22
The hours in Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday seemed to be double those of a normal day. Neither Benjamin nor Frank had called by five o’clock on Wednesday, and Olli texted Spur to say she didn’t need dinner, just ice cream.
He showed up an hour later with Chinese food and four pints of ice cream.
“Bless you,” she said as she took the grocery bag with the ice cream.
“Nothing?” he asked. “They didn’t call?”
“Not even a text,” she said. “No email. No update on the online portal.”
“No news is good news,” he said.
“How is that true?” she asked, pulling open the silverware drawer to get out spoons.
“Well, they haven’t rejected you yet.”
Olli supposed that was true. She took out a spoon and then the pints to see what he’d bought. “Butter pecan—that’s for you. Caramel swirl with fudgey brownies. This is for me.” She smiled as she opened that container.
Spur smiled at her. “I’m sorry, Olli. I’m sure they’ll call tomorrow, and I’m sure you’re going to get it. Who could possibly have done better than you?”
“I don’t know.” Olli took her ice cream to the couch and collapsed onto it with a sigh. “I don’t even know who the other finalists were.”
“You’d just drive yourself crazy if you did.” He stayed in the kitchen, getting out a plate for his food. He came into the living room too and said, “Switch me, baby.” He held out a plate of Chinese noodles and the sweet orange chicken she loved, and she handed him the pint of ice cream.
“Thank you,” she said, gazing up at him. He seemed to know exactly what to do to take care of her, and she sure did like that. He took the ice cream to the freezer, putting all four pints in before he dished himself a plate of food.
They ate on the couch, and Olli asked him about the horses and the ranch. He talked, though Olli knew he’d rather not. He stayed for a couple of hours, and then he groaned as he got off the couch. “Love you, Olli. They’ll call tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, standing to walk him out.
He took her hand and led her to the door, where he paused. He drew her into his arms and kissed her, and Olli didn’t mind so much if she didn’t get the grant. She had Spur, and he was the real prize she’d won from all of this.
“Promise me you’ll call me first?” he murmured, his lips dropping to her neck.
“Yeah,” she said as she breathed out.
“Mm.” Spur straightened and looked at Olli, his dark eyes firing with desire. “You want kids, right, Olli?”
“Yes,” she said, only mildly surprised by the out-of-the-blue question. They had been talking future plans, as well as revealing some of their hopes and dreams, every night since Saturday.
“But Spur, I’m forty-four already. I’m already pretty late to that game.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning if you wanted kids, and I wanted kids, we’d need to get married and get started on that immediately.”
He nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “Would you be opposed to that course of action?”
Olli blinked, surprised at the line of questioning. They’d talked a little about marriage in the past few days, but Olli had expected to fall more and more in love with him over the course of the next several months. Could she really call her mother and say she was engaged to a man she’d started dating two and a half weeks ago?
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m trying to decide what I’d tell my mom,” she admitted. “You should probably meet my parents before any engaging happens too.”
Spur smiled at her, his hand along her hip warm. “Make that happen, Olli.”
“I’ll call them in the morning,” she said. “Fair warning: If you think I’m messy, wait until you see my mother’s crafting studio.”