Page 93 of Goode Tidings

I love the idea of being a reckoning. I love the feeling of Callum's strong shoulders beneath my palms, too. My hands run over his body. His chest. Over his neck and up into his hair, traveling a return path. His head lolls back onto the couch, then he closes his eyes and sighs contentedly.

"I like the way you touch me," he says, sleep thickening his voice. It's sweet, and vulnerable, and the simplicity of the sentence makes my heart squeeze.

"Good." I nuzzle my face into his neck. "Because I like doing it."

Callum's breathing evens out. "Callum? Do you want to take my bed? Or, your bed with my sheets?"

His eyes blink open. "You don't mind?"

"Of course not."

"Will you sleep with me?"

"I can try to go back to sleep." I'm usually terrible at it, but I don't say that to him. I'm afraid he'll put up a fight about getting some sleep.

I get off him and stand, offering a hand down to him. He stands up woodenly, then takes my hand and walks with me down the hall to the bedroom. He yanks back the covers on the side of his bed that doesn't already have covers thrown back from it and climbs in.

I don't make it into bed before he's breathing deeply, rhythmically.

I'm too keyed up from the website he's built me and all the feelings that go with such a gesture to attempt to lie down.

Carefully, I close the bedroom door behind me, then make my way out to the kitchen. The first glimpses of dawn break over the backyard, and my hand flies up to cover my mouth. It's gorgeous. It's everything I imagined it would be when I first considered a year at this cabin. Snow covers everything. I'm not sure how much fell, but it's enough to make a wonderland out of the yard. I want to go outside and play in it, breathe the snowy mountain air.

Coffee comes first though, especially if I'm going out into the cold. I start the coffee, then consider my clothing options. Callum is sleeping in the room where my warmer clothing is kept, so I duck into Oliver's and grab the stuff we just bought from his closet. It's big on me, but it will do. Pulling on Oliver's clothes reminds me to switch last night's dirty clothes into the dryer. Seeing my clothes mixed with Callum's is odd, but in a good way. It's unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

I swing back through the kitchen, grab my coffee, and step out the back door.

Wow. That is cold. Like, really cold. Hmm. I take a few steps, my tennis shoes crunching. Isn't snow supposed to be powdery? This seems more icy. And I think my socks might be wet. Or is that what frigid feet feel like? I sniff. Is an instant runny nose normal? Am I the only person in history allergic to snow?

Disappointment fills me. I wanted to love snow. Dejected, I turn around to go inside. And then I hit the hard ground. Planted right on my ass, the wet and cold seeping through my jeans.

"That's humbling," I mutter, making my way back onto my feet. I make it inside without further incident, toeing off my wet shoes and peeling away my damp socks. I trade my wet jeans for a pair of sweats from the laundry. I prepare a coffee cake and slide it in the oven, glancing out the window at the view. It gets more and more beautiful as the sun rises, sending shafts of light out and illuminating the snow. Between the sparkling lake, and the sparkling snow, I am dazzled. Settling at the table with a slice of coffee cake and my toffee latte, I face the hard truth. Me, my bruised ego, and my sore ass prefer to look at snow, not be in it.

When I'm finished eating, I retrieve Callum's laptop from the living room but I'm stymied by a dark screen and a password. Setting aside his computer and my plan to peruse the website he's built me, I reach for mine. Callum's been right about many things, including how much I love to make a list. I open my Notes app, and then dive into learning everything I can about how to start an online business.

CHAPTER 44

Callum

I find Eden in the hot tub.

"Excuse me?" I call as I walk closer, stomping through the snow. I'm wearing my boots untied and sweats stacked over them, and the long sleeve baby blue shirt I pulled from the dryer a moment ago. I'm freezing, and this cup of coffee isn't doing much to warm me. "This is private property."

Eden whips around at the sound of my voice. She'd been staring out at the lake. Her shoulders are bare, hair wound on her head with tendrils falling against her soft cheeks.

"I live here," Eden says, deepening her voice. "If you want to see the lake, you need to go all the way around to the place where it says public access."

I laugh. "Is that exactly what I said?"

She smiles smugly. "Word for word."

The morning is gorgeous, but it's a bland comparison to the woman sitting in the steaming, bubbling water. Her cheeks are pink, from the cold air or the hot water I'm not sure. The sun climbs its way through the trees, lighting up the icy snow, making it glisten.

And Eden, unless she's wearing a strapless bathing suit, is naked in that water. I rise on tiptoe, acting like I'm peering over the edge of the hot tub.

Eden pretends to be scandalized, gasping and smacking the surface of the water. I can't see anything anyway, not with all those bubbles.

"Is it my imagination, or are you not wearing clothes in there?"