"Don't be silly. Let me just get a dog bed for this little one and we can go up. What are you going to call him, anyway?"
"I'm not sure. He looks like a Buddy to me."
"Wait for me here."
My tone is sharp, and I cringe because I always seem harsher than how I really am. It's like a defense mechanism that takes over me whenever I feel backed into a corner. Having my hot crush go to sleep in my apartment with me is definitely doing strange things to me.
I come back with the dog bed and a little warm coat for the puppy. I put it on him and melt once more at the lost look he has in his eyes.
"Let's go."
Tristan follows me with the dog, and we take the back staircase upstairs to where my apartment is. There was a fight for thatapartment between all four of us sisters, but I won simply because I'm the last one out of the shop every single day.
I open the door and let them in. There's a chill in the air, and I close the door behind me. I switch the lights on and see that Tristan has already put the puppy on the bed on the floor.
"I'll get the fireplace going."
"I can do that."
I let him start the fire while I take my sneakers off and go to the bathroom to take a hot shower. I know I'm being a bad host and should have offered to make him coffee or hot chocolate or something, but I'm exhausted. I had already had a hard day before he showed up on my doorstep.
My bedclothes tonight are some leggings and a large t-shirt that belonged to my dad. I make sure to put on some warm socks and then go out to see how my guests are faring. Buddy is fast asleep in his new bed, and Tristan is in the kitchen making something.
"I hope it's okay. I'm making some hot chocolate for us. It might help us sleep."
I look at the clock on the wall, and it says two in the morning. That leaves me a couple of hours before I have to open the shop. If I can open the shop with so much snow out there.
"Can I call you Tristan?"
"You know my name?"
"Someone mentioned it, I think."
No, I've been stalking you from afar for months now.I can't say those words out loud, so I sit down on the couch in front of the fire.
"You're Emma, right?"
"Yes."
I don't know why, but I blush at the fact that he knows my name. I feel like a teenager with a crush. I just hope I don't make a fool of myself in front of him. He finishes what he's doing andbrings two mugs on a tray up to the coffee table that's in front of me.
The fact that he made himself at home in my kitchen feels almost intimate, and I find I like it. I see he's taken his jacket off and shirt and is wearing a white t-shirt. Even clothed, he looks too good to be true. Like a god that's come down from the heavens.
I take a sip from the hot cocoa and a moan slips my lips.
"This is really good. Thank you, Tristan."
He's sitting next to me on the sofa and sipping from his own cup. He's looking at me like I'm some enigma he wants to solve. I have to break the silence, so I ask the only thing I can think of.
"Why did you become a police officer?"
"After I left the military it seemed the thing to do."
"Is it very dangerous?"
"Not so much in a small town like this. It's less about crime and more about community. Not to say we haven't had any drunk and disorderly folk, but that's not the biggest problem."
"What do you think the biggest problem is?"
