“Oh, that’s too much.”
“It’s not.” Arthur paused to take one more sip of whiskey-tea and then snickered. “You know, it’s funny that you scolded Emma for walking ten minutes to Agnes’s house when it sounds like you had your friend walk nearly the exact same amount of time to reach here.”
“It’s not the same!”
Arthur burst out laughing, and Charlotte’s face went red as she chuckled along with him.
“Gosh, I’m horrible, aren’t I?” she said.
“You’re not horrible. Not as horrible as me. Clearly. I mean, I’mreallyplaying with fire here. If Mr. O’Connor and I were ever caught...”
“Oh, Arthur, he may not even return your feelings.”
“Ireallythink he does.”
Charlotte tapped her teacup with her fingernail. “You barely even know him.”
“I spent the whole morning with the man,” Arthur retorted.
“Onemorning.”
“One verynicemorning.”
Heaving a sigh, Charlotte said, “Goodness, Arthur, you’re hopeless.”
“I know I am. I throw my whole heart into these things,” he said. “You know that, too. Remember, I was the same way with Ella.”
“Yes, but you were only nineteen when the two of you met. I thought that you had matured over these last seventeen years. It’s not like you’ve pursued anyone since, man or woman.”
“Ah, well, now you know the truth. I haven’t matured. Not even a little. It wasn’t that I had spent this entire time holding myself back from these things. I simply hadn’t met anyone worth liking.”
“If Mr. O’Connor is—”
“Jesse,” Arthur cut in. Grinning, he wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s a lovely name, isn’t it? It’s asmartname. Strong. Kind.”
Charlotte crooked an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if anamecan be those things, but I’m afraid that I don’t have it in me to try to convince you otherwise.” Arthur laughed. “Well, if Mr. Jesse O’Connorisinterested in you, then you two will have to be careful. And Iimploreyou to be more cautious while you figure out whether or not he reciprocates these romantic feelings of yours.”
Arthur relented with a sigh. “Alright, fine. I willtryto be less flirtatious. Until he shows interest. Once that happens, I may even kiss him in the middle of one of the shops.”
“Not when it’s open, I hope.”
“I make no promises,” Arthur said.
Obviously, he was only kidding. Or, well, mostly kidding. Jesse was so handsome, his personality so bewitching, that Arthur could honestly imagine forgetting himself.
“You’re lucky you have enough money to start over if you ever needed to.”
“I really will try to be careful,” Arthur said.
“Thank you.”
“Now”—Arthur set his teacup on the end table and clapped his hands on his thighs—“which one of us should talk to Emma?”
Chapter Six
Jesse
Slices of brisket sizzled in the skillet on the stove while cubes of potatoes boiled in a pot on one of the other burners. Jesse’s mind was still far away as he turned the meat, thoughts of Arthur Hughes tickling his brain tissue, as though the new owner of the printing office had become an internal itch that constantly needed scratching. Whenever Jesse tried to shift his thoughts to something else, he couldn’t hold onto them for very long before the urge to think of Arthur became too powerful to resist. If Jesse closed his eyes, he could still smell the man’s musk, the memory so prominent that not even the salty sweet scent of the brisket’s brine could overpower it.
