maybe
his
gut was telling him what was going to happen, and
that’s
why he got so angry.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I believe the bastard was too overwhelmed by your beauty to listen to anything but his raging hormones.”
Her jaw dropped in—was he
serious
?
He used his finger to gently close her mouth. “Ah, Olivia; the men in this town are idiots. It’s not your dead husband they should be afraid of, but you.”
This time Olivia managed to close her gaping mouth before he closed it for her. “What in hell are you talking about?”
“While you were in the store this morning, your daughter told us that Eileen said the men in Spellbound Falls wouldn’t ask you to dance at the Christmas party because they’re afraid they won’t measure up to your deceased husband.” He took hold of her hand, which she only now realized was grasping his jacket instead of poking it, and pressed her fingers between his warm palms. “Except that Simon Maher doesn’t seem to realize what a shrine you’ve become to the good people in town.”
“Excuse me?” she whispered. “They think I’m a
shrine
to the dead bastard?”
Olivia slapped her free hand over her mouth, craning around to look for Sophie. Seeing her bent over one of the fishing holes with Henry a good fifty yards away, she turned back with a scowl and tried to tug free.
Of course he didn’t let her go, because she wasn’t holding a baseball bat.
Maybe she needed to get one of those taser-thingies instead.
Because judging by Mac’s very stillness, Olivia knew he’d caught her mistake, and this time she didn’t have any trouble reading that look in his deep green eyes.
Chapter Seven
Mac sat on the crystallized snow with his back against the shanty and his eyes closed against the sun, and decided he liked picnics. He’d never given much thought to dining outdoors in early spring, but he was finding it to be a rather pleasant experience—though that might have had more to do with his picnic companions than the time of year.
The location was equally unique. If just three short months ago someone had suggested he’d be basking in the sun on a frozen freshwater lake, with a beautiful woman and her daughter as well as a son of his own, Mac would have thought them insane. But here he was stuffed with simply prepared food, utterly relaxed and undeniably the most content he’d been in a long, long time.
Then again, that also might have had something to do with his immediate company.
Olivia was quite easy to be with, he’d discovered, once he’d stopped baiting her long enough to let her relax and enjoy their outing. But he’d been curious to see how she’d react when confronted when she had no place to hide, and… well, he certainly hadn’t been disappointed.
In fact, he’d been caught completely off guard by therealization that instead of pining for her dead husband, Olivia actually despised the man. The reason why was anyone’s guess; Keith Baldwin could have been a bastard for any number of reasons, from being abusive to unfaithful to indifferent toward her. Which was baffling, really, as Mac couldn’t imagine any man not treating Olivia as a prize to be cherished.
The woman was an enigma of beauty and grace and warm swirling energy just begging to engage life, yet she seemed to go out of her way to keep everyone but her daughter at a distance. She certainly had an intelligent if devious mind, he’d found out when she’d put him to work replanking the docks in hopes that he’d rescind his offer to help, and she definitely wasn’t afraid to come out swinging—or chest-poking—when backed into a corner.
Mac cracked open his eyes to see her relaxing on the ice a good thirty feet away, reclined against a mound of snow she’d formed on a slant to catch the low-hanging sun. The woman also had a sharp sense of humor, which he’d caught a glimpse of when he’d invited her to sit beside him after she’d finished repacking the picnic
his
gut was telling him what was going to happen, and
that’s
why he got so angry.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I believe the bastard was too overwhelmed by your beauty to listen to anything but his raging hormones.”
Her jaw dropped in—was he
serious
?
He used his finger to gently close her mouth. “Ah, Olivia; the men in this town are idiots. It’s not your dead husband they should be afraid of, but you.”
This time Olivia managed to close her gaping mouth before he closed it for her. “What in hell are you talking about?”
“While you were in the store this morning, your daughter told us that Eileen said the men in Spellbound Falls wouldn’t ask you to dance at the Christmas party because they’re afraid they won’t measure up to your deceased husband.” He took hold of her hand, which she only now realized was grasping his jacket instead of poking it, and pressed her fingers between his warm palms. “Except that Simon Maher doesn’t seem to realize what a shrine you’ve become to the good people in town.”
“Excuse me?” she whispered. “They think I’m a
shrine
to the dead bastard?”
Olivia slapped her free hand over her mouth, craning around to look for Sophie. Seeing her bent over one of the fishing holes with Henry a good fifty yards away, she turned back with a scowl and tried to tug free.
Of course he didn’t let her go, because she wasn’t holding a baseball bat.
Maybe she needed to get one of those taser-thingies instead.
Because judging by Mac’s very stillness, Olivia knew he’d caught her mistake, and this time she didn’t have any trouble reading that look in his deep green eyes.
Chapter Seven
Mac sat on the crystallized snow with his back against the shanty and his eyes closed against the sun, and decided he liked picnics. He’d never given much thought to dining outdoors in early spring, but he was finding it to be a rather pleasant experience—though that might have had more to do with his picnic companions than the time of year.
The location was equally unique. If just three short months ago someone had suggested he’d be basking in the sun on a frozen freshwater lake, with a beautiful woman and her daughter as well as a son of his own, Mac would have thought them insane. But here he was stuffed with simply prepared food, utterly relaxed and undeniably the most content he’d been in a long, long time.
Then again, that also might have had something to do with his immediate company.
Olivia was quite easy to be with, he’d discovered, once he’d stopped baiting her long enough to let her relax and enjoy their outing. But he’d been curious to see how she’d react when confronted when she had no place to hide, and… well, he certainly hadn’t been disappointed.
In fact, he’d been caught completely off guard by therealization that instead of pining for her dead husband, Olivia actually despised the man. The reason why was anyone’s guess; Keith Baldwin could have been a bastard for any number of reasons, from being abusive to unfaithful to indifferent toward her. Which was baffling, really, as Mac couldn’t imagine any man not treating Olivia as a prize to be cherished.
The woman was an enigma of beauty and grace and warm swirling energy just begging to engage life, yet she seemed to go out of her way to keep everyone but her daughter at a distance. She certainly had an intelligent if devious mind, he’d found out when she’d put him to work replanking the docks in hopes that he’d rescind his offer to help, and she definitely wasn’t afraid to come out swinging—or chest-poking—when backed into a corner.
Mac cracked open his eyes to see her relaxing on the ice a good thirty feet away, reclined against a mound of snow she’d formed on a slant to catch the low-hanging sun. The woman also had a sharp sense of humor, which he’d caught a glimpse of when he’d invited her to sit beside him after she’d finished repacking the picnic
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