“What?”
“Your infinite love for all things chocolate. It compliments mine so well.”
He laughed. “Well, I’m happy there’s something you’ve always loved about me. That’s encouraging.”
By the time I left the pantry, he had the lamp lit and burning brightly. Somehow it made the whole place feel even warmer and brighter. He’d already managed to find a mixing bowl and a spatula, as well.
“There are several different kinds in there; you can pick the soup, if you’d like,” I told him. “I’m okay with whatever you want.”
“The beef minestrone looks good to me.” He handed me the large can.
“That sounds perfect. We also have that gift basket of sausage and cheeses I was giving to my dad. That would go well with the soup, I think.”
“I think you’re right.” He glanced toward the door. “I’m going to need to go back outside for a bit, though, while you’re doing this.”
“Why?” My head jerked up as I stared, horrified, at him. “You just got dry clothes on!”
“I’ll dry again; or I can put my wet jeans on. We need some more wood from the shed to get us through the night. There’s also a fireplace in the upstairs bedroom. I thought maybe we could sleep up there together, unless you’d rather I stay down here on the couch, so you can have the bed to yourself. There is also another bedroom through that door.” He pointed. “There’s no fireplace in it, though. I figured it would be easier to heat the place if we kept as many doors closed, as possible; but I’ll do whatever you’re most comfortable with.”
“There’s no way I’d kick you to the couch or a cold room after all we’ve been through today. And truthfully, sleeping in a warm bed sounds divine.”
“It’s a big one, too; so you’ll have plenty of space to yourself.”
I snorted. “If I can’t trust you now, Micah, when will I ever be able to?” I knew he was simply trying to help me not be nervous. “Besides, it’s not like we’ve never fallen asleep together.” My memories drifted to a campout we’d gone on with some friends, a few months before we broke up. Our parents’ hadn’t known there was mixed company and all of us had paired off with our significant others for the night. I was pretty sure Micah and I were the only couple who hadn’t had sex together, judging from the sounds occasionally drifting from other tents. But we did have a pretty hot and heavy make-out session before finally forcing ourselves apart. That had been one of the hardest nights we’d ever spent together. I was still amazed that we’d managed to put the brakes on our feelings.
Micah sat in one of the chairs and shoved his feet back into his boots, grimacing as he did so. It made me want to shiver just watching him. I was sure they were still pretty soaked and cold. He didn’t even bother trying to put socks on first.
“I’ll be back shortly,” he said, grabbing his small flashlight.
“Okay. This shouldn’t take too long to prepare.”
As I watched him walk out the door, I suddenly had the most domesticated feeling wash over me. Is this what it would feel like to live together? Just the two of us, all the time? In the few short seconds he’d been gone, I already missed him. Feeling fortunate to have him here, I wondered what the future would hold once we escaped this place. Would things get weird again or would this comfort between us continue?
My thoughts continued to plague me as I slid the cake pan into the oven and began searching the drawers for a much needed can opener to start the soup. Sighing, I gave up on worrying about what might lay ahead. For now, I would just concentrate on tonight, and making it the best it could be for the two of us.
Chapter Seven
Staring at the table, I surveyed my handiwork, feeling very pleased with myself. I’d managed to scrounge up a fairly decent looking red tablecloth, some bowls, spoons and a serving plate. I’d artfully cut and arranged the cheese and sausages on the serving plate, setting it near the oil lamp I’d placed in the center. More digging in the pantry had unveiled some single powder packets that I’d added to our water for flavor. I’d chosen the red tropical punch, since the color was festive and somewhat Christmassy.
The soup was still on the stove, on the lowest heat to keep it warm, and I glanced worriedly toward the door, wondering what was taking Micah so long. He hadn’t reappeared in the whole time I’d been preparing our meal. Granted, it had only taken about thirty minutes; but still, I worried about him being out in the inclement weather. Heading to the door, I wrapped my arms around myself and peered out one of the small windows into the dark, unable to see anything.
Heavy footsteps sounded outside and suddenly there he was, standing on the other side with his arms full of wood. “Can you open the door?” he yelled, and I quickly jumped to do his bidding.
“I was starting to get worried about you,” I said, closing it against the blustery wind that blew in with him. “I thought maybe you’d been eaten by a bear or something.”
“A bear?” Laughing, he dropped the wood in the box beside the fireplace. “Come on, Lissy. You were raised in the mountains. You know bears are hibernating right now.”
“True, but it seems I have a very overactive imagination during freak winter snow storms following car accidents.”
Turning toward me, he tweaked my nose. “I guess I can give you that. It’s still really coming down out there. It made the door to the shed a little more difficult to open. I need to go back and get some more.”
“Do you want me to come help you?” I asked.
“No. Stay here. I stacked a bunch on the end of the porch. I just need to bring it in.” He disappeared once more and I heard more clunking noises before he reappeared, dumping another armload into the box.
“One more trip.”
“Okay. I’ll leave the door cracked for you. I need to go check the cake. It smells done, but I didn’t really have a way to time it.”
“No problem.”
