olivia opened the mailbox and retrieved the contents inside. She shifted until she was in profile, then sorted through the envelopes placed between a folded magazine. Her hand stilled as she looked at one envelope longer than the others. Then she slipped the piece into her apron pocket, a wide smile spreading across her face as she walked back toward the front door.
“Anything interesting?” The lift of Eileen’s brow and the tilt of her head gave away her feigned disinterest.
Olivia set the stack of mail on the counter. “Just bills and junk.”
Adam eyed the white corner popping up from behind the opening of her apron pocket, his own curiosity rising. Olivia folded her hands, her arms positioned in front of the two pockets on the front of her apron.
Eileen slid off David’s lap. “I’ll just get these dishes washed up and—”
Adam whisked the bowls from her grip. “Let me. I insist.”
Her eyes widened. “But you’re a guest. I can’t let—”
Olivia took the bowls from his hands. “I’ll do them, Mom. You and Dad go relax.”
“But you cooked. I can clean up.”
“Oh, let the girl pamper you a bit, Eileen.” David grabbed his wife’s hand and pulled her toward the living room. “We can even watch that show on Netflix you like about the royal family.”
Eileen didn’t look certain but allowed herself to be led to the other room.
Adam picked up the other two bowls and rounded the kitchen island, stopping beside Olivia at the sink.
“So…” He drew out the word in a hushed voice and bumped her shoulder. “What’s the big secret?”
She turned innocent eyes on him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mm-hmm. Right. And I’m Brad Pitt.”
Those eyes widened as she covered her mouth and acted like a starstruck teenager. “Really? Oh, Brad, I’ve always wanted your autograph.”
He leaned his hip against the counter and peered down at her. “I’ll sign that envelope you’re hiding in your pocket.”
Her hand dropped to her chest, lashes fluttering so quickly they almost made him dizzy. “Now why would I be hiding something?”
He felt a bit like the big bad wolf as his lips curled and he lunged toward her. His movements faster than hers, he only felt the whoosh of displaced air as she made to knock his hand aside.
