Chapter 8
BLAKE
Ever since we left the general store, I'd been thinking about the Christmas decorations. Lights and pine garland lined the eaves of our little cabin, but we didn't even have a sprig of mistletoe to hang in the bedroom doorway.
Not that I was thinking about kissing Ollie, even when his plump lips dipped close to whisper in my ear as we hopped into the back seat of our rideshare together, our packages taking up most of the hatchback.
"What happens if your cookies ruin Christmas?" he asked.
We'd ruined our lunch appetites with all the free samples. I thought those days were long gone, but not in Pinevale on Christmas Eve.
"I'll have to come up with something else for dessert." If he was willing, I would offer myself on a platter. "Can we stop up here at the general store? I forgot something."
Ollie frowned at me, but he said nothing as our driver signaled and then pulled into the forty-five-degree-angle parking in front of the big window through which he'd watched me earlier.
"Thanks!" I hopped out. I was relieved when he didn't follow me inside.
Jogging to the Christmas aisle, I grabbed a quaint little porcelain cabin that looked a lot like ours.
It sat next to a snow globe that also looked like our cabin.
I couldn't resist. I scooped it up, too.
In the next aisle, I stacked several boxes of colorful lights.
Finally, I balanced everything on top of a two-foot tree box and carried it up to the counter.
The same young woman from earlier smirked at me. "I knew you'd be back."
"How?" I grinned. "I didn't even know I'd be back."
"You two are adorable together. It's sweet."
I blinked at her. "Me and …"
She pointed out the window to our waiting car, where Ollie's frown was still partially visible through the foggy windshield.
"Like I said, adorable." She rang up my items. "I'm giving you the after-Christmas discount," she whispered. "We're only open for another hour. I figure that's close enough."
"Thank you."
She packed the breakables into boxes and then placed them in yet another paper bag. Ollie had grumbled about paying five dollars for a roll of paper towels, and here I was getting more unbleached paper for free.
"Merry Christmas," she said with a wave.
"Merry Christmas!" The words rolled off my tongue without a single grief-filled thought. I tucked the bag and the tree box into the hatchback with the rest of our packages.
On the highway to the lodge, my thoughts drifted back to her cheerful farewell. My mind strayed to my parents, and I didn't crumble beneath the crushing weight of their loss. They were gone, yes, but I wasn't alone.
Not only that, but Ollie looked downright terrified when I mentioned I would make chocolate chip cookies with applesauce. I couldn't wait to bake him the best cookies he'd ever tasted.
It took two trips to get everything from the lodge back to our cabin.
Then, we danced around each other in the kitchen, putting everything away.
Unlike when my roommate and I had gotten groceries together back home, Ollie and I moved in tandem.
He seemed to sense my every move, and I grew attuned to his, too.
It filled me with warm fuzzies, as my mom used to call them.
Ollie started a fire in the fireplace, stubbornly using his paper towels instead of one of our many paper bags. Then, he disappeared into the bedroom. I had our cookies baked and the veggie lasagna ready for the oven when I heard a muffled, "Shit."
A moment later, he walked into the little hallway between the kitchen, back door, and bathroom and bedroom doors. "I forgot about our bed situation while we were out shopping."
"I didn't."
He frowned, but I didn't want to read too much into it. Did he want to spend another night together in the same bed? I kinda did, but not if it would annoy him.
"I found an air mattress at the general store, but it looked pretty shoddy. I doubt it would have held either of us for a night."
"I can walk to the lodge. They might have cots today."
I didn't like the way Branson had ogled Ollie when he checked in. "You could call him again."
"Better idea." He looked relieved, like he didn't want to see Branson in person. Unfortunately, the phone rang and rang with no answer.
"We'll go together." I turned off the oven and slipped the lasagna into the fridge.
Ollie disappeared back into the bedroom, returning with a thick flannel shirt with oversized buttons down the front and a sweatshirt hood. Inside, the lining was quilted. He held it open, a wordless invitation for me to borrow it.
"You don't even have a winter coat," he said when I tried to refuse his generosity.
"Don't you need it?"
"I have my coat." He pointed to the thick and glorious down-filled ski parka with a faux-fur-lined hood he'd worn on our shopping trip.
I sighed. I'd never been a fan of handouts, but his jacket would keep me warmer than my windbreaker alone. I slipped my arms into it and buttoned it up. Then, I bundled up in my mittens and hat, even for the short walk, and we were off.
I couldn't tell if the walks were heated, or if someone had shoveled recently. Either way, they were clear of snow.
