“I’ll get a fire started in the fireplace.”
There was wood stacked on the hearth and a fire-starter log on the grate. In no time, Roan had a fire going and she got to watch his magnificent backside as he worked. Getting pampered was nice. Really nice.
He straightened and winked at her. “I’ll go raid your kitchen and see what I can find to make a meal.”
“Don’t go to a lot of trouble, Roan. I have TV dinners in the freezer.”
“You need a solid meal for healing,” he said.
“I’m not sure what ingredients I have on hand.”
“You leave that to me.” He came to the couch, leaned over to kiss her forehead, and then disappeared into the kitchen.
Jazzy listened to him rummaging around, enjoying the sounds of him cooking for her. Nice. She curled up on the couch with Sabrina, mindful of her burned arm and watched the weather.
“Expect sleet for the next twenty-four hours,”the weatherman warned. “Bring in pets and plants. The temperature will slide down into the upper teens tonight.”
Jazzy shivered, pulled the blanket more tightly around herself and closed her eyes as the weather report shifted into a sports update. She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, Roan was in the room carrying a serving tray laden with two bowls of tomato soup and two grilled cheese sandwiches and a side dish of bread-and-butter pickles. Sabrina hopped down from the couch to stretch long before trotting off.
“Yum!” she said and moved to push herself up with her left hand, forgetting all about the burn. Pressure woke up the nerve endings and set them tingling. Wincing, she sank back.
“Easy does it.” Roan settled the tray on the coffee table next to the Christmas village she’d set up and moved over to reshuffle the couch pillows to prop her left arm.
“Thank you.”
He put a lumbar pillow across her lap and balanced the serving tray on top of it, and then he eased down next to her. “I don’t know what you like to drink, so I just brought water.”
“That’s wonderful, thank you. FYI, iced tea is my jam, but I’m not picky. I’ll drink most anything.”
The news had given way to a Christmas movie. Hugh Grant, Colin Firth, Emma Thompson.
“Ooh, ooh!” Jazzy exclaimed. “Love Actually!”
“Pardon?”
“Love Actuallyis my favorite Christmas movie ever.Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
“Here, snuggle up.” She spread her half of the throw blanket over him. “You’re in for a treat.”
They ate tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches and watched the movie, and when Jazzy teared up at the end, Roan reached for the tissues from the box on the end table and passed her a handful.
“Th-thanks,” she blubbered and dabbed her eyes. “Did you like the movie?”
“I did.”
“I love how realistic it is. Modern love is complicated and the movie captures that perfectly in every couple.”
“Hmm,” he said. “I guess I’m old-fashioned. While I enjoyed it, I really prefer the classics.”
“Do tell.” She turned toward him on the couch, her hair brushing against his shoulder, sending a ripple of sensation throughout her entire body. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie?”
“Will I look too predictable if I sayIt’s a Wonderful Life?”
“I knew it!” she crowed.
“Miracle on 34th Streetis Trinity’s fave. Although she’s only four so she hasn’t seen too many movies yet.”