Without baking lessons to occupy my afternoons, I spent more time in the smithy than ever before. I completed my leatherworking orders early on, then grew bored enough of sitting or sketching that I did, indeed, offer to let Kit teach me about blacksmithing. It gave an opportunity for close proximity in public, letting him direct my hands and guide me around the shop. I didn’t pay as much attention to his words as his touches, grazing over my hips and brushing against my shoulders, leaving me weak and wanting by the time we got home each night.
Also due to Rosie’s absence, Kit had my whole attention, constantly, and I got the feeling it was beginning to tax him. I’d been told often growing up that I talked too much, asked too much,neededtoo much. Kit was a patient man, but even that had its limits, and I worried I would hit them soon.
Those concerns didn’t stop me from tailing after him while he heated a tool in the coals, never forgetting to warn me before he pumped the bellows that flooded the shop with stifling heat. I remembered our clash in Forstford when I’d made a mess after the belch of flames startled me. I was less skittish now, partly out of necessity, but mostly because I trusted Kit to keep me safe.
The coals cast an orange glow across his features as he bent over them. Stubble shadowed his jaw and sweat made his skin glossy. His arms flexed as he moved the piece of metal to the anvil, and I slid in closer, bumping against him while being careful not to jostle his grip on the tongs.
“I can swing the hammer,” I offered, retrieving the tool from the nearby wooden table.
Rather than allow him to pass the tongs to me, I ducked under his arm so I was framed between his shoulders. It was a tight squeeze, but I was slight enough to fit. I tipped my head to one side to clear his view of the glowing length of steel he held.
“Pen,” Kit protested through a laugh. “How are either of us supposed to work like this?”
I wriggled one arm free enough to raise the hammer. “I think it’s fine. Gives me the perfect angle.” I swung and barely glanced the edge of the metal, striking a single spark that made me snort.
I expected Kit to pull away but, instead, his armscrowded against me. He stepped up so my back was fully pressed against his chest and hung his head over my shoulder. Shivers raced up my spine as he whispered in my ear.
“I know what you’re doing.”
A grin pulled at the corner of my lips. “What am I doing?”
“Making people question my teaching methods, for one.”
I squirmed against him once more, relishing the feeling of his body so close to mine. We’d been more intimate at home recently. Kissing and cuddling on the couch every night after dinner, and I’d faked being asleep more than once to convince him to let me spend the night with him instead of in my room alone.
One thing I thought of often was his nightly routine of taking a bath when we got home from the smithy. The idea of following him in there and climbing in the tub with him, warm and wet with our bare skin slick, made my heart race.
But again, Kit was a patient man and, in that area, he was testing mine. I wanted all of him. No clothes between us, no barriers at all. I just hadn’t figured out how to ask for that yet. Judging by his hesitance every time I tried to push for more than innocent kisses and touches, any request might be met with a resounding refusal. I wasn’t sure why he held back. I knew he liked it when we got close—as close as we were right now.
“Mister Koesters!” A feminine voice resounded from the front of the shop, and Kit stepped back.
I dodged while Kit rapidly extricated himself from me. The tongs and heated strip of steel were discarded, and he dusted his gloved hands down the front of his apron as our unexpected guest appeared in the doorway.
His alarm amused me until I also turned toward the new arrival. Tessa stood with her back to the city square, her brown hair in a loose braid and a wrapped meal from the tavern in her hands.
She beamed at Kit, then held out her offering. “We had a bit of extra roast, and I thought of you! Always so hard at work you don’t even pause for lunch.”
I crossed my arms and snorted. I made sure Kit ate plenty. Insisted on it, in fact. More often than not, I packed lunches for us from home but, in lieu of that, I was perfectly capable of fetching meals from the tavern… or somewhere else I wouldn’t have to deal with Tessa.
My scoff seemed to draw her notice, and she turned on me with a far less sunny expression. “Oh, Penny. Aren’t you usually at Rosie’s this time of day?”
“Usually,” I muttered.
I highly doubted Rosie hadn’t told hersomethingabout our falling out, which made this an excuse for her to poke at what she knew to be a sore subject.
She didn’t probe further, though, just returned her interest to Kit and thrust the food out again.
“Thank you, but I’ve already eaten.” He waved a dismissive hand. I could have sworn I saw a flicker of humor in his dark eyes as he glanced at me. “Are you hungry, Pen?”
I might have taken Tessa’s roast for the sake of spitting in it, but surely not to eat. I shook my head. “Quite full.”
Tessa tossed her head, and her braid slapped limply against her spine. “Ah well, keep it for later. Strong man like you needs to eat.”
She should have left then, but instead she walked farther into the shop, bypassing me to approach Kit. I might as well have been in another world as she placed herself between him and me.
“Better yet,” she began coyly, “come to the tavern tonight and get a fresh helping. Justyou, Kit.” she said with emphasis, as if I couldn’t have inferred as much on my own. “I get the feeling you could stand to relax after working these muscles all day.” She wrapped one hand around Kit’s bicep and used it as leverage to pull herself closer to him.
I remembered the knife strapped to my hip and the threat I’d issued days before. Tessa didn’t even care. She looked over her shoulder and straight at me without a hint of fear as she added, “No offense, Penny. I’m sure you work hard too.”