Hurrying to the kitchen, I grabbed one of the hot pads I’d left sitting on the counter. Picking up the fork there also, I opened the oven and stabbed it into the middle of the cake and pulled it out, checking it for batter. It came out clean and I smiled. It looked like it was done. Carefully grabbing the edge of the pan, I removed it, sitting it on the unlit burners to cool so I could frost it after we were done eating.
“Merry Christmas!” Micah’s voice made me jump. Turning, I saw him carrying a small pine tree, about three and a half feet tall, into the room.
“What did you do?” I asked, clapping my hands together.
“I cut off the top of a small tree.” He grinned widely, closing the door behind him. “This was all that was sticking up above the snow.”
“You defaced their property?” I was slightly horrified, and more than a little thrilled.
“It was toward the back of the lot. Hopefully it won’t be an issue.” Leaning the tree in the corner, he dug through his bag, retrieving the box of candy canes we’d brought with us. “Decorations?”
“They’re perfect,” I replied. “I can’t believe you did this!” Child-like glee swept through me at his kind gesture, flooding my heart with emotion. It was so incredibly thoughtful of him to do something so sweet.
“I know how much you love your family Christmas parties. I couldn’t let tonight pass without celebrating with you. You want to help me?” His wide smile beckoned me like a ship to a lighthouse. I wanted to throw my arms around him and smother him with kisses.
“Yes,” I replied, joining him, keeping my burgeoning emotions in check.
Dividing the treats between us, we quickly placed them around the branches. Micah went into the kitchen and opened a couple of drawers before revealing a box of tinfoil.
“I thought I saw this in there. Since you’re the craftier of the two of us, why don’t you try making a star for our little tree, while I dish us up some of that delicious smelling soup you just made? My mouth is watering.”
“All right.” I replied, timidly. I wasn’t nearly as crafty as he see
med to think I was, but I carefully pulled a sheet off and began folding it. “Hmmm. I think our star is only going to have three points.” I surveyed the slightly lopsided creation and raised it for him to see.
He cocked his head to the left, studying it for a mere moment. “Works for me. I say go put it on there.”
I cut another long thin strip and used it to anchor the star to the top of the tree. “There! It’s perfect.”
“I agree,” he said, smiling as he set the steaming bowls on the table. “Now, come eat. I can hear your stomach growling from here.” I believed his comment. I was terribly hungry.
Holding out a chair for me, he seated me, as if we were on a date in a fine restaurant. But he didn’t join me; instead, he went back to his bag.
“Now what are you doing?”
“We need Christmas music. I have a playlist on here.” Holding up the iPad in his hand, he brought it to the table as he shuffled through the screen.
My mouth dropped open a bit as I watched him sit down, before I narrowed my eyes to slits and glared at him.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“You had a Christmas playlist, yet you forced me to listen to that heinous music in the car? Why?”
Chuckling, he shrugged. “I was under the impression you hated me, then. It was a great way to get under your skin and annoy you.” At least he had the decency to look sheepish. “Will you forgive me?”
Sighing heavily, I nodded. “Well, you did practically save me from freezing to death today, so I could maybe consider it.”
“Good.” Propping the iPad on the table, he turned the music on softly, the sounds of classical Christmas filling the air. It was amazing how such a few small enhancements had completely changed the feel of our predicament. I was actually beginning to enjoy myself.
“Is it bad that we are having a nice time together when I know our families are worried sick about us right now? I feel so guilty.” Dipping my spoon into my bowl, I lifted some of the warm soup into my mouth, moaning in pleasure at the taste.
“I don’t think either of our families would begrudge us celebrating our safety tonight. I think they’d be very happy to know that we are okay.”
“That’s true.” Unable to hold myself back any longer, I dug into my meal in earnest. Silence ensued between us and I realized how hungry we both were. The day had been exhausting.
Everything tasted divine—as if it were a platter set for a king; and I felt very grateful, indeed, to have it. And, it was so much nicer because Micah was here with me. We didn’t speak, but we couldn’t seem to keep our eyes off each other. I’d catch him staring and he’d wink, causing me to blush and smile. It felt like when we’d first gotten together, back in high school. He still made my insides feel fluttery, and I liked that.
“You want some more?” I asked when he reached the bottom of his bowl.
“Sure, but I can get it.”
“No. You rest. You’ve done practically everything today. Let me do something for you.” Taking his bowl, I ladled some more soup into it and took it back to him, before returning to the sink to rinse off the spatula I’d used to mix the cake, so I could frost it.
“Need any help?” he asked.
“No. I’ve got it. But you can help me eat it.” Smiling at him, I brought the cake over to the table and started frosting it there, since the light was better.
“That looks so good.” He was eyeing it hungrily and I was glad he was enjoying his meal.
After spreading the creamy mixture, I went back to the kitchen to retrieve some small saucer plates. I brought them to the table and scooped us each a piece. The cake was still warm, causing the frosting to melt a bit and making it a gooey looking treat. “Forks would probably help,” I said, mostly to myself and I went to get some from the silverware drawer. “Bon Appetite!” I added as I set his in front of him.
He didn’t have to be told twice, digging right in and immediately groaning. “This is amazing! You did a great job.”
