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“Christmas comes early,” Nick says, taking a bite out of one of the snowman-shaped cookies.
I groan. “Could you stop with the cheesy Christmas clichés?”
“Just getting into the Christmas spirit. That’s what you want, right?”
I grab a cookie. “I want you to mean it. Remember what I said? Or have you forgotten your mountain man oath not to mock Christmas?”
He swallows and that smile falters. “You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Maybe there’s hope for him yet.
“So what are we watching?”
“The Muppet Christmas Carol.My favorite.”
“Scrooge,” he mutters under his breath.
“Seen it?”
“A long time ago.”
He slides his arm across the back of the couch as he sinks into it. His arm barely touches the back of my head, but it electrifies my entire body. And when I breathe in his scent? Game. Over.
I’m not sure how I’ll be able to focus on this movie.
* * *
A few thoughtscome to mind when I wake from the deepest sleep in recent memory. The first: Where am I? The second: How did I get into bed? And the third: What is that amazing smell?
Thankfully, it doesn’t take long to remember that I’m in the bedroom of my rented cabin, but the answer to the second question doesn’t come as easily. I have no idea how I got into this bed because I don’t remember falling asleep. The last thing I remember is the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come making their appearance to old Ebenezer Scrooge. Everything after that is black.
Did Nick carry me to bed? Tuck me in? Did he…
I look down and see I’m still in the same clothes I wore last night. Okay, modesty intact. Kind of. He saw far more of my body than any man ever has.
Ugh…Reliving the moment when my towel slipped yanks me from the cozy feelings I’d been basking in since I woke up. And now I’m so heated that I have to fling the covers off me.
I take a deep breath and immediately my body has a strong reaction to the answer to my third question: Nick’s scent is all over the pillow. Another breath. And another…
What’s wrong with me? I must be losing my mind because I’ve never been like this before. Then again, no man has ever left his scent on one of my pillows before. This is new territory.
I sit up, looking for Dasher at the foot of my bed, but he’s not there. He’salwaysthere. I’m surprised he didn’t wake me up for his breakfast.
“Dasher?”
When I don’t hear him, my brain runs through all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Did Nick let him out and forget to let him back in? Is he out there in nothing but his sweater? Did a bear… No.
I rush out of the bedroom only to find him curled up on the couch, his head resting on a blanket and folded pillow. I guess I’m not the only one drawn to Nick’s scent.
Speaking of… I don’t see the mountain man around. Maybe he decided that sharing a cabin with a Christmas fanatic wasn’t worth it after all. I’d be lying if I said I’m not disappointed. Even though it’s clear he doesn’t share the same affinity for Christmas as I do, I was looking forward to changing his mind.
“You like him. Don’t you, Dasher.” Dasher shoves his nose into the blanket and then groans. “Why don’t we head outside? I bet you need to potty.” He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look at me. “Food then?” Nothing. Is he sick? Does this town have a vet I could take him to?
I sit down next to him, giving him a few pets before letting him rest and heading into the kitchen to figure out what smells so good. There’s a note on the kitchen table.
Eva,
