Love's Awakening by Kelly Stuart

Author:Kelly Stuart [Stuart, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781481263108
Publisher: Yellow Zebra Books
Published: 2012-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Celia and Oliver got her car at Azizi and drove separately to the townhouse. The lights were off as they approached the front door. “We’ll have to be quiet,” Celia said. “Remember your grandfather sleeps downstairs.”

“Got it.”

Celia inserted her key into the lock. She slipped her hand into Oliver’s and entwined their fingers. To guide Oliver across the darkened living room, to keep him from bumping into something. No other reason. Riiight. She loved their hands together. Had kept their hands together as much as possible while they’d been at the claw crane game. Oliver certainly had not seemed to mind.

Guilt snaked through Celia. She’d left her newly won doll in her car. Didn’t feel like having to explain its provenance to Richard and Shirley in case they woke up.

Celia led Oliver around a table and to the staircase. She heard a click, and light illuminated the room. “Celia?” Richard, from the pull-out couch. He had turned on a lamp.

Oliver dropped his hand from Celia’s. He and Celia were behind the couch, so Richard didn’t catch them holding hands. “Hey, Granddad.” Oliver went over to greet Richard. “Now I can see.”

“Did you have fun?”

Celia joined them. “Did you know your grandson is a professional bowler?”

They made small talk for a few minutes. “Caleb was good tonight,” Richard said.

“He never cries with you or Shirley,” Celia agreed. She shifted her gaze to Oliver. “Now, me…” She laughed. “My face is a trigger for him to turn on the waterworks.”

*****

In the kitchen, Oliver watched Celia retrieve a pot and fill it with hot water. Celia also got a full baby bottle from the refrigerator. She put the bottle into the pot and swirled the bottle around—”To make sure the heat distributes evenly”—and tested a few drops on her forearm. “Warm,” she said. “Good.”

“Let me feel.”

Celia squeezed milk on Oliver’s arm. The warmth was like soup that had a minute to cool off. “That’s a lot of work for a bottle,” Oliver observed.

“It’s not too bad. But serves me right for getting a cheap warmer. So, uh…” Celia shot him a meaningful glance. “You didn’t feed your children?”

Oliver ignored the pinprick at his heart. “I didn’t. And please don’t call them my children. I’m not their father.”

“You love them.”

“I guess. But I don’t know them where it counts.” Oliver sighed. “Anyway, I’ve never seen Granddad smile like that.”

A shadow stole into Celia’s eyes. “He loves that baby. He could talk about Caleb all day.”

“Do you love him?”

“Caleb?”

“Yeah. Caleb.”

Celia furrowed her brows. “He’s my son,” she said. “Okay, let’s go up.”

On the way up, Oliver weighed what would happen if he kissed Celia good night, kissed her goodbye. What kind of lover was Celia? Playful? Dominant? Insecure? Attentive? A combination? What kind of lover was his father? What kind of kisser? Would Celia compare the two of them? Yes, of course. It was inevitable, and Oliver would try not to think about it.

It did not really matter, anyway. Oliver doubted he would find out what kind of lover Celia was.

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