Love In Moments (Love Distilled #2) - Scarlett Cole Page 0,4

short blond beard, to eyes that were focused on her. It was too dim to make out their color properly and her eyes were too damn watery. But the man’s eyes looked dark and intense.

“I was outside and I saw an ambulance pulling in. Is everything okay?”

Olivia shook her head and wiped her fingertips beneath her eyes. What were the chances her mascara was halfway down her face while she was chatting with an attractive man? “We had an incident in the kitchen.”

“Do you need any help?”

Olivia immediately thought to say no, to tell him she had it covered, but if she had any chance of getting the food out, she’d need all the help she could get.

“Please,” she said. “If you go down the hallway to the left, there is another door out to the parking lot. Could you follow it and ask the paramedics to make their way into the kitchen from there? That way we won’t disturb Karl and Sarah.”

“I’m on it.”

She watched him walk away for a moment, hoping he’d remember. After quickly speaking with Karl and Sarah, she returned to the kitchen where Anne had closed her eyes. All color was gone from her cheeks, but she was worrying the lid of the bottle of water. Movement was good. Unconscious would be bad.

Reaching for Doria’s hand, she hitched her dress a little and took a seat on the floor next to her. “You ladies hanging in there okay?”

Anne nodded without looking in Olivia’s direction.

“You should get on with the food,” Doria chided, and then winced as she attempted to lift her head.

“Just stay where you are. Most of them are so drunk they won’t even remember.” Olivia prayed at least part of it was true. They all seemed to be having a good time. But the last thing she needed was more reporting on how Olivia Dyer didn’t deliver, yet again.

Paramedics walked into the kitchen, and Olivia stood quickly to give them room. She’d been warm enough in her black dress with all the running around she’d been doing, but suddenly she felt a chill.

“Here,” someone said behind her, and a black jacket that could have fit at least two of her inside was draped over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said, turning slightly to see the man who she’d bumped into in the hallway. “I’m Olivia.”

“Anders, and no problem.”

The lilt of his accent was hot as heck. And in the bright light of the kitchen, she could see his eyes were a cerulean blue, warm and inviting.

They stood in silence as the paramedics worked, but his large presence behind her was reassuring. The smell of his cologne enveloped her from his jacket, and she resisted the urge to pull the jacket closer to her tender nose.

Once they were gone, and the kitchen finally silent, Olivia looked around the unfinished platters. “Shit,” she muttered.

“Need a hand?” Anders asked.

Olivia’s shoulders sagged. Her fight had left with Doria and Anne. “Thank you for offering, but you should be out there enjoying the wedding. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I should just go and apologize to Karl and Sarah.”

Anders grinned. “My brother is too loved up and drunk right now to care about his stomach. In fact, he might thank you for getting everyone out of here ahead of schedule so they can go home.”

Olivia put her palm on her forehead and leaned back against the counter. “Oh, god. That somehow makes it worse. You’re a member of the wedding party.”

He reached behind her and took one of the few completed sliders off a platter and popped it into his mouth. “If you tell him there’s no food, can I stay in here and eat these?” he mumbled while chewing.

Anders was so close she could feel his body heat, and his presence was waking up parts of her that had been out of service for longer than she could remember.

Olivia shook her head. “Help yourself.” She stepped out of his way, needing a small amount of distance. What was it her therapist had said when she was at her worst and could barely get out of bed in a morning? Take the next first step. Pick something small, something simple, something that seemed doable. Like putting her feet on the floor, then opening her curtains.

One step.

One step could be the only step.

Or it could be followed by another step, and then another.

“No,” she said resolutely.

A flash of guilt appeared on Anders’s face as he chewed on a