Once Upon a Mail Order Bride - Linda Broday Page 0,40
at her baby as though trying to make it behave and quit acting like a complete nincompoop. Ridge paused to watch and chuckled at their antics. He’d never known a peace like this and wasn’t giving it up. If the bounty hunter found him again, the man would have to kill him. Ridge would never leave this little family, their home, willingly.
“Read some more,” Bodie urged. “I want to see what happens.”
“You like the book?”
“Shoot, yeah! It’s a lot more interesting than all the begettin’ in the Bible.” The kid grinned. “Never could understand why they didn’t talk in plain English.”
“To make kids like you wonder about it.” Ridge read a little more and closed the book. “That’s enough for tonight. It’s bedtime, and we have lots of work to do tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir. I reckon we do.” Bodie pulled himself to his feet. “Good night.”
Addie rose and kissed Bodie’s cheek, then pushed back a curl that had fallen onto the kid’s forehead, just like a mother would. Her tender caring brought a hitch to Ridge’s breath, and he worked to get air past the ache in his chest.
After Bodie left, Addie turned toward her small space.
“Wait a minute,” Ridge called, striding to her. “I want to ask you something.”
Arms full of yarn and mending, she lifted her eyebrows in question.
“I’d like to kiss you good night—that is, if you’re agreeable. As husbands and wives do.”
She smiled and moved toward him until she stood very close. The gold flecks in her green eyes sparkled, and the smell of the peach cobbler they’d had for dessert filled each breath. She didn’t seem afraid. Maybe she wanted this as much as he did. She lowered her lids and seemed to hold her breath.
Ridge anchored her with his hands, spreading his fingers behind each ear, and slowly moved his mouth over hers. Very gently, he kissed her, devouring her softness. The kiss was more deliberate than the one that morning. A lot more. He slid an arm around her, splaying his large hand across her back.
Warmth rushed through him and pooled in his belly. Her breath melded with his, and her lips parted slightly as she leaned into him for the space of several heartbeats. Not wanting to press his luck, he ended the kiss and took a half step back, not sure what to expect. He prayed he’d done nothing to upset her. He thought he was heeding Luke’s advice to go slow, but any slower, and they’d come to a complete stop.
“Would you like to do this each night—as our private ritual?” He smiled at her nod, finding the promise of more kissing bursting inside his chest like a roman candle. “Good night, Addie. Sleep well.”
He turned down the lamps, made sure she didn’t need anything, and went up to bed. Maybe tonight he wouldn’t need whiskey to silence his demons. Addie would be his medicine. The question of whether she would pay him a midnight visit again rolled through his head as he undressed and crawled between the sheets. Just in case, he left the bedroom door wide open in invitation.
Maybe that was the trick to having a successful marriage—never closing a door, any door, between a husband and wife. An unbidden smile brightened his thoughts along with the hope burning inside him.
* * *
Addie sat on her bench and listened to Ridge moving about upstairs, his kiss tingling on her lips. The fat Miss Kitty curled beside her while Squeakers leaped into her lap and settled with a happy meow. A feeling of contentment stole over her. She’d found a place where she was supposed to be, somewhere she mattered.
The lamp burned low but provided enough light to see by. She braided her hair, then reached for her writing notebook to voice some of the thoughts running through her head.
I don’t know what love is, or if I’ll ever know. Maybe it’s nothing more than being immensely grateful for what someone has given you, gratitude that bursts inside your chest and spreads through you like a flame. Tonight, Ridge made me feel this way. Around him, I matter for the first time in my life. I feel his deep caring down to the soles of my feet, and I know beyond a doubt that if it came to it, he’d willingly die for me. Although I’d never want that. Never. I love his kisses, the taste of his mouth, and his warm hands on me. If this isn’t love, I