The lodge was packed with twice the amount of people I'd expected for Christmas Eve. "Is something happening tonight?" I whispered in Ollie's ear. "Did we miss a party invite?"
"Okay, everyone," Branson shouted. The crowd quieted to a duller roar around us.
"I'm really sorry for the inconvenience!
We don't have any vacancies until the 5th.
Unless you want to rebook for another time or leave early, please exit the lodge.
I need to get home to my family, too! It's Christmas Eve.
" The last three words were more of a mutter to the couple standing in front of his desk.
"What's going on?" Ollie asked the man beside him.
"Every cabin is double booked." He frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "If my roommate wasn't the hottest man I'd ever seen, I would have found a hotel in town."
Ollie thanked him for the information. Then, he led me back to the hallway and turned to face me with his back to the room. "Do you mind sharing the bed with me one more night?"
"Not at all!" My over-enthusiasm wasn't as noticeable in the din of so many people talking at once.
The corners of Ollie's eyes crinkled when he smiled. "Good." He grabbed my mitten-covered hand and pulled me toward the door.
The crowd had gotten even louder as we walked away. I thought I was safe to whisper, "It's never an inconvenience to share a bed with a sexy bear."
Ollie turned around so fast, I walked right into him. "You mean that?"
"Yes?"
"I thought you wanted the cot, or an air mattress, or somewhere else to sleep."
"It's not ideal," I said. "I just met you, and we both came here to be alone, so sharing the bed seems a little too fast, too soon." He was frowning again, and I wanted his smile, instead. "It's a really comfortable bed, and it fits us both, if I could remember to stay on my side."
He chuckled. "I didn't mind."
His face was close enough to lick his plump bottom lip and to run my fingers through the thick stubble of his beard.
My hands were halfway to his shoulders to do just that when my fingers brushed the inside of my mitten.
Mittens were the least sexy outerwear ever.
I took a step back and dropped my hands back to my sides.
"Firewood," Ollie said with a sharp nod. "We should gather firewood from the woodshed."
When he said shed, I expected a building with four walls. It was more of an open lean-to off the side of the lodge with a roof to keep most of the snow off the seasoned wood.
Ollie laughed when I grabbed a piece in each hand. "You can carry more than that." He showed me how to hold my arms, and then he loaded me up with what felt like less than an entire tree, but a good-sized branch.
My arms and thighs burned by the time we got back to our cabin. Ollie stacked his on the porch and ushered me inside with the rest.
"Your pieces are smaller. I'll use mine to keep the fire going overnight." My pieces didn't feel small, but when he unloaded them into a pyramid on the stone hearth, it was half the size of his.
"Dinner," I said aloud to remind myself what I'd been doing before we left. The lasagna would take an hour and a half. "Do you want a snack?"
He looked like he wanted to say no, but his stomach rumbled.
"Loaded hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies coming up." I motioned for him to have a seat in the living room. Instead of the sofa, he picked the wooden rocker by the fireplace and pulled his e-reader from the front pocket of his flannel shirt.
I thought he wouldn't even notice the Christmas decorations I'd spread around the room, but then he called, "It looks festive in here. Is this why you went back to the general store?"
"Yes. I wouldn't have done it if I were alone, but …"
"Yeah." He stood and stretched, showing off a line of fur at his navel. Then, he ambled over to the counter and pulled out the stool closest to the little Christmas tree. Its fiberoptic lights turned all colors of the rainbow. It had mesmerized me while I baked the first batch of cookies.
I passed him the plate laden with chocolate chip goodness and turned back to the milk heating on the stove.
"Did your family go all out for Christmas?" he asked.
"Not really. We baked cookies together and watched Christmas movies, but that was it."
"Mmm." I turned to catch his expression as he bit into a cookie. He had his eyes closed as he licked the crumbs from his upturned lips and mustache. "So good. What did you say was in these, again?"
"Chocolate chips."
"Mm-hmm."
"Sugar."
"Yep. Not what I meant."
I laughed. "Applesauce."
"That's the one. Why do they taste like chocolate chip cookies and not weird apple cookies?"
"I happen to love apple cookies." I had a recipe that called for chopped apples and walnuts. They were delicious.
"These don't taste like apple cookies, though."
The milk was ready, so I poured it into the waiting cups of cocoa mix and my secret blend of chocolate syrup. Our cups had cute reindeer on them. I offered mine, and we clinked them together. "Cheers."
"Merry Christmas Eve," Ollie said.
I repeated the sentiment and grinned. I could do this, even with the memory of my parents lingering in the back of my mind.