I glance at the pan. “That’s… definitely what that is.”
He laughs. “Hey, it’s the thought that counts.Andthe chocolate chips.”
He slides a plate toward me, and I take a seat at the counter. Outside, the snow has stopped, leaving the trees heavy and sparkling under the majestic winter sun. The world looks hushed, like it’s holding its breath. I feel that way too. Like I don’t want to break the spell.
“This feels weird,” I admit.
He arches an eyebrow. “Weird?”
“Yes. In the best possible way.” I lean my elbows onto the marble countertop, my chin in my hands. “Normal. Like this is what it’ssupposed to be like. I guess, for me, that’s weird. Never had anything normal before.”
“Maybe it is.” He sets a mug of coffee in front of me, then mimics my pose, his elbows on the counter. “I know things aren’t simple. But I’m prepared to give you all the normal you can handle.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
“You better. I already canceled my plans to become a traveling circus acrobat.”
I laugh, nearly spilling my coffee. “Pretty sure you’d pull a hamstring in the first five minutes.”
He grins. “Rude. I’ll have you know I’m incredibly limber for a man in his thirties.”
“I’m not sure I want to know what that means.” My mind immediately goes somewhere delicious, knowingexactlywhat that means.
His telepathy game is strong. “Lies. You absolutely do.”
I roll my eyes, but the teasing feels good after the heaviness of the night before.
When I finish eating, he grabs his coat and waves me over before placing it over my shoulders. “C’mon. You have to see this.”
He opens the cabin door, and a rush of cold air hits my cheeks. The mountains stretch out before us, blanketed in snow, the valley below glowing gold from the rising sun. He wraps his arms around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. “This,” he murmurs, “is the way the snow catches the light after a storm.”
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper. His meaning isn’t lost on me.
“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “Beautiful.”
I can feel his stare. Again. Knowing he isn’t referring to the scenery or the path we’re on. My cheeks heat.He’s referring to me.
We stay like that for a while. Offering the warmth and compassion holding each other provides. No words, no expectations. Just the sound of wind through the pines and the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my back.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not waiting for the other shoe to drop.
No running. No hiding.
We stay outside until my fingers start to ache from the cold. Dave’s arms are warm around me, and I make no move to step away until he murmurs against my ear, “You’re shivering.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re freezing.”
“You’re bossy.”
“You’re adorable.”
I shoot him a look over my shoulder. “That line works on a surprising number of women, doesn’t it?”
“Only one.” He grins, then scoops me up, lifting me right off my feet, carrying me inside. “Now, if you could avoid getting frostbite before lunch, that’d be great.”
Once inside, he places me down. My bare feet hit the rug in front of the fire, and before I can come up with any clever quips, he tosses one of his soft, cozy throws from his armchair over my shoulders like a blanket cape. “Better?”
