Page 7 of Snowed in with the Bear Shifter
He grunted and took a sip of his spiked hot chocolate.
“So, you never did answer.” She waggled her eyebrows and rapped her knuckles against the deck of cards. “What do you say?”
Oh, he absolutely would love to see more of his mate and her gorgeous self. However, she’d been through a lot today, and playing strip anything with her tonight didn’t feel right. He wasn’t taking it off the table forever, though. If they were still snowed in tomorrow night, it would be a different story entirely. Because at some point, Eloise would be naked in his arms. The sooner, the better.
“You know, I think you’re just upset you didn’t get to see my bare ass earlier.”Did I really just say that out loud to her?A flush coursed through him, and he felt his cheeks heat again.
“Ooh, sassy.” Her beautiful brown eyes sparkled with delight. “I like it.”
Desperate to stick to his plan, he changed the subject. “What about a movie instead?”
“Not nearly as fun as my suggestion.” Her bottom lip popped out in a fake pout.
“There’s a whole bunch of DVDs in the drawer under the games cabinet. Why don’t you pick us out something to watch?”
“Does this movie come with popcorn?” she asked in a hopeful voice.
“I just fed you,” he said with a huff of laughter, fully appreciating her appetite. He’d feed her whatever she wanted,as long as it made her happy. “And made you a boozy hot chocolate.”
She gave him a half-shrug and a winsome smile as she slid off the couch and opened the drawer, inspecting her choices. “Don’t you have anything post-turn-of-the-century?”
“Nope.” He went back into the kitchen, determined to find the popcorn he knew he’d bought the last time Briar’s cubs were over. “What you see is what you get.”
“Don’t forget about butter on that popcorn.” There was a pause. “And maybe a beer?”
By the time he got everything together, Eloise was back on the couch under a blanket, remote in hand as she waited on him to start the movie.
He handed her a beer and placed the bowl of well-buttered and salted popcorn on the coffee table. After throwing another log on the fire, he sprawled next to her, slinging an arm along the back of the couch and spreading his legs wide enough that his thigh bumped against hers. “So, what are we watching?”
“A Christmas classic.” She pulled the popcorn bowl onto her lap and shoved a handful in her face. “Die Hard.”
“Good choice. Though technically, it’s not a Christmas movie.”
Her head whipped around, and she glared at him. “I know you did not just say that. You and me, Roar, we’re going to have to fight if that’s how you really feel.”
“Whoa, slow down there, feisty,” he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I’m willing to accept it has enough holiday references in it to be considered part of the Christmas oeuvre, but only if you share some of that popcorn with me.”
Her gaze traveled from the screen to the popcorn to him, her short fingernails tapping against the side of the bowl. “I suppose I could share,” she said, reluctance shading her tone. “But I’ll hear no more Die Hard slander from you, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a sharp salute.
She playfully smacked his arm. “Smart ass.” She scooted up against him, his chest becoming her backrest. After readjusting the blanket so it draped over his legs as well, she settled the popcorn bowl next to her hip so they both could reach it.
His heart clenched, and he froze in place, afraid to breathe too hard in case she realized she was practically sitting in his lap and moved away.
“So,” he said, his eyes on her crown, her dark blonde hair piled in a messy bun that brushed against his cheek and shoulder every time she moved. His fingers itched to bury themselves in the soft locks and tilt her head towards him so he could ravage her mouth. But he resisted. Barely. “You never did tell me why you were out in the woods this morning.”
“You never asked.”
“I didn’t, did I.” Breathing deep, he scented her, the delicate smell of apples and cinnamon surrounding him. “So, why were you all the way out at the top loop of the trail in the freezing rain?”
“I trusted the stupid meteorologist who said nothing about bad weather,” she grumbled, shoving more popcorn into her mouth. “And I was power-walking away my annoyance before I lost my ever-loving mind and turned several exasperating individuals into rodents.” She huffed and added, “Don’t worry. I can’t actually do that. My powers tend towards healing rather than curse work.”
He wasn’t worried, well aware she came from a long line of witches. Modern practitioners to their cores, she and her mother owned the apothecary shop in Stonyburn, which sold all kinds of tinctures, balms, and the like. His mom swore by their face cream, and his dad loved their bath bombs.
“Annoyance at what?” He took a sip of his beer rather than cave to the impulse to pull her into his lap and do his best to kiss away her problems.
“Family. My aunt and cousins are down for Solstice and driving me absolutely bonkers.” She turned her head to shoot him a look. “You don’t want to hear me whining, though.”
