Tomorrow is Christmas, and for the first time in years, I’m actually looking forward to it.
Rachel
I wake up first on Christmas morning. It takes work to escape Dominic’s cuddle, but I manage it. The snow drifts are taller today. When I open the back door, the snow is almost up to my chest. We won’t be going outside today. Good thing I’m right where I want to be.
By the time he rolls out of bed with sleep rumpled hair and his grumpy demeanor the kitchen smells like cinnamon and chocolate.
“Merry Christmas!”
He blinks, bleary eyed as I offer him a cookie, my take on a snickerdoodle.
“Merry Christmas,” he grumbles before he takes his first bite. His brown eyes open wide as the coffee, chocolate, and cinnamon hit his tongue.
“That’s right Mr. Grumpypants. I put espresso in them!”
He beams as he grabs four more off the plate.
“These,” he says waving one in the air. “Go on the menu.”
He steals another cookie, his fifth, technically, and the pleased sound he makes should not be as attractive as it is. He bumps my hip with his as he reaches for one more, all warm body and lazy Christmas morning smiles.
Then Dominic clears his throat. He wipes his thumb along the edge of his mouth.
“I, uh… have something for you,” he says.
My heart beats faster.
“A Christmas present?”
“Yeah.” He reaches into the pocket of his flannel, fingers brushing something metal before he pulls it free. He doesn’t just hand it to me, he steps close, pressing the cool weight of it into my palm and folding my fingers around it with his own. “Here.”
I look down.
Truck keys.
My breath catches.
“You can’t just give me your truck!”
His voice is quiet, steady. “Your car’s totaled. And I want you safe. This is the safest way down the mountain when the roads open.”
Down the mountain.
The words sink in heavier than the keys. The warmth of his hand fades too fast, leaving a cold ache in its place.
“Oh,” I manage. “Right. That makes sense.”
His brows pull together, barely a crease, but I’ve spent enough time watching him to see the shift.
“Roads should be cleared soon, yeah?” I ask, trying to sound light. Festive. Normal.
He nods slowly.
“Marcus and his crew will be working on it. But we’re not exactly top of the list.” His fingers hover near my arm like he wants to touch me again but isn’t sure if he should. “Rachel… are you okay?”
I force a smile.
“Yeah. Of course. It’s incredibly thoughtful.”
