“Of course.” I lean in, kissing her. “Thank you for coming.”
We sit on the edge of the framed platform, her shoulder brushing mine, the blanket draped across our legs. The world is completely quiet up here, except for the occasional gust of wind that skitters a few leaves and twigs across the cement.
“This one’s gonna be someone’s dream house,” I say after a while, looking out at the structure. “Put all my favorite thingsinto it. Big windows, cedar beams, wraparound porch, fireplace you can see from the kitchen.”
She glances at me. “Why can’t it be your dream house?”
I shrug. “Don’t need all the space. Some family will enjoy it more.”
She studies me for a second. “Do you ever plan to build your own?”
“Someday,” I say softly. “When it makes sense.”
It’s easier than admitting I don’t know if I believe in that anymore. But she doesn’t push the topic, just tucks the blanket tighter around her legs. The sun dips lower, brushing the peaks in gold. I feel her lean into me, her head finding that spot between my shoulder and chest. She sighs softly, nestling against me.
For a long minute, I just breathe her in. The wind. The cocoa. Her. No one’s seen this side of me in a long time. Not since her. The ex who made me believe showing anyone your heart is just another way to hand them the hammer they’ll use to shatter it.
But looking at Hailey now, snuggled against me and glowing in the last streak of sunlight, I feel it. The quiet pull of wanting again. Of maybe letting go.
I turn my head, watching her face soften as the light fades. “You cold?”
“A little,” she admits.
I tilt her chin, press my mouth to hers, and savor the gentle, unhurried kiss that follows. When she shivers, I whisper against her lips, “Let’s get back to the truck. We need to warm you up.”
She nods, still smiling, cheeks flushed. We make our way down the slope, laughing when she nearly slips, her gloved hand clutching mine. The temperature’s dropped fast, breath fogging between us.
Back in the truck, I crank the heat, but before I can shift into drive, she places her hand over mine on the gear stick.
“Can we just stay here a while?” she asks softly.
I glance out the windshield. The ridge stretches below, the town’s Christmas lights twinkling in the distance like fallen stars.
“Yeah,” I murmur, turning the heat up another notch and flicking on the radio. Elvis’ low, bluesy voice fills the cab with “Blue Christmas.”
She settles closer, eyes fluttering shut, and for a few long, quiet moments, the world feels simple. This feels simple. Instead of a bomb that’s on the verge of detonating.
Her head’s still resting against my arm, her fingers tracing lazy lines across my thigh while Elvis hums low in the background. The truck’s warm now, the windows fogged just enough to make it feel like our own little world.
She shifts, turning toward me, her voice a quiet tease. “So, are you always this romantic, or is this a special occasion?”
“Romantic?” I snort, glancing down at her. “Is this what’s considered romantic these days. Seems like a pretty low bar.”
She grins. “Yeah, you invited me to watch a sunset, brought me cocoa and a blanket. That’s basically foreplay in Colorado from what I’ve heard.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I mumble, distracted by the way her eyes keep falling to my lips. “I guess I’m a big softie after all.”
“Oh, I don’t think anyone’s calling you soft.” Her hand slides higher up my thigh.
“Careful,” I warn, voice dropping low.
“What?” she murmurs, brushing her thumb over the seam of my jeans. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”
My breath comes out on a shaky laugh. “I think you like driving me insane.”
“Maybe.” She smiles against my jaw. “You make it easy.”
Then she kisses me. It starts slow, just our lips brushing, the faint taste of chocolate still on her tongue, but it turns hungryfast. One second she’s leaning in, and the next she’s straddling me, her coat half-off, heat radiating between us through too many layers.
