Page 155 of Sin City Lights

“I married my Svein when I was sixteen. Olaf was nineteen when he married Frida.”

Eve sipped her milk. Why was his grandmother telling her all this? What did it have to do with Adam? She thought it rude to ask, so she kept quiet.

“Adam had good luck in business but bad luck in his personal life. I’ve been afraid I wouldn’t live to see that change. You give me hope, Eve.”

Eve nodded.“He’s a good man,” was all she could think to answer.

Grandma placed a gentle, bony hand on Eve’s.“I was married to my Svein for fifty years. The most important thing I learned is that you have to find the strength to ride the storms. If you can hold on to one another through those storms, nothing can pull you apart.” Such urgency in her voice. In the darkness, Eve could feel her intent stare.“Ride the storms with him, Eve. He’s so deserving.”

Why would she say such a thing? An ominous feeling washed over Eve. She opened her mouth to ask but heard footfalls approaching. The unmistakable steps were Adam’s.

“There you are.” His voice was sleepy.“Having a midnight chat?”

Eve held up her mug.“And a cup of milk. Your grandmother helped me work the microwave.”

Adam slipped an arm around Eve’s shoulders, pulling her into his side.“I’m here to take her back, Bestemor. It’s cold in there. I’m used to desert heat. I’ve turned into a lizard.”

His grandmother placed a loving hand on his cheek.“Good night, Barnebarn. You will find extra blankets in the dresser.”

Adam

Adam pulled open the dresser drawer, grabbing two gray Heimdall merino blankets. He spread them on the bed, glancing at the bathroom door. What was Eve doing in there for so long?

He shivered. Perhaps Erik was right about the frigid temperatures in Norway. Adam frowned. Funny, they had never bothered him before.

Perhaps he was getting old. Perhaps it was the chill that had crept over the back of his neck when he’d caught the last of what Bestemor had said to Eve.

He was so tired of keeping secrets, of watching what he said, careful not to let something slip. Most of all, he knew that the longer he hid the truth from her due to his fear of rejection, the longer the guilt weighed on him, eating at his conscience like acid.

He slid between the covers and rubbed his palms to warm them. If it weren’t so dark, he would probably be able to see his own breath. He had repeatedly offered to modernize the heating system in this old house, only to be refused. His grandmother liked it this way.

Exactly what had she told Eve?

She finally emerged from the bathroom, shivering slightly.“OK, no more milk mouth.”

He held up the covers, and she dived in, scooting close and wrapping herself around him. Her head felt good on his shoulder. He inhaled the faint scent of her Delina and kissed her hair.

She was still shivering. He rubbed her upper arms and back, trying his best to warm her up quickly.

After a while, she stilled.

“You good now?” he asked.

She kissed his jaw.“Always good when I’m with you.”

“My grandmother really likes you.”

He felt her smile against his chest.“I like her too. You were right about her. She’s tough.”

He chuckled.“Oh, yeah.”

She traced the muscles on his chest.“Oslo was not what I expected.”

“Oh?” He reached under her nightgown, inching it up.

“Yeah. Vigeland Sculpture Park, for one.”

“What about it?”

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