Page 44 of A Kiss of Frost
“You think Johnny will put on some weight now?” she asked, and he laughed.
“It’s possible, but you must remember that he is in his growth phase. I do not believe you will be able to fatten him up.” He smiled down at her. “Of course if you wish to make the attempt with me…”
“You are a very greedy male,” she said with mock severity.
“Indeed. But there are other things that are far more appealing than food. Perhaps we should have our own celebration after the children are asleep?”
Her breath caught at the hunger in his gaze and she nodded.
“I like that idea.” She hesitated. “But it’ll be a long time until then and there’s something I want to make sure you understand. I meant what I said. I love you.”
The glow in his eyes intensified, his hand tightening around hers.
“I love you too. I am only sorry that I waited so long to tell you.”
“I didn’t tell you because I thought you were going to leave me.”
“And I thought that you would leave.”
She lifted his hand to her lips and pressed a quick kiss against his knuckles.
“We obviously need to work on our communication skills. We should probably begin by deciding what we’re going to do next.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to do anything?”
“You mean, just stay here?”
“Why not? You were already prepared to spend the winter here. We have an adequate shelter, which I can make even more suitable. It is peaceful and quiet and we have access to a ready supply of stores. And I think the children are happy here.”
They reached the house as he finished speaking, and he gave her a quick smile.
“Think about it, and we can discuss it later.”
His lips brushed against hers for the merest second, but it was a promise of what was to come.
She thought about his suggestion as they prepared the house for the Longest Night. As they baked cookies with her new ingredients - cookies that the children decorated and that filled the room with the smell of spices. Instead of stockings she had made small bags from some of the extra fabric and she hung them on the ledge over the stove. She had little to go in the bags except a few treats she had discovered in the supply cavern, but Johnny had carved a small animal figure for each of the children and Jack had used his nanites to create small, sparkly bouncing balls.
After the meal, they all piled onto Jack’s bed and she told them all of the holiday stories she could recall – everything from Krampus to Santa to Old Man Winter and, of course, Jack Frost. After the younger children fell asleep, they carried them to their beds. Merry scurried up the ladder to the loft while even Johnny settled into his bed - and then they were alone.
She found herself feeling oddly bashful. It had been one thing to talk of love and plans for the future after such an eventful day, but now they were back to their regular life, did he still feel the same way? She snuck a glance at him from under her lashes and her breath caught at the warmth in his eyes. Her fears vanished like frost touched by the sun.
“I think I do like the idea of staying here,” she said as she started removing her clothing. “It feels sturdy and comfortable, the way home should feel. I’ve always wanted a real home.”
“You have never had one?”
She shook her head.
“My father always preferred to be on the road. Most of the traders choose to return to the same place each winter, and many of them create homes there. He wasn’t interested. There were quite a few winters when he didn’t even take a break. Instead, he’d take a smaller group down to the coast and trade there during the cold season.”
She slipped off the rest of her clothing as she spoke, and although his eyes were fixed on her body, he was obviously still listening.
“Would you be satisfied with this as a home?”
“Yes, I think I would. Like I said, it feels right, but it’s more than that. We’ve already started making memories here.”
“Like kissing in our bed?” he suggested and she laughed.
“Yes, that’s one of them. But also things like preparing for the celebration and decorating cookies. And even the simple things like having lessons at the table or making breakfast. Those kinds of memories are the things that truly make a home.”