We stood at the window for a minute, watching the snow pile up on the back porch steps. The house smelled like cinnamon and pine, cookies cooling on the counter, and coffee still steaming beside the fire.
“Quiet again,” I said softly.
“Almost too quiet,” Drew said. “Think we should adopt a dog? Or twelve?”
“Tempting. But I think we should enjoy this peace for at least five minutes.”
He grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Five minutes I can do.”
I smiled and leaned my head against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding me. Everything about this place, the flickering lights, the hum of the fire, the way he absentmindedly traced circles on my back, felt like the life I didn’t know I’d been missing until I stumbled into it.
“You’re thinking too hard,” he murmured.
“I’m just… happy,” I said. “That’s new for me. It’s kind of weird.”
“Let me guess. You’re waiting for something to go wrong.”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “The last time my life felt this good, the universe sent me a car battery that died.”
He chuckled. “Well, your car battery’s new. The only thing dying around here is my self-control every time you walk past in those Christmas pajamas.”
“Smooth, Benedict,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Worked though,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.
It did.
He kissed me slow and sweet, the kind that made everything in the world go soft around the edges. When he pulled back, he didn’t go far. His forehead rested against mine.
“Mel?” he said quietly.
“Mm?”
“I’ve been thinking about something.”
“Is this about your ongoing feud with the smoke detector? Because I already hid the batteries.”
He laughed, a quick puff of warmth against my cheek. “No, not that. Bigger.”
I blinked up at him. “Bigger than the cookie incident?”
“Much bigger.”
He stepped back, and for a second, I thought he was just grabbing more coffee, but then he took a deep breath, and his hand slipped into his back pocket.
My stomach flipped. “Drew…”
He looked suddenly nervous. Drew Benedict, bartender, smart mouth, emotional disaster turned Christmas miracle, actually looked nervous.
“Okay, before you freak out,” he said quickly, “just…hear me out.”
“Should I sit down?”
“Only if you want to ruin the moment.”
“Excuse me?”
He laughed again, that soft, uncertain one I loved.
