The warmth of the cabin wraps around us the second we step inside, and I realize how cold I'd gotten out there. My fingers are stiff, my nose feels like it might fall off, and when I touch my cheeks, they're ice cold. But the fire is roaring in the fireplace.
"Get yourself changed," Chase says, stomping his boots just inside the door. "You'll warm up faster if you take those wet clothes off."
I nod, grateful for the suggestion, and make my way to the bathroom, grabbing a small bundle of clothes I'd found earlier. When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I almost laugh. My cheeks are bright red, my hair is a mess from being stuffed under that hat, and there's a spark I haven't seen in my eyes in a very long time. Being out in the cold air seems to agree with me.
When I come back out, Chase has already changed and is standing in front of the fireplace, stoking the flames higher. He's wearing a pair of worn jeans and a thermal shirt that stretches across his shoulders, showing off the strong muscles there. I shouldn't be paying attention like this, so I force myself to glance away.
"Feel better?" he asks without turning around.
"Much. Thank you."
He nods and sets the poker aside, then moves to the couch and drops down onto it like he owns the world. I suppose in a way, he does—at least this part of it. "Might as well get comfortable," he says, gesturing to the other end. "There's a lot of downtime out here once it starts snowing like this. Unless I'm doing something for the agency, or going to get a delivery of food, I'm here."
"What do you do for the agency in the winter?" I can't think of anything they'd have him doing.
"A lot of record management. They make sure I have internet, and a laptop. While the rest of them are out and about in the county, I'm verifying and inputting records for the rest of the year. Believe it or not, it keeps me busy the entire winter, as far as working hours go."
Satisfied with the answer, I settle onto the couch, tucking my legs underneath me. Biscuit immediately appears from wherever he'd been hiding and jumps up between us, circling twice before plopping down. "What do you do to pass the time?" I ask, genuinely curious. I can't imagine being this isolated for months on end. I've never been cut off from the world like this, but I'm intrigued by it.
He shrugs, reaching over to scratch behind Biscuit's ears. "Put together puzzles. Watch a lot of TV."
I glance around the room, noticing for the first time that there isn't a cable box anywhere. "How do you watch TV way out here?"
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, like he gets this question a lot. "We've got electricity, but cable's a no go. I order DVDs in the summer, stock up on shows I haven't seen or ones I want to watch again. Keeps me entertained through the winter."
"Really?" I'm surprised by this, and oddly charmed. It's as simple as this man seems to be, it fits him perfectly.
"Come here, I'll show you." He pushes himself up from the couch and walks over to a cabinet I hadn't noticed previously. When he opens it, I see shelf after shelf stacked with DVD cases. Complete series, movies, everything organized and ready to go.
I move closer, running my fingers along the spines. "This is impressive."
"I take my winter entertainment seriously," he says, and there's a hint of humor in his voice that makes me smile. "Pick whatever you want."
I study the selection, surprised by the variety. There are dramas, comedies, action series, even a few I would consider more girlie. My eyes land on one set in particular, and I can't help the grin that spreads across my face as I pull it out and hand it to him. "Blue Bloods," I say, completely sure.
He takes it from me, looking down at the case, then back up at me with raised eyebrows. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I used to watch it with my..." I trail off, not ready to finish that sentence, not ready to bring my past to the present. "I just really like it."
If he notices my hesitation, he doesn't push. Instead, he nods and says, "Good choice. I'm on my third time through the series." He moves back toward the couch. "You hungry? I can pop some popcorn."
"That sounds perfect."
While he's in the kitchen, I settle back onto the couch. Biscuit has taken my spot, spread out like he owns it, but I don't mind. I scratch his head and he looks up at me with those adoring eyes, paws moving against the cushion.
The sound of kernels popping fills the cabin, and it's so normal, so domestic, that it makes my chest tighten. When was the last time I had a simple day like this? This easy? I can't remember.
Chase comes back with a large bowl of popcorn and sets it on the coffee table, then loads the first disc into the player. The familiar theme music starts, and I feel myself relax even more into the cushions.
"Scoot over, Biscuit," Chase says, nudging the cat with his hand. Biscuit grumbles but moves closer to me, creating more space for Chase on the other end.
We settle in, the three of us on this couch, as the episode begins. I reach for some popcorn, and so does Chase, and our hands brush in the bowl. He doesn't pull away immediately, and neither do I. When we touch there's a spark, but I'm not ready to explore what that means, not yet, and maybe not ever. The fact is though, Chase and I have chemistry, and I'm not sure how long I'll be able to ignore it.
"This okay?" he asks, gesturing to the TV.
"It's perfect," I tell him honestly.
And it is. The storm rages outside, the wind howling and the snow piling up against the windows, but in here it's warm and safe. Warmer and safer than any other place I've ever had. Chase is solid beside me, heat coming off his body keeping me warm, Biscuit is a comforting weight against my leg, and for the first time in longer than I can remember, I'm not thinking about what I've lost or what went wrong.
