At Clover's command, her mouth formed a little bit of an "o" and she froze as well. It was not proper at all to be hugging a man where anyone could walk in, but he was offering and she was weak with the need for human contact. As if not of her own choosing, she found her way into his embrace. Oh, how it felt right, even as wrong as it was supposed to be. She had no business hugging this man, but that thought went away the moment her cheek found the wall of his chest. Yes, she thought, that was nice.

Frederic's breathing just about stopped when he wrapped his arms around Karen. He'd been inwardly panicking about offering until she gently laid her cheek against his chest and his mind cleared. This was the closest contact he'd had with a woman since the passing of Patsy, and he couldn't help but relish it. He knew this could be considered improper if anyone were to walk in on them right now, but he knew customers rarely came at this time as it was close to supper time for most folks and he trusted Clover to not go blabbering on about this moment to any of his school friends. Speaking of his son, the little boy proceeded to keep one arm and his legs around Frederic's leg and with the other arm, hugged Karen's leg, and Frederic let out a soft, silent sigh as he realized this was how it should have been. If Patsy had lived, it would be her standing here in Frederic's arms, but strangely, he only felt peace when he realized this, as if the conscience of his dead beloved was telling him to move on. Should he? All these thoughts ran through his mind as he stood there with Karen a little longer than he meant to, but he didn't want the moment to end, and apparently neither did Clover, for Frederic's son continued to keep a tight grip around both his and Karen's legs even when he thought he should step back.

She couldn't help but inhale, taking in a whiff of his scent. Oh. She bit her lip while he couldn't see her do so, caught up in the moment and feeling a certain way. Was it so bad that she desired touch? If Clover hadn't been there, would they then share a kiss? Her innards clenched in response and she felt the heat of it climbing the back of her neck and into her cheeks. She pulled back only as far as Clover would seem to allow them, her dark eyes filled with some deep kind of emotion that had yet to be named. "I should... I should go." She said it hesitantly, but she didn't want to go and it showed in the way she stared at him. Did she have to go? She could just linger around a little longer, yes? That would not be improper, would it?

Frederic swallowed back words he knew he shouldn't say. The look in her eyes clearly beseeched him to tell her if she should go or stay, but he didn't know what would be right in that regard. On one hand, he considered her babies- but they were with a neighbor, hadn't she said? And truth be told, he didn't want her to go. At all. Propriety barely crossed his mind. Surely the pie would get cold, he suddenly thought, and the slight inconvenience of it made up his mind. "Would you- would you like to see how a grandfather clock works?" he asked and gestured to the clock he'd been fixing a few minutes ago as Clover finally let go of their legs.

Clover looked up and saw the way Miss Calloway and his Pa were gazing at each other, and what he saw in their gazes' made him grin. He half-considered ordering them to kiss now- the hug command had worked, after all, how could a kiss be any different? -but decided against it and grabbed his toy from the ground. "Michael wants to play, I see him out the window!" he exclaimed and scampered out the front door as Frederic called for him to be back in a half-hour for supper. In truth, Clover didn't know any Michaels at his school (maybe there was one, he just didn't know him if there was) and was just going to play with the kittens in the small barn two doors down. They were the babies of one of the neighboring business owners' cats who'd said Clover could play with them if he was careful, so off he went, not knowing that by not explicitly matchmaking his father and Miss Calloway, he was drawing them closer anyway.

"Oh... Yes. By all means, Fred," she said in response to his words about the grandfather clock. Karen then looked at Clover as he up and left the two of them... she was soon quite alone with someone she ought not to be. The tension between them was thick enough to be rent by a kife... but it was the kind of tension that was a sweet ache within her belly, the butterflies fluttering about madly. She wondered if Clover really had a friend named Micheal or if it was just made up. She would not ask the question alloud, however, for it seemed like it would be rude of her to ask.

Frederic felt as if there was a tightness, a constriction, in his chest that wouldn't go away. It didn't hurt, per se, simply ached, but in a good way, in a way he hadn't felt in many a year. "Well, this is called the case, what holds every moving piece within the clock. Most grandfather clocks these days are shaped in a sort-of pear way, so the builder has to be careful where he places each cog..." As he went on, opening, poking, and turning things for Karen to see, Frederic felt an urge growing deep within his heart and forced it down, over and over, but each time he looked at Karen, it rose up again. He knew it was a risk, improper, wild- still...

She listened as he explained the inner workings of a grandfather clock, from the swing of the pendulum to the movement of the hands. Of course it was hard to concentrate on some of the things he said when all she could think about was the warmth of his embrace on a cold, winter day. Her teeth gently bit into her lower lip whenever he wasn't looking, and when he was, she was nodding and smiling at his explanation. "Frederic..." she said low, her hand moving up to touch his arm. She didn't know what compelled her to do so, but there it was. Her eyes dropped from his then and she said almost painfully, "I should go before something happens." Again, she didn't want to go, she wanted him to kiss her, damn it. She did not back away nor remove her hand from his sleeve.

"-before something happens."

Her hand on his sleeve. How she wouldn't look at him as she spoke, as if avoiding the words coming from her own mouth. The palpable tension in the air. The build-up of emotions in his heart over the last week-and-a-half. How lonely he'd been since his wife's death seven years ago.

All of these things contributed to Frederic making that something happen anyway.

One arm slipped around her waist as the other, the one with her hand on it, moved to grasp that hand. He pulled her in, and as her gaze inevitably moved up to meet his, he pressed his lips against hers with a sense of needing mixed with hope and soft power.

Oh... Oh goodness... He was pulling her to him, he then kissed her. She was stiff at first, wanting very much to be good and fight the feelings that stirred within her. But she soon melted against him, meeting his kiss with her own. Oh, but what was she doing? Harold... What about Harold? He would want her to move on... right? Her legs weakened beneath her. She felt languid, almost sleepy from his drug-like kiss. For a moment, she forgot everything but Fred and all was right with the world... And then reality came to her and she pulled her face back.

"What if somebody sees?" she choked out, but not out of disgust if the dazed look on her face had anything to say. Bugger on them, she thought. "Oh, bugger on them," she repeated out loud and kissed him again.