Page 11 of Season of Mercy
“It smells great!” Ethan’s voice made her turn around.
Mercy nearly dropped the knife. It wasn’t even five yet. “You’re home already? I mean, visiting me. I mean...” She was babbling. Why was she babbling? This was Ethan, the friend she’d known forever.
The man who now was herhusband.
He was already dressed in comfortable slacks and a T-shirt, so he’d probably stopped at the mansion to change.
“Yes, I’mhome.” Ethan stepped forward and hugged her.
The hug was gentle, non-intrusive, and still she felt it all the way to her toes. A wave of joy spread through her.
Huh. She shouldn’t be this excited that her husband simply came home.
Ethan gave her a long look that stopped at her lips, and her heart started beating faster.
“Mercy...” His voice sounded hoarse.
Her pulse went into overdrive. Was he about to kiss her?
The alarm sounded.
Ethan stepped back, and she fought the sting of disappointment.
Wait a minute.
Did shewanthim to kiss her?
“Rice is ready.” She turned off the heat underneath the skillet.
She should’ve set the alarm for thirty minutes instead of twenty. It would’ve made for fluffier rice.
Ethan sniffed the air. “You know I love chicken mole.” He glanced at the counter. “Guacamole, too. And yes, I prefer flour tortillas to corn tortillas.”
Mercy tensed. She knew him well enough to know what kind of tortillas he preferred. But she also knew him well enough to know that he liked the company of a different female each month or even more often.
“Thank you for making it.” He washed his hands and dried them on the kitchen towel.
“No need to thank me. I’m your wife, and I love cooking. Especially when I have ingredients to cook.” Her hand flew to her mouth. She shouldn’t have said the last part.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed for a moment. Then he headed to the stove.
Mercy intercepted him. “Oh, no, sir, you don’t. Wait until I set the table.”
“Sure. Let me help you.” Ethan grabbed a stack of plates.
As they placed plates then utensils on the table together, a new feeling entered Mercy’s heart. Cole had never helped her around the kitchen. Well, one of the reasons had been that he’d often been absent from family dinners to start with.
Ethan transferred chicken from the saucepan into a large dish and brought it to the table. “I’ll go get Stevie.”
Mercy nodded as she did the same with the rice. “Please make sure he washes his hands.”
Ethan headed in the direction of Stevie’s room, and moments later she heard her son’s excited voice, “Mr. Ethan!”
Whether her son was getting attached to Ethan wasn’t a question any longer. It was a statement. With Cole being gone from home a lot of the time, Stevie wasn’t spoiled by attention from a father figure. Mercy sighed as she placed the container of tortillas on the table. Was she a bad mother for introducing a ladies’ man into her little boy’s life?
There was a skip in Stevie’s step when he came to table. “Great, Mommy! So much food!”
Mercy swallowed hard as she put a pitcher with iced tea on the table. Her son wasn’t spoiled by the abundance of food, either. She’d done her best to provide for Stevie, but after all the damage Cole had incurred, her best wasn’t enough.
