He groaned deep in his chest but didn’t open his eyes. “Mm.”
“My dad needs the address to the cabin. He’s trying to leave soon. It’s snowing bad outside.”
His voice came out rough and thick with sleep. “Get my phone, gorgeous. It’s on the dresser.”
I walked over to the dresser and grabbed his phone. The screen was black. “What’s the passcode?”
He let out another groggy exhale and mumbled, “Zero-three-seventeen.”
I paused, glancing over at him. “Your birthday?”
“Yeah,” he said, eyes still closed. “Open the cabin app. Confirmation should be in there.”
I unlocked the phone, scrolling through his apps until I found the booking one. His account was already logged in, and the booking confirmation was right there, clear as day. I tapped it and read the full address aloud on the phone once I took it off mute.
“Alright, got it,” my dad said after I finished. “See you soon, baby girl.”
“Y’all be safe.” I hung up again and tossed Woods’ phone onto the bed beside him.
Something about him giving me his passcode that quick… trusting me to go through his phone without hesitation… it caught me off guard. Most men acted like their phone was sacred. Like they’d rather get stabbed in the thigh than hand it over. But Woods didn’t even flinch. Just told me what I needed to know and kept sleeping like it was nothing.
Once I hung up and he started snoring again, I eased out of the room. I figured I’d let him sleep a little longer. We’d both been up late—him putting it down like he had something toprove, and me trying to survive it. Woods had been in rare form last night.
The hot shower hit my back, and I rolled my neck, exhaling. I cleansed, making sure to exfoliate, and use the good sugar scrub I packed. The peppermint vanilla one that always made me smell like a holiday snack. Once I got out, I towel-dried and took my time moisturizing with the matching peppermint lotion. I plugged in my curling wand at the small vanity table by the window and got to work on my hair.
By the time I finished curling and putting Bobby pins to hold the curls, it was time to get dressed. Since I planned on cooking, I just threw on some boy shorts and an oversized shirt. Then I grabbed the shopping bags from the bedroom closet and carried everything downstairs to the living room.
One by one, I pulled everything out. The Gucci cologne and the Gallery Dept. hoodie for Woods. The aged whiskey and silk ties for my dad. Then, it dawned on me that I didn’t even get his “lady friend” a card or anything.Oh well…
I sat on the floor, cross-legged, with my back against the couch, wrapping and taping while I occasionally sipped the orange juice I had poured earlier. The cabin was quiet except for the harsh wind outside.
When I finished wrapping everything, I slid the gifts under the tree and stood up to survey the space. I walked around the living room, straightening things up, fluffing pillows, and lighting a couple of the tea light candles I brought.
Then I grabbed the Holiday Hearth room spray I'd packed at the last minute and gave the cabin room a few generousspritzes. The whole space instantly smelled like cinnamon, pine, and a little orange zest. Christmas vibes for real.
Satisfied, I headed into the kitchen and pulled my phone out to start some music. I scrolled through my “Cozy Christmas” playlist and hit play on India.Arie’s version of Silent Night. The instrumental was soft, and her voice floated through the speakers like silk.
I opened the fridge to take inventory. The groceries we picked up the day before were neatly stacked. I pulled out the eggs, milk, cheese, and crescent roll dough to start on the breakfast casserole I always made for holiday mornings. Then I preheated the oven and began chopping onions and peppers while humming along to the music.
It felt peaceful. The snow was still falling steadily outside the window, and the tree lights cast a soft glow in the corner. My stomach was starting to growl, but I didn’t mind. The prep work gave me something to do. Something to center me. It was crazy that the nausea I felt days leading up to being around Woods was suddenly gone, as if it were my nerves kicking my ass instead of the life growing inside of me. I was grateful, though.
I cracked a few eggs into a mixing bowl and started whisking. Woods still hadn’t come out of the bedroom. But I had a feeling he’d show up soon… either drawn in by the smell of food or the sound of me singing along off-key to Let It Snow. I was mid-stir on the sausage and egg mix when I heard the deep shuffle of footsteps behind me. Then his voice came all gravelly and low as he kissed my cheek and slapped my ass.
“Smells like Christmas and good pussy Autumn in here.”
I turned, smirking, spatula still in hand. “Morning to you, too.”
Woods scratched his stomach and yawned, walking straight to the fridge in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants that sat low on his hips. He grabbed a water bottle, twisted the cap off, and downed half of it without breathing. I kept watching him. Big, shirtless man in the morning? Good God.
“You okay?” I asked, flipping the casserole mix into the baking dish.
He nodded, still drinking. “My stomach growlin’ like a muthafucka. What you cookin’?”
“Casserole. The kind with eggs, sausage, cheese, peppers… all the shit to keep you fed until the real food.”
He smirked and leaned against the counter. “You fed me enough last night, gorgeous.”
I rolled my eyes, but I felt that heat creep up my chest anyway. “Freak. Did you sleep good, though?”
