Page 21 of The Viking Blues

A place they could start planning their very own someday.

Chapter Seven

Ollie hung up his leather apron, rolled his shoulders, and worked out the kinks in his neck. His muscles ached like a sonofabitch and it was only midday.Nothing a good long soak in an Epsom salt bath won’t fix.

Standing back, he stared at the ornate driveway gate he was building. It was ugly as fuck, but he didn’t design it and he didn’t have to live with it, so… whatever. He’d tried steering his client towards something more classic in style, but she’d been adamant this monstrosity was what she truly wanted. And giving his clients what they wanted was how he’d managed to make a living from his craft. Word of mouth was his most effective advertising tool, and happy clients loved to talk.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that he looked the way he did. More than one client—both male and female—had mentioned he looked like Thor. A fact he wasn’t shy of flaunting if it meant turning a potential client into a return customer. His natural combination of looks and charm won most people over.

Not that he’d always been that way.

Not many people would guess he’d been a shy kid, lacking in confidence and bullied at school because of his extreme height and slim build.

At least until a certain army brat moved to town and beat the shit out of his tormentors on his behalf.

He couldn’t believe Abby had brought that up at breakfast.Thanks, sis!He could have happily forgotten that day had ever existed, but Abby had always been a little awestruck by Mia, and understandably so.

She was pretty amazing.

Melville’s Cross was so small, it didn’t have a high school of its own, so the kids had to take the bus to the larger coastal townships. Ollie and Mia both attended one of the more prestigious schools, the type where the uniform included a mandatory blazer with an ornate crest stitched into the pocket.

Oliver had seen the Caldwells around town a few times during the summer holidays but hadn’t actually met Mia until their first day of high school, when she’d sat beside him on the bus.

On purpose.

“Is this seat taken?” she’d asked after walking straight past a dozen empty seats.

Ollie had shaken his head, then scooched over, sitting as close to the window as possible so he wouldn’t accidentally touch her.

Back then the girls didn’t appreciate what Ollie was capable of, didn’t know how much pleasure a pair of big, callused hands could wreak on their soft skin. Of course, Ollie wasn’t exactly aware of his skills at that age either, so he couldn’t totally blame them for keeping their distance.

Especially from someone they’d been told was to be avoided at all costs, no matter how ridiculous it might have seemed to anyone who actually knew him or his family. But prejudice died a slow death in a small town like Melville’s Cross, and there were more than a few good citizens ever willing to put Oliver and his siblings in their place should they get the chance.

Arseholes.

But apparently Mia didn’t get that memo and thought nothing of sitting next to him. As if he was a normal person and not one of Ulysses Bennett’s bastard children.

“I’m Emilia, by the way,” she’d said, and stuck out her hand. “Emilia Caldwell. But you can call me Mia. What’s your name?”

“Ollie,” he’d replied, shaking her hand. Then he’d swallowed hard before adding, “Bennett.” Then he’d sat as stiff as a board, waiting for her to groan in disgust and move to a different seat, but when she didn’t, he’d felt the need to tell her she should.

She’d looked up at him with doubt and confusion, the way his sister did when he told her there was no more ice cream. Like she didn’t quite believe he was being serious. “Why?”

But he was very serious. “If you sit with me, the other kids will pick on you.”

A slow smile had spread across her face as she’d looked up at him, her eyes bright and mischievous, and Ollie was smitten. No one had ever smiled at him like that before. Like they saw him.

The real him.

He was pretty sure he’d blushed.

“Now IknowI’m in the right seat,” she’d said with confidence.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we’ve only just met, but you’re already worried about me. You care. I like people who care about others. And if the bullies don’t like us being friends, they can suck it.”

Her statement had made him laugh out loud—hell, it still made him smile remembering how officious she was for a twelve-year-old—but it had also helped him relax, softened his rigid posture, and caused his leg to bump into hers. And he’d been quick to notice she hadn’t flinched away as so many had before. They’d talked for the entire bus ride to school, and again on the ride home. And over the days and weeks and months, they’d forged a friendship Ollie had thought unbreakable.

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