Page 27 of Special Delivery Cowboy
I pulled out everything—eggs, bacon, fancy sausage, fresh berries, waffle ingredients. We worked together, moving around each other naturally. He handled the bacon while I whisked waffle batter.
"How's this look?" He held up a piece of bacon.
"Perfect."
The waffle iron beeped. I poured batter, and within minutes, the kitchen smelled amazing. Coffee and bacon and cinnamon-vanilla sweetness.
By the time we sat down, the table was loaded. Waffles stacked high with sliced bananas, whipped cream, powdered sugar, and warm maple syrup. Bacon and sausage on a platter. Fresh berries. More coffee.
"This looks incredible."
"Eat up. You need your strength."
His gaze snapped to mine. "For what?"
"Cookie baking later. Obviously." I took a bite of waffle and flavors exploded. "What did you think I meant?"
"Cookie baking. Sure." But his dimple flashed.
We demolished breakfast—him putting away three waffles and most of the bacon, me matching him bite for bite without thinking about it. Just enjoying food. Just being myself.
After, we tackled dishes together. When I reached past him for a towel, he caught my wrist and drew me against him.
"Hi," he said, palm settling at my waist.
"Hi yourself."
He kissed me—slow and thorough. I melted into him, fingers sliding up his chest.
When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
Twinkle barked from the living room. We both jumped.
"Right.” I stepped back with a laugh. "Puppy needs attention."
We spent the next hour entertaining her—trying to teach her "sit" (she forgot after three seconds), watching her chase her tail until she fell over, laughing when she attacked a toy three times her size.
"She's ridiculous."
“Thousand percent adorable," TJ agreed.
"Want to check the weather? See how long we're stuck?"
TJ pulled out his phone. "Still no service."
I grabbed my laptop and pulled up the weather.
Red warnings covered the map.
"Blizzard warning extended through tonight," I read. "Highway 89 remains closed. Additional twelve to eighteen inches expected. Travelers advised to shelter in place until December twenty-sixth."
"Tomorrow then," TJ said quietly.
"Tomorrow." I looked at him. "Guess you're stuck with me another day."
"Can't think of anywhere I'd rather be." He settled me on his lap. "One more day of this? I'll take it."
I curled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Outside, the storm raged. Inside, everything felt suspended in a perfect Christmas bubble.
