Page 19 of Christmas with the Firefighter
"Okay?"
"Let's try. Let's be crazy together and see what happens."
The smile that spreads across my face feels like it might crack my cheeks. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She laughs, and the sound is bright and free and everything I want to hear for the rest of my life. "But I'm keeping the cabin reservation for one more night. Just in case."
"Just in case what?"
"Just in case you change your mind when you realize what you're getting into."
I kiss her again, harder this time, until she's clinging to my jacket and making small sounds against my mouth that go straight to my blood.
"I'm not changing my mind," I murmur against her lips. "Are you?"
"Ask me again tomorrow."
"I will. And the day after that, and the day after that, until you stop looking for the exit."
"That might take a while."
"I've got time."
She looks up at me, snow melting in her hair, cheeks flushed with cold and something that looks like happiness.
"So what now?"
"Now we go back to the inn. You cancel your checkout. We call the cabin and explain there's been a change of plans."
"And then?"
"Then we have Christmas together. Really together, without watching the clock or worrying about what comes next."
"That sounds perfect."
"Come on." I take her hand, interlacing our fingers. "Let's go home."
We walk back toward the inn through falling snow, and when she squeezes my hand, I know I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
The lobby is warm and welcoming when we push through the front door, shaking snow from our coats. The front desk lady looks up from the front desk with a knowing smile.
"Well, well," she says. "Look what the snow dragged in."
"Good morning," I say, not letting go of Miranda's hand. "I think there might be a change to the checkout situation."
"Is that so?" She looks between us with satisfaction. "I suppose that means we'll be seeing more of both of you?"
"Much more," Miranda says, and the certainty in her voice makes my chest warm.
"Wonderful. I'll just cancel that checkout, shall I? Room twelve is yours for as long as you need it."
"Actually," I say, surprising myself with my own boldness. "She might not need it much longer."
Miranda looks up at me with raised eyebrows, but she's smiling.
"Oh my," she says with delight. "How lovely."
We're in the elevator before I realize what I've just implied, what I've committed us to in front of witnesses. But when I look down at Miranda, she's still smiling.
