We talked well into the night before her yawning got the best of her while we were snuggled in bed.
“Promise me we can use the fireplace tomorrow night?”
“Definitely, we can do anything you want,” I guarantee. She settled into the crook of my arm, her back to my stomach. I brought her in closer and she passed out a few minutes later.
I laid in bed awake for some time, my mind playing on repeat of our time we’ve had together so far and what I’m going to plan for in the future.
Christmas is just a couple of weeks away, and I know just what I want to do to make this one the best there is, even if I am on call.
I woke up before Kori, it was hard to leave our bed with her laying on top of my chest. I want that for the rest of time.
Placing the pillow from where I just vacated, I see her burrow deeper into it, and make my way out to the kitchen to start on coffee, breakfast, and getting the fireplace roaring. There’s a chill in the air and I don’t want Kori to get cold or become sick, especially if it’s something I can prevent.
I know as soon as Kori smells coffee, she’ll be up lightening quick. It’s one of the things we’d do when we couldn’t see each other. We’d FaceTime each other and have our morning coffee, both of us not thrilled with the fact we don’t have a real front or back porch.
So, first thing is first. I get the fire started, then head into the kitchen to prepare a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and of course, Kori’s much needed coffee.
19
Kori
I wake up and I’m cold, colder than I was during the night. It’s then that I notice Nate isn’t in bed with me.
Grumbling, I get up, slowly making my way toward the bathroom when the smell of coffee assaults my senses. Hurrying up and taking care of using the bathroom, brushing my teeth, also attempting to do something with this rat’s nest hair of mine. It’s a useless fiasco, so I throw it up in a messy bun, and make my way to the kitchen to find Nate.
Standing at the end of the hallway I take in the sight of Nate. He’s shirtless, his body, that I was lucky enough to map and catalogue every hard-chiseled muscle that he has on his body. Nate’s is on display for my viewing pleasure. I was lucky enough to be able to trace his tattoos that run along his inner and outer forearms last night while we were in bed, the moon that was high in the sky gave me just enough light to see every delicate line, and with his shirt off last night, I got to see exactly where they traveled.
Blushing and thinking about how he made me feel last night leaves me breathless. When I hear him clear his throat, I realize I’ve been caught, once again.
“’Morning, beautiful,” he rasps. Nate nods his head and I use that as my cue to come up to him, “Good morning, I didn’t like waking up without you,” I admit.
“Didn’t really want to leave you, but I knew it was getting cold in here and I didn’t want that,” he replies.
He holds me in his arms, tightening his hold on me and I cherish our moment.
The sizzle of the bacon in the skillet makes me aware he’s cooking, and if we leave it unattended, we’re liable to let the cabin burn down to the ground. I chuckle and we pull apart.
“Can I help you?” I ask Nate.
“Sure, the eggs are ready if you want to fry them up,” he responds.
We both work in the kitchen until our breakfast is done and then take our food onto the back patio to eat our food, both of us wrapped up in a blanket to ward off the cold.
By the time we’re finished, Nate and I are as frozen as a couple of popsicles. We place our dishes in the sink and abandon our mess to huddle in front of the fireplace.
“You getting warmed up?” Nate asks as he settles me in front of his spread legs, my back to his front. I snuggle in closer.
“Yep, right here in your arms, I’m always warm,” I tell him and those words mean so much more than just the temperature of our bodies being meshed together.
“Love being here with you, Kori,” he whispers into my ear.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here,” I reply, laying my head back, tilting it so he can see the truth in my eyes.
The rest of the weekend, it’s more of the same and part of me is dreading leaving the cabin, yet part of me misses my animals at the shelter, too.