“Yeah. Add water, oil, bake and spread frosting. I’m a real culinary genius.” Still, his praise made me beam.
“I think this may be one of the best meals I’ve ever tasted,” he said, and I beamed even more.
“Me, too. Apparently traumatic experiences heighten one’s taste buds.”
“I think you’re right.”
I found myself relaxing and tapping my foot to one of the more lively Christmas carols.
“How achy are you feeling?” he asked out of the blue.
Stretching my muscles, I tested them. “I’m a little sore, why?”
“Care to dance with me?”
Surprised, I reached for my drink, carefully taking a swallow and using it to swish out any undesirable cake that might be stuck in my teeth. “Sure. Let’s do it.” I was totally game.
Despite the faster beat, he gathered me into his arms and swayed slowly with me. Resting my head against his shoulder, I found myself melting into the cocoon of warmth he created. The song switched to something slow and I couldn’t help the tingles that raced through me when Micah began tracing his hand up and down my back. It was such a simple thing, but it made my heart race just the same. I hugged him closer.
“Thanks for everything you’ve done today—keeping us both safe, I mean.”
He signed heavily. “It would’ve been completely unnecessary if I’d been paying more attention to the road. There wouldn’t have been any need for all of this.”
“Part of that is my fault. Our conversation was what distracted you. Besides, I’m not sure I would wish today would’ve ended up any differently, right now.” Holding my breath, I waited to see what he would say to that.
His fingers slid under my chin, lifting my face toward his. “I’m not sorry, either. In fact, I’d say I can’t think of a better way to spend Christmas Eve.”
Bending, his lips claimed mine, in the softest of kisses, merely a whisper of breath, but it sent shocks shooting through me like fire. “I still love you so much, Felicity. Please can we forget the past and start over? I need you back in my life.”
“No,” I replied, and hurt immediately shot through his eyes. “I don’t want to forget the past. We had too many happy memories together.” He relaxed immediately. “And I think we’ve learned an important lesson, too.”
“What’s that?” he asked, distracting me with another kiss, this time to my cheek.
“That no matter what happens, we need to talk to each other and not just assume we know what is going on. Who knows what would have happened if we’d have actually spoken with one another instead of assuming and believing other people. We could’ve bypassed all this hurt.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re as wise as you are beautiful?” He kissed me again, and I snorted.
“Whatever.”
“It’s true. And it must mean you’re extremely wise, because I’ve never known anyone more beautiful than you.”
I laughed outright. “Now you’re simply trying to get brownie points.”
“No, I’m not. It’s true. But saying brownie points is making me jones for a second piece of that chocolate cake.”
We both laughed as we broke apart.
“Let me dish you another.”
“Okay.” He led me back to the table and sat down, scooting his chair closer to mine and making my whole soul feel complete. I loved him.
Chapter Eight
Snuggling closer to the warmth beside me, I smiled to myself and sighed, trying to remember why I felt so content. Memories came swirling back to me suddenly and my eyes popped open, finding myself securely held in Micah’s arms. I loved seeing them wrapped around me in such a loving manner. He had obviously gotten up at some point in the night and shed his shirt—his chest now bare against my sweater.
Lifting my head slightly, I stared at the fireplace. The fire looked to be burned down to a few mere coals, but the quilts of the bed and Micah’s radiating heat were keeping us both amply warm. Bright light fill
ed the room, suggesting the storm had finally stopped. I wondered if anyone was looking for us yet this morning.
Last night had been wonderful. After dinner we’d cleaned everything up and then sat cuddled on the couch. Watching the fire, we shared our favorite Christmas memories and dreams for the future, until Micah swept me off my feet and carried me to the bedroom. Sitting up, under the blankets, I watched as he built a fire in fireplace and then slipped in beside me.
My lips and face still seemed to tingle with the kisses that had followed, his evening stubble lightly abrading my soft skin; but I didn’t mind. I adored the feel of it. However, even with the building passion between us, we still succumbed to sleep, the day’s wear and tear on our bodies eventually overtaking us.
“Merry Christmas, beautiful.” Micah softly voice spoke, as he nuzzled a kiss into my hair. “I never thought I’d wake up in bed with an angel, today.”
I giggled like a silly schoolgirl over his compliment. “And I never thought I’d be cuddled up with my own superhero.”
He chuckled, his eyes drifting over my face. “I’m no superhero.”
“You are to me; and that’s all that matters.”
“If you say so.” He smiled and placed a light kiss against my lips. “My muscles do feel like they were involved in a battle to save the planet, though. Does that count?”
“It totally counts,” I replied, hating that he was in so much discomfort.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Sore. Although I’m sure not nearly as bad as you are. It will get better once we get up and stretch everything out, again.”
“Probably. Shall we go see what Santa brought?”
Snorting, I rolled my eyes. “I seriously doubt this house was on his list last night. It was supposed to be vacant, remember?”
He gave me an appalled look. “Surely you believe in Christmas Magic? I mean, come on! He’s Santa Claus!”
“Of course, I believe.” I rushed to assure him. “I just know he was really busy last night. He may not have had time to make course alterations.” If he wanted me to play along with his child-like delusions, I was more than happy to do so.