Page 18 of Married to Her Yeti
The tears came. Especially as memories from their youth flooded her mind. Her parents had been supportive, but Nima had always been her biggest fan, so willing to try all her culinary creations.
She clasped his hand and squeezed. “Thank you for the thoughtful card, your support, and this celebration. It means a lot.” Her damn voice cracked.
Nima raised his cider flute. “Congratulations, Mari. To your new start.” His gaze never wavered from hers as they clinked glasses and sipped.
It might only be apple cider, but it was the best toast Mari had ever received.
She cleared her throat, trying to chase away the threat of tears. “So, what did you do all day?” sheasked before scooping a spoonful of soup. “I mean, besides care for me, cook dinner, and plan a special celebration. I heard the chainsaw.”
Nima slathered butter on his roll. “I walked around the outside of your house looking for signs of damage. I didn’t smell natural gas or see cracks in your foundation. But your deck railing will need repairs. The tree that hit you is now nothing more than firewood stacked by your shed.” He paused, holding up a finger as he chewed and swallowed. “All but the top.”
After wiping his mouth, Nima rose and walked over to Mari’s door. He lifted what she presumed was the spindly top of the giant spruce tree. “We could either douse it in lighter fluid and torch it or decorate it for Christmas.”
Mari loved both ideas. She clasped her hands together. “Let’s decorate it, then torch it after Christmas. There’s a tub of decorations in my shed. Can you bring them inside in the morning? I hadn’t gotten around to setting up a tree this year.”
Nima agreed, and Mari placed her spoon in her empty bowl. Despite her aches and pains, she found herself immensely content. She’d eaten a home-cooked meal preparedforherinherhouseand sat at the dinner table like an adult while asking Nimaabout his day. They had a movie night planned. And tomorrow, on Christmas Eve, they’d decorate a tree together. She refused to overanalyze how much she enjoyed spending time with Nima. She needed to live in the moment. Besides, she deserved to experience a little holiday magic and be happy—for once.
CHAPTER NINE
This was not a date. Not in the slightest. Nima was enjoying a quiet evening with an old friend in need of support. And maybe if he kept telling himself that, he might actually start believing it.
He trailed after Mari as she hobbled into the living room on her crutches. Her moves weren’t graceful, but she successfully settled herself onto the couch without incident. It didn’t surprise him. She learned fast and possessed a natural drive to conquer and succeed. He inwardly grimaced. It was a wonder she’d waited so long to divorce him.
“Ugh,” Mari sighed as she scooted back and adjusted herself. “That wasn’t pretty, but I’m here.”She glanced at Nima. “You’ve got fresh ice packs for me?”
“I do.” He set the packs and an elastic bandage on her small coffee table before perching on the other end of the couch. “Let’s take your air cast off, wrap ice on your ankle, and stack pillows to prop up your foot.”
“Why would I need pillows?” Mari asked.
Nima paused. Had she already forgotten the nurse’s instructions? Perhaps he’d let her sleep too long today. “To elevate your ankle and reduce swelling.”
Mari cocked her head. “But aren’t you going to sit on the couch too? I’ll prop my foot in your lap.”
A warm sensation spread across Nima’s skin, lifting his fur. He had to use all his willpower not to smile like the giddy yeti he suddenly was. He feigned a casual tone as he said, “Sure, that works.” He’d willingly serve as her pillow anytime, anywhere.
“Otherwise,” she quickly added, as if in afterthought, “you’d have to sit in a stiff, wooden dining chair.” She gave him a discerning look as he positioned the ice pack and began wrapping the bandage around her foot and ankle. “You’ve been rubbing your lower back this evening. I’m sure ithurts from sleeping in one of those chairs last night.”
The chair had been horriblyuncomfortable. But sleeping near Mari in her hour of need hadcomfortedhim. It all balanced out, even with the crick in his neck and the ache in his back. “Since you’re on the mend, I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”
Mari eyed the couch as if she had misgivings about its comfort too, but only nodded. He was certain she wanted him out of her bedroom and to regain her privacy. She’d mentioned feeling exposed after he’d plucked her sex toy off the floor. Twice.
He had to stop thinking about that toy. Imagining her using a dildo that was a near replica of his cock would make his own dick drop in a matter of seconds. His sheath already throbbed in arousal just being around her again.
Nima covered Mari with a blanket, placed the remote within reach, then returned to the kitchen to clean up the dinner dishes and pop popcorn. As he put leftovers away, he called, “Should we make a grocery list for Tseten? We have eggs and bacon for breakfast, plus other odds and ends. Did you have anything planned for Christmas Eve or Christmas Day?”
“Don’t judge,” Mari began, “but it’s become mytradition to order an extra-large pizza with all the toppings from the Wildwood Brewery before they close on Christmas Eve.”
Had he heard her right? His mouth watered. Nima hadn’t had Wildwood Brewery pizza in over ten years. Despite being full, his stomach rumbled as he imagined eating a slice. He stepped into the living room as he dried a bowl. “That sounds fucking delicious. Who cares about other people’s holiday traditions? Make your own.”
Mari playfully offered him an air fist bump. “I’m usually alone on Christmas Eve, so I do pizza. And then I go to my parent’s house Christmas morning, drink an extra creamy cup of coffee topped with a tower of whipped cream, and eat a bunch of chocolate and mandarin oranges out of my stocking before breakfast. Nothing like giving myself heartburn before sunrise—Merry Christmas to me.”
Nima grinned at that. Who didn’t gorge on treats around the holidays? “My mom still puts mandarin oranges in my stocking when I’m with her for Christmas. Remember when they used to come wrapped in tissue paper?”
“Yes, the ones imported straight from Japan. Was that just an Alaska thing? I never see those oranges in the stores anymore.” She paused, then asked, “Doyou do anything special for Christmas? Any new traditions?”
He pulled out a pot and lid for popcorn, adding oil and kernels. “No, not really.” His post-Mari wanderings hadn’t been conducive to anything like that. “So, it’s extra important we keep your tradition. Plus, pizza sounds delicious. Do they still make the white pie with bacon and arugula?”
Mari chuckled. “Yes, you were the only teen I knew that liked arugula on his pizza. Let’s order a stack of pies tomorrow, and then we’ll have leftovers for Christmas. You might not be familiar with the brewery’s private back room. Tseten loves it. The kitchen delivers food through a small elevator. It’s one-hundred percent yeti-friendly. You can come and go from the building without being seen. What do you say?”
