I tug it around me and give a small nod of appreciation.
He leans against the mantel, watching me with that little sideways smile that melts me faster than the fire does. “You know, I could get used to this.”
“Manhandling me?”
“Having you here.”
That stops me cold. I open my mouth, but he raises his hands like he knows I’ll deflect with sarcasm.
“Don’t. I’m not asking for anything. Just saying it’s nice.”
And it is. It’s dangerously nice. I clear my throat and glance toward the counter. “You got any of those sad snowmen left, or did you eat them all?”
“Please. I saved you the one that looks like it’s melting in existential dread.”
“Oh, perfect. My soulmate.” I snicker.
We end up sitting on the couch, the plate between us,Gunsmokeplaying quietly in the background. He’d managed to find it on his pricey satellite TV when I asked him if he knew who Miss Kitty was.
He hands me a fork and pretends to be horrified when I startfrom the snowman’s head. “Cold. Absolutely ruthless,” he teases. “No mercy.”
“Survival of the fittest,” I say, through a mouthful of pancake.
He shakes his head, amused. “You’re something else, Char.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s my favorite thing.” He winks. The way he says it, so soft and earnest, turns my stomach to butterflies.
I try to hide behind another bite, but he nudges me with his shoulder, trying to make me laugh.
“Don’t go getting all shy on me now,” he says, voice low, teasing.
“Who’s shy? I just never know which personality I’m going to get. Flirty and self-deprecating or he-man.”
He smirks. “That’s my backup personality. You’re getting the exclusive, limited-time soft version.”
I giggle, leaning my head against the back of the couch. “Don’t worry, I’ll still buy the deluxe edition if you throw in coffee service.”
He holds up his mug. “Done.”
Outside, the snow starts falling again. Lazy, soft flakes drift past the large picture window. Inside, the fire crackles, the western hums quietly, and Dave stretches his arm along the back of the couch until his fingers brush mine.
No grand declarations, no tension. Just two people sitting close enough for their shoulders to touch, laughing at stupid things a crazy character named Festus says, and pretending they don’t both know what this is.
The beginning of something completely unexpected.
When he finally leans in and presses his lips to my temple, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. And for the first time in a long time, I don’t think about tomorrow.
Just now.
Just this.
Just us.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
DAVE
