"Wow, okay, well. Are they still together?" I asked, then I mentally kicked myself. "Sorry, I know you don't want to talk about them. I was just curious," I told him.
He sighed. "I ran into my mother today. She was the same as always, but yes, to answer your question, they are still together, very much in love, and completely absorbed with each other." Jack said the last part through his teeth. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I could smell cheddar-and-potato soup.
I opened the oven and jiggled the muffins. "I'll let them cook a little longer in the residual heat," I told him as I set them on the cooling rack on the counter. "That’s the secret to baking things like muffins or chocolate chip cookies. Undercook them then leave them on the pan to cook the rest of the way."
"How long?" he asked.
"Maybe ten minutes," I said.
Coming around the counter, he wrapped himself around me and brought his head down to kiss me. "It’s a shame about the lingerie," he said. We kissed again, our hands running up and down each other's bodies, until the timer went off.
Jack released me, and I grasped at him blindly.
"I want a muffin," he said with a grin.
And I wanted him to continue doing delicious things to me. Instead, I pried a soup muffin out of the pan and watched him nervously as he broke it open, steam rising from the baked good and swirling around his face. Jack blew on it then popped a piece in his mouth.
I clapped my hands when the expression of pure bliss bloomed on his face.
"This is amazing!" Jack said, smiling broadly. "I feel like we need to drag one of the camera guys up here just so I can show everyone in the world this muffin."
Shoving half of the muffin into my face, he said, "So you see that? Look at that! It's gooey and cheesy in the center and covered in bacon."
I took it from him and bit off a piece. "That is really good," I said around the piping-hot food. "It's like eating soup. But it’s a muffin."
"You should open a bakery," Jack told me.
I laughed. "I would like to, but I can't think about any of that until after this show is over."
After taking the rest of the muffins out of the pan so they didn't become soggy, Jack and I snuggled on the couch.
"I feel like I should have made you something more substantial than muffins," I said to Jack as I looked around for a remote.
"I use streaming," he said and pulled out a box of remotes, rummaging through it. He handed me a tablet; I stared at it and poked it.
"This seems unnecessarily complicated."
Jack pressed a few buttons on the giant tablet, and a menu came up on the TV.
"Just pick whatever you want." He brought the entire plate of muffins to the coffee table, along with the rest of the cookies I had made, while I picked a movie.
"Elf?" he said in disbelief as the movie started playing.
"You'll like it," I told him. "The main character is crabby like you."
"I’m not crabby," he said, pulling me against him as Will Farrell bounced around the screen.
Jack actually laughed at a few parts of the movie.
"Look who's embracing the Christmas spirit!" I told him. "We should have a Christmas movie marathon."
"I don't know if we want to do all that," he said.
The muffins and the movie were making me sleepy. Jack had a blanket wrapped around us, and Milo was half sprawled over our laps. I felt cozy and safe.
"I love Christmas," I told him with a yawn as the movie ended. "I love the smells and the food and the warmth inside while it's cold and snowy outside. My oma and I would cook for days before Christmas, then she would have all her friends and neighbors over—you know, the ones who were lone wolves or recluses or who didn't have family nearby. They would all come to her house."
"It sounds great," he said.
