The Snuggle Is Real (A Cozy AF Christmas 2)

“Maybe,” I say. “But I need some space to think about it.”

“Fine,” Bran says. “But if you want to sell, let’s talk, because you’re the creative one. I’m just the programmer.”

I clap my buddy on the back. “Have a good Christmas. And tell Melinda I’m sorry about the date, okay?”

Bran smirks. “You know, maybe what you really need is a good lay. You’ve been alone way too long, man.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I say with a chuckle. “But I don’t think there are many prospects in Juniper Junction.”

I leave the office, and head to my loft downtown to pack. I’m going to leave first thing in the morning. I figure I can stop at the gourmet market on the way out of town and grab all the best comfort foods. The goods for a cheese plate, a case of wine, some whiskey, and everything to make a Christmas dinner — with leftovers. I’m a foodie at heart — it’s why I got into food delivery apps in the first place. I wanted to make sure people had good food whenever they wanted.

Besides packing up some clothes, I put my favorite pots and pans and knives into a bin, along with seasonings. I haven’t been to the cabin in ages, and so I add some pillows and sheets to the pile to load into my SUV. I want essentials, but I also want to enjoy myself. Which means adding a dozen books to the haul as well. Nothing better than sitting in front of the fire with something warm to drink and a good book. I remember to grab those extra wool socks, hoping like hell I’ll have plenty of hours to relax without WiFi and without a screen.

In the morning, I load up the car, stop at the market, and head out of the city. It’s been a long ass time since I’ve left the grind, and I’ve never felt more ready to get a break from it all.Chapter FourCozetteTwo weeks. I’ve been here two weeks and I know that is two weeks too long… but oh my heart, I never want to leave.

After that first night when I discovered the Christmas ornaments, I took a long hot shower, debating the ethics involved in all of this.

In my heart, I know it is wrong to break and enter… but I also know that I’d rather have an hour, a day, a week of this make-believe life that I’ve created here than none at all.

So I woke the next morning and made the bed with care, washing the dishes after eating oatmeal for breakfast, and then mopped the kitchen floor. I may be a criminal, but I will be a tidy one.

I found chopped wood in a shed and made a fire — using up nearly all the kindling I could find to get it to catch. And I used a shovel to clear a path from my car to the porch. Then I washed the windows and used an ancient vacuum to clean the rugs.

Once everything felt clean, I began to carry the Christmas decorations downstairs.

However, an hour into the venture I realized that I was going to need a Christmas tree.

Finding an axe in the shed was easy, but trekking through the high, thick snow was less so. Still, I smiled up at the blue sky, frost nipping my nose, as I found a small evergreen not far from the cabin. I laughed at my ridiculousness as I worked to chop down the tree. I grew up in the city, so I’d never chopped a tree. Eventually though, it fell and I laughed, not having felt so free, so alive, in years.

After dragging it to the house, I impressed myself by managing to get it straight in the tree stand. I smiled at my little Christmas tree, feeling proud of my accomplishment.

Turning on the old radio tucked away on the bookshelf, I flipped the dial to a Christmas station, singing to myself as Jingle Bells filled the room. Each ornament was more beautiful than the last, glittering and sparkling, and my favorites were the ones with names embroidered on them. Joanne: Grandma, Tony: Grandpa, Luanne: Mother, Henry: Father, and Whitaker: Grandson. They were precious family heirlooms… but where was the family? Why were their decorations forgotten here at Christmas?

As the days passed, I settled into the house. Once the decorations were set up, I found myself choosing a book from the shelf and making hot cocoa, sitting by the fire and reading late into the night.

One day I spent the morning putting out a Christmas village on the mantel; another day I hiked through the woods behind the cabin and collected holly and cedar boughs, making wreaths as the snow began to fall outside.

I wished I had ingredients for Christmas goodies, and sorted through the pantry until I found something I could make. Fudge required chocolate chips — which I had, and evaporated milk — also in the cupboard. I ate plenty of pieces while reminding myself how to knit, having been taught by my grandma years and years ago. Because yes, in the hall closet I found a knitting basket with needles.