Page 52 of The Viking Blues

“We’ll see,” she said. “But right now you have to go in there and teach that little girl what it means to be a Bennett.”

His brow furrowed as he absorbed her words. “You’ll be a Bennett soon. What does it mean to you?”

His lover slid her hands over his chest and straightened his shirt collar. “Laughter, kindness, love,”—she smiled up at him—“and acceptance. Knowing you love me for who I am, that you accept me, every part of me without question, that’s what’s important.” Then she winked. “And hugs. Lots of hugs.”

Yanking Mia into his arms, Ollie hugged her tightly, only releasing the breath he’d been holding when he felt her hug him back. “Thank you, Mia. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“Sure you could.”

“Fine. I don’t want to do this without you.” He cupped her cheeks and brushed his lips over hers one final time, willed her to feel his love for her in the gentle caress, then took her hand in his, relaxed when he felt her reassuring squeeze. “Let’s go meet our daughter.”

Epilogue Two

The Abbey Medieval Festival, July, two years later.

Sweat poureddown Oliver’s back and face as he pounded the hot metal into shape. Making arrowheads was fucking tedious work but they were quick enough to bang out for the audience and gave him something to sell to the other re-enactors later.

He was also acutely aware of Mia watching him from the shade of their tent, running her lustful gaze over his half-naked body. Did he preen under her potent stare, maybe flex his muscles a little more than necessary for the job he was doing?

Yes.

Absofuckinglutely yes.

And if it wasn't for the audience of fifty or more people milling around watching him as his sister narrated the demonstration, he would have thrown down his tools, picked up his wife and been balls deep in her luscious warmth before they'd even found their bed.

It was a distracting thought, one his brain refused to let go of, which made his job—and his cock—harder than anticipated.

Glancing up, he caught the direction of Mia's gaze. It seemed she'd noticed his dilemma too, and when she lifted her eyes to his he couldn't help but grin at her. When she sank her teeth into her bottom lip then slowly released it, teased him with the knowledge of what those teeth could do to his body, his cock twitched again and he had to suppress a groan of need.

Soon, sweetling. Soon....

“Blacksmithing is one of those rare occupations where the tools of our trade have not changed for thousands of years,” Abby told the crowd. “As you can see by the way my brother—”

“So you’re not married then?” a female voice called out from the midst of the onlookers, cutting Abby off.

Ollie huffed out a laugh and shook his head and his sister's lips pinched in a look he knew well. She was trying not to laugh. “To him?" she said, thumbing over her shoulder in Ollie's direction. "No, we’re not married.”

“Best news I’ve heard all day,” a different woman called out, followed by the twittering laughter and chuckles of others.

“Our resident shield maiden, on the other hand,” Abby continued, indicating Mia, “ismarried to him, and trust me when I say you do not want to piss off a Viking bride.”

Oliver watched Mia step from the shadows of their tent, her kohl-rimmed eyes narrowed and her favourite battle-axe in her hands. She looked glorious, a true warrior maiden dressed to kill with a studded leather breastplate buckled over her tunic, carved leather vambraces strapped to her forearms and her long, dark hair braided into a fauxhawk.

Picking up the whetstone Ollie kept close at hand, Mia began sharpening the axe with slow, threatening strokes. The rasp of the stone on the metal blade caused some members of the audience to shuffle their feet, suddenly nervous, until someone called out, “Is it true a wife was allowed to cut off her cheating husbands junk?”

Ollie chuckled at that old chestnut.

“Unfortunately no,” Abby said, with a twist of her lips. “Even the lowliest of men were allowed concubines and sex slaves, if they could afford them." Then she grinned. "But can you imagine if it was true? I mean, nothing says ‘keep it in your pants’ like a dick nailed to the wall.”

As the audience burst into laughter, Mia chose that exact moment to slam the blade of the axe into the large wooden stump by her feet. The blade made a heavythunksound as it bit into the wood and the audience jumped, then laughed again, only in that nervous way people do after a good scare: part on edge, part relieved, and a quick check of their pants to make sure they didn’t just piss themselves.

Mia folded her arms over her chest and sniffed, malevolent disdain written across her pretty features as she scanned the crowd, almost daring the women who'd called out to try and take what was hers.

Like she had anything to worry about.

His man-whoring days were well and truly done the second she'd come back into his life.

Ollie’s gaze locked with Mia's and his heartbeat ratcheted up several notches. The lust he saw reflected in her lovely eyes made his dick harden even more, and his need to end the fucking demonstration so he could act on that lust had him slamming his hammer against the anvil with swift precision.

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