She didn’t expect to feel a firm, but gentle, hand on her shoulder, or be pulled against a familiar masculine chest.
His light jacket was stiff with cold, but the body beneath was warm and solid, as warm and solid as if they’d been curled up next to each other in front of the fire. That one stray thought was enough for Amy to bury her face in his shoulder, her shoulders wracking from the force of her tears. When Kenneth rested his cheek on the top of her head, tightening his arms around her, she only sobbed harder.
Kenneth didn’t try to tell her to stop crying, or assure her that everything was going to be fine. Everything wasn’t fine, and they both knew it. He kept one arm around her, while his other hand moved beneath her open coat. She stiffened, expecting him to try to take liberties, but he just pressed his palm against the small of her back, holding her even closer.
“You’re shivering. You’re going to get sick if you stay out here in the cold.”