“Elfis coming on next.” Jazzy pointed at the TV. “It’s my second favorite.”
“Mine too.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Wanna watch it?”
“I’d rather do something else,” he murmured.
“Oh? Is there another movie you want to see?”
“Nope.” He leaned in closer.
“Whatdoyou want?” She wriggled her eyebrows.
“I’d like to get to know you better, Jazzy. We rushed things the other night at my place. How about we just talk?”
“Sure. I’d love that...” She put her hand on his knee. “Among other things.”
“We don’t have to have sex tonight.”
“But it’s not off the table, right?”
He laughed. “Let’s just see what happens.”
The wind blustered against the house, shaking sleet against the windowpanes.
“We’re officially iced in,” she whispered.
“I keep chains in my truck during the winter,” he said. “I’m never truly iced in.”
“Darn it. I should have known you’d be prepared for anything.”
“I called Mom while I was prepping the food. Trinity is happy as a clam. Rio’s over there and keeping her entertained. She’s in good hands. Trinity and Rio adore each other.”
“So, you can fully relax.”
“I can.”
“And no one’s going to show up unexpectedly on my doorstep.” Jazzy paused. “You don’t get that much time to yourself, do you?”
“Single fatherhood is a full-time job,” he said. “But I wouldn’t change anything. Trinity is my heart and soul.”
“A little piece of Claire you’ll always carry with you.”
“Yes.” He hesitated. “Does that bother you?”
“Not at all.Love Actuallyis my favorite Christmas movie, remember. I get how complex modern life is.”
They were in the middle of the couch, their bodies turned to each other, their heads resting on the back of the couch as they gazed into each other’s eyes. It felt so easy here with him. So peaceful.
They started talking, getting to know each other better. Roan told her how he’d gotten into campfire cooking. When he was growing up on Slope Ridge Ranch, his parents had turned the place into a wedding venue for cowboy weddings to earn extra income. His parents had bought a chuckwagon to use for weddings, parties, and other catered events. Cooking on the chuckwagon had been Roan’s first job. From his dad, he’d learned to man a smoker like a professional and had quickly honed his skills. He started entering contests, mainly for the exposure to help grow the family business, but he’d gotten so good at campfire cooking, that the catering eclipsed the wedding venue.
When he and Claire married, they bought the ranch from his parents so the senior Sullivans could retire to a condo on Lake Twilight. Slope Ridge Ranch started making more money off the barbecue than the cutting horses. Claire was the one who brought desserts to the menu, adding Dutch oven cobblers, cookies, and dump cakes. Then Claire got pregnant with Trinity and Roan took over the campfire baking. For two wonderful years, life had been like a storybook—financial success, a thriving YouTube channel, critical acclaim, and a healthy loving family. And then Claire had a minor surgical procedure that went awry, and everything came crashing down. He stopped cooking. Sold the chuckwagon. Pulled the plug on the social media accounts and concentrated on raising his daughter. It was all he had stamina for.
“You knocked me out of my rut, Jazzy,” he murmured. “I’m grateful for that.”
“Same,” she said. “After Danny dumped me, I threw myself into volunteer work. It helped ease my grief, but it kept me from focusing on my own wants and needs. You’ve given me the skills I need to pursue what’s quickly becoming a passionate hobby. Baking.”
“What kind of things were you interested in before you met Danny?”