Martha, not one to back down easily, huffed and crossed her arms, glancing at him. “It’s not entirely selfless. If Sofia comes,then Nat can spend the whole holiday with us, too. And we’d all be together.”
Zoe snorted. “A family holiday with that woman in this tiny place? Mom, she’d feel so out of place. I mean, she probably only eats lobster and caviar. Imagine her shock if she saw meatloaf or one of Nat’s weird dishes.”
“Hey, she loved my cooking,” Nat said defensively. “She even loved the sourdough.”
“Oh please, Nat,” Zoe shot back, crossing her arms. “She was probably just being polite. I’ve never actually seen evidence of these legendary ‘culinary skills’ of yours. For all we know, you just serve beans on toast.”
“Excuse me?” Nat put a hand to her chest in mock offense. “Have you forgotten I’m classically trained? I worked in one of the best restaurants in Denver before coming back home. I’m a great chef.”
“Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t know, since younevercook at home. Every time I ask for so much as an omelet, you’re like, ‘Nah, make it yourself.’”
“That’s because I’m always working!” Nat said. “Cooking three meals a day for luxury clients kinda drains a person, believe it or not.”
Their mother stepped in, shooting both of them a look as she set down another dish on the table. “Girls, enough bickering. And Zoe, don’t you dare complain about my meatloaf.”
Their dad chuckled, patting his stomach with a grin. “And don’t forget my famous leftover casseroles. That’s gourmet on a budget.”
Zoe let out a dramatic sigh. “Poor Sofia. Imagine, trading truffle risotto for Dad’s famous left-over casserole.”
Nat laughed as she glanced around the cozy but undeniably humble living room. The modest decorations and the well-lovedfurniture were indeed worlds apart from the luxurious lodge that Sofia had rented.
“Gourmet or no gourmet, your father and I are very proud of the life we’ve built here,” Martha argued. “There’s more love in this little house than in half the places I’ve seen, and don’t you forget it.”
The words lingered in the air, their weight settling over everyone. Zoe’s gaze softened, and she offered a slight nod of acknowledgment as she hugged a pillow to her chest. Nat felt a surge of love for her mother, whose kindness and openness had always made their little house feel big enough to fit anyone who needed it. Even someone like Sofia, who, despite all her wealth and confidence, had been so visibly affected by the kindness of a stray kitten.
Nat took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. A pang of something she couldn’t quite name bloomed in her chest—something between curiosity and an almost absurd fantasy of what it would be like to have Sofia here, in this bustling, imperfect household. The image was faintly ridiculous; Sofia, with her designer clothes standing in their modest living room, surrounded by Christmas lights and family laughter. And yet… it was strangely appealing.
She hesitated, then spoke, surprising herself as much as her family, who all turned to her in shock. “Actually, I’ll ask her,” Nat said. She quickly added, “But, um, I don’t think she’ll be interested. Still, I’ll ask her. You’re sweet, Mom.”
Martha walked over to Nat and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart. You never know—it might be exactly what she needs.”
Chapter Sixteen
Stepping into the lodge’s kitchen, Nat was met with a surprise: Sofia was already there. She was pouring a small dish of food, her figure wrapped in the soft glow of early morning light. Sofia was wearing a silk, black dressing gown that clung to her curves and framed her like a vision. Moxie, the tiny kitten, pawed at her ankles with enthusiasm, and for a second, Nat could only watch them.
Nat’s chest warmed as she leaned against the doorframe. What would she say? And what about yesterday and the night before? She wanted to kiss Sofia, to take her in her arms and let their bodies say what words couldn’t—but she didn’t want to risk her feeling awkward. What if Sofia had woken up with regrets and wanted to put it all behind them? But then, just as her thoughts started to spiral, Sofia looked up.
“Hey, good morning…”
Their eyes met across the kitchen, and in the quiet, tentative moment that followed, neither of them moved. Then, to Nat’s astonishment, Sofia walked over, her gaze intent, her mouth curving into a warm, easy smile. She lifted her hand, fingers grazing Nat’s cheek, and she pulled her in and kissed her as if she’d been waiting for this since sunrise.
“It’s so good to see you again,” Sofia whispered, her breath warm against Nat’s lips. Her hand lingered on Nat’s cheek, her thumb brushing against her skin. “It felt so quiet last night after you left.”
Nat’s eyes fluttered closed for a beat. “Yeah… it’s good to see you too.” Arousal spread like sunlight through her veins. Just that one little touch was enough to make her mind go to places it shouldn’t.
Moxie darted between their legs, pulling them out of their reverie. She was batting at a tube of lipstick. Sofia took a step back and looked down at the kitten with amusement. “She found my lipstick this morning and has been obsessed with it, so it’s hers now.”
They both laughed, watching Moxie swipe the lipstick across the floor with all her tiny might. Nat’s gaze drifted back to Sofia, the laughter fading as they locked eyes again. She felt the familiar pull—the magnetic tension that was simmering beneath the surface.
She reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Sofia’s ear, her touch lingering, and Nat was drawn closer, as if a thread connected them, an unbreakable, invisible pull. It was electric, raw, and as Sofia’s lips found hers again, she moaned softly into the kiss.
She was keenly aware that they lingered in a strange, delicate space between guest and hostess, between practical and impossible. But here, in this quiet kitchen, with Sofia's breath mingling with hers, Nat cared less and less about the boundaries that once seemed so solid. It felt so right, so simple, and it was clear the attraction was shared, so she let her hands slip around Sofia’s waist, pulling her closer.
“This is a nice start to the day,” she whispered against Sofia’s mouth.
“I’ve been up for a while, waiting for you…” Sofia inched back to look at her, her dark eyes smoldering.
“Have you now?” Nat grinned and only then realized the kitchen was dressed with evidence of Sofia’s earlier activity: an empty plate with breadcrumbs, some leftover sliced fruit, and a pot of coffee steaming on the counter.
