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The next few days had been quieter than expected with Brynlee shutting down after her dream the other night. I didn’t want to push her to talk about it, so I gave her as much time and space as possible while she worked through whatever she needed. We didn’t get around to decorating like I wanted to, but at least we were both being productive with our writing.
It was less than a week until Christmas, and the worst of the storm had finally passed. We lost power for a bit, but thankfully, the backup generator worked beautifully, so we hadn’t even noticed. It would still be a few days before I could safely get down the mountain to go into town, but I wasn’t worried about it since we had stocked up on food and basic necessities.
I was heading into seven hours straight of writing, only taking a small break here and there to stretch and snack when needed. I’d made good progress on my manuscript and had officially reached the halfway point, but my brain was fried. I saved what I had, then shut down my computer and put it away.
Brynlee was in the kitchen, looking through the fridge, when I joined her. It was after seven, and neither of us had stopped to have a real meal yet, which was evident by my stomach’s loud growl.
She looked over her shoulder, staring wide-eyed as her leggings stretched tight across her ass. I looked away, feeling bad for checking her out.
“I was just looking for something to make for dinner,” she said, standing up and closing the door.
“Find anything good?” I asked, clearing my throat as I tried to ignore the subtle bulge in my pants from staring so hard at her ass.
“I’m kinda tired, so I thought a frozen pizza would be quick and easy. You?”
“I could get down with some pizza if you’re willing to share.”
“I’ll share the pizza, but only if you share the chocolate truffles you got from Sugarplum Sweets,” she said, smiling coyly.
“Fine. I’ll share my truffles, but you have to share your port wine.”
“Deal.”
She extended her hand to shake mine, but instead of thinking rationally about it, I grabbed it and pulled her into me. She stumbled slightly as her body fell against mine, her hands splaying across my chest as my arms wrapped around her lower back.
“I have one more condition,” I said, my voice low in her ear.
“Okay,” she breathed, looking at me under thick, dark lashes. “What’s that?”
“We eat in bed and watch a Christmas movie.”
She looked back and forth as if thinking about it, but I could see the humor in her eyes. I dug my fingers into her sides, tickling her until she giggled and squirmed against me.
“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “It’s a deal. But I get to pick the movie.”
I wrapped my arms around her again, not sure why it didn’t feel weird. But neither of us seemed to mind, so I wasn’t willing to rush the moment.
“No deal. You’re not picking the movie.”
“Why not?” She tilted her head and pouted at me.
“Because you’re going to make us watch some horror movie or a true crime documentary.”
“So? What’s wrong with that?” She batted her eyes playfully.
“Those aren’t Christmassy!”
“They are to me. Nothing says happy holidays like a bone-chilling murder to solve.”
“Something’s wrong with you,” I teased, shaking my head.
“Fine, you big baby. You can pick the movie.”
“Fine.”
“But I’m picking the pizza,” she insisted, jutting her chin out as she pulled away. “Hope you like pineapple.”
I lowered my head in defeat. She knew how much I hated pineapple on pizza after we talked about topping choices at the store. We had grabbed a handful of options, so neither of us was stuck with one we didn’t like.
By the time the food was ready, I had set the bed up for us with blankets and pillows galore. I wanted to make it a fun movie night, but I also couldn’t help but feel like it was a date. I knew it wasn’t, but something had shifted between us when I pulled her into me earlier, and I desperately wanted to explore whatever it was.
“Pizza is ready,” she called from the kitchen while I scrolled through the movie options on TV. Bert had several streaming services, giving us a broad selection to choose from, which was nice.
“I’ll be right there. Just picking a movie.”
“You better pick a good one. None of that Love Actually crap,” she teased over her shoulder.
“You know what? Just for that, that’s what we’re going to watch.”
I selected the movie but didn’t press play, so it wouldn’t start before we were ready. She was standing at the counter with her hands on her hips as she playfully glared at me.
“I went out of my way to make you a nice dinner, and you repay me by picking that movie?”
“You made pizza with pineapple, knowing that I hate it,” I objected, invading her space as I stepped closer to her.
“Are you sure about that?”
Her eyes trailed behind me and I looked back to see two pizzas on the counter, one special and one Hawaiian.
“You made me a different pizza?”
She nodded.
“Thank you. That was very nice of you.”
“Does that mean you’ll pick something else to watch?”
“Nope. Not a chance.” I handed her a plate and stepped to the side to let her go first.