We drive in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, his thumb absently stroking the back of my hand, before pulling into a large outdoor cinema lot. There’s not much snow covering the ground, and it’s not actively snowing right now, though the parking lot already has at least two dozen other cars scattered around, all facing a massive screen that towers above everything.
Jasper navigates through the lot carefully, searching for the perfect spot, and finally pulls into a space with a clear, unobstructed view.
Almost immediately, a woman bundled up in what looks like three heavy coats, a thick scarf, and a knit hat approaches the driver’s side window. Jasper rolls it down, letting in some of that wintry air.
“Good evening! First time here?” she asks cheerfully, her breath fogging dramatically in the cold air.
“For her, yes. I’ve been a few times,” Jasper replies with an easy smile.
“Wonderful! Welcome!” She hands through two small portable heaters. “You can attach these to your interior door handles, and they’ll keep the car nice and toasty. And here’s our menu if you’d like any snacks or drinks. I’ll come back in just a few minutes to take your order.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking the menu from her.
Once she walks away to the next car, Jasper quickly sets up both heaters, and the car immediately starts warming up. He rolls the window back up, sealing us in warmth, and turns to me with a satisfied grin.
“Best spot in the house. Perfect view, not too close to anyone else.”
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” I say, glancing around at the other cars, the screen glowing in the darkness, the whole romantic setup. “This feels amazing. Can you imagine how great this would be at Christmas, watching something likeElforHome Alone?”
“OrThe Grinch,” he adds, his grin widening. “The Jim Carrey version, obviously. I’ve actually done that here. They do special holiday showings throughout December. It’s incredible when it’s snowing.”
“Oh, so you’re a Christmas lover, then?”
“Who isn’t?” he asks, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Christmas is the best holiday. No competition.”
“Well, only the worst kind of people would disagree,” I say seriously, then smile. “It’s my favorite time of year. The lights, the decorations, the music, the whole cozy atmosphere of it. I love everything about it.”
His eyes light up like I’ve just told him the best news ever. “Well then, you and I are going to have an absolute blast when the end of the year comes around. You should see how many decorations I have stored up in the attic. And I have several trees. Like, six different trees for different rooms because one is never enough.”
“Oh, I love going all out for the holidays,” I say enthusiastically, bouncing slightly in my seat. “My apartment was always too small to do much beyond a tiny tree and some lights, but I’ve always wanted to just explode with decorations everywhere.”
He grins at me, that delicious smile that makes my heart race. “Consider it done. We’ll decorate the entire house. Every single room. The outside with lights. The yard. Everything. Go overboard.”
I’m struck again by how easy this is. How comfortably we fall into conversation about future plans. How natural it feels to be sitting here with him, making Christmas plans like it’s a given that we’ll be together months from now.
And I’m so attracted to him that it’s almost painful. The way he keeps reaching over to touch me. A hand on my knee. Fingers brushing my arm. The casual intimacy of it all making my heart swell.
I’m in absolute heaven.
“I never asked,” I say suddenly, realizing I’ve been so focused on everything else. “What are we even watching tonight?”
“The Princess Bride,” he says, studying my reaction. “Figured you might enjoy it. Classic romance, adventure, humor, quotable lines. Seemed like your kind of thing, based on what I know about you.”
“Oh, I love that movie!” I practically bounce in my seat with excitement. “This is going to be so good. ‘Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya…’?”
“?‘You killed my father. Prepare to die,’?” he finishes with me, both of us grinning.
He reaches into the back seat and pulls out thick, soft blankets and pillows, arranging them carefully between us so I can lean closer to him comfortably.
“This is super romantic, you know that?” I say, watching him fuss with the pillows to get them just right.
“Nah, I’m the least romantic guy you’ll ever meet,” he answers without looking up, but I can see the smile tugging at his lips.
I burst out laughing. “Yeah, right. Sure. The guy who just set up a literal pillow fort in his Ferrari for a drive-in movie date is totally not romantic at all.”
He grins sheepishly, finally meeting my eyes. “Okay, maybe a little romantic. Sometimes. When the mood strikes.”
“So how did training go today?” he asks casually, adjusting the final pillow.
