The Christmas Blanket

And I wasn’t flying in a plane.

I was sitting cross-legged on a magical Christmas Blanket, floating over the cities and mountains and beautiful rivers.

And there beside me, holding my free hand as I pointed out everywhere I’d been with the other, was River.I woke the next morning to the smell of a strong pot of coffee brewing and the sweet sound of bacon sizzling.

I reached my arms up overhead, toes pointed toward the foot of the bed, letting out a giant yawn as I stretched. When my eyes finally cracked open, I found a slobbering Moose staring at me from the side of the bed.

I chuckled, “Morning, Moose.”

His tail wagged even more excitedly when I plopped my feet on the floor, and instantly, I reached for the pair of socks I’d stripped off in the middle of the night, along with my big sweater. Even with that and my sweatpants, I was freezing.

I took my time petting Moose, making sure to scratch his butt and behind his ears and under his collar like I knew he loved. Then, I looked out the window at the blinding blanket of white.

It was difficult to tell just how much snow had fallen because it was still falling — or maybe what had already fallen was just being blown around by the wind. I couldn’t be sure, but it was easy to see the conditions hadn’t improved much. It was cloudy and windy and there was definitely no way I was getting to my parents — at least, not anytime soon.

I made a pit stop in the bathroom, brushing my hair and my teeth before I made my way into the kitchen, rubbing my hands together.

“Hey,” I said, leaning a hip against the counter. “Merry Christmas Eve.”

A sort of grunt was the gist of the response I got from River, who was flipping bacon in a sizzling skillet on the stove.

Shirtless.

And somehow, he seemed to be… sweaty?

There was just a light sheen of gloss over his chest, his arms, his abdomen — all which were bigger than I ever remembered seeing. He’d always been more of the lean variety, thanks to years of playing baseball, but he’d filled out. The ridges of his abs were thick and cut, his biceps round and full, chest puffed without trying.

Those lean lines and edges led all the way down to where a pair of black jogger pants hung on his hips, and I’d have been blind not to see just how well fitted they were in certain areas.

When my eyes made their way back up to River’s face, he was already looking at me.

Which meant he’d definitely caught me staring.

“Aren’t you freezing?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

I thought I saw a little smirk at the corner of his lips, but he turned back to the bacon before I could be sure. “Just worked out. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“You didn’t,” I said, ignoring the little visions frolicking in my head at the thought of what kind of workout he’d done. Then, I walked over to the pot of coffee. “This did.”

“Help yourself. Mugs are up there.” He nodded toward one of the cabinets before taking the bacon off the skillet and setting the strips on a paper towel-covered plate. He reached into the fridge next for the carton of eggs, setting six of them on the counter and dropping the first two into the still sizzling skillet.

I added a touch of sugar to my coffee once it was poured, and as soon as I took the first sip, my chest warmed, and I sighed with relief. “Thank you,” I said, tilting my mug toward him.

A nod was my only response.

For a while, I just watched him cook the eggs, heart warming a little when I realized he was making two of them scrambled, the way I liked them, while he made the rest sunny side up.

He remembered.

I sipped my coffee, wrapping my hands around the mug to soak up all the warmth I could. “You’re a pretty great host for someone who wasn’t expecting anyone.”

A shrug.

“Did you see the tree?”

A nod.

“Well, do you like it?”

“I liked it just as well before.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “You’re such a Scrooge. Come on, you know it’s pretty. You picked out half of those ornaments. And I even hung up your favorite wreath,” I said, pointing to the front door. “Provided, it’s on the inside when it should be on the outside, but at least we can see it this way.”

River finished the last of the eggs, and then he served up my scrambled and a few slices of bacon on a plate and handed it to me. “I didn’t make toast.”

I chuckled, taking the plate. “Thank you.” Then, I nudged him. “See? See how easy that is, those two simple words? You should try them sometime.”