Page 12 of A Heart of Winter
The fact that we were supposed to have a blizzard overnight came back to me and I sat up, almost tumbling off the couch in my haste to stand. The weather people had been threatening over a foot of snow, and Kai had stayed all night. Not that I’d have sent him driving home in the dark and snow, but—was he trapped? Stuck in the cabin with me because of the snow?
There was a flutter of concern for the idea that he was trapped with me and didn’t want to be, but he’d chosen to come, even with the threat of the storm looming. It had started snowing even before he’d arrived, and he had stayed all evening of his own accord. I hadn’t trapped him in the cabin.
Still, I was a little nervous as I poked my head into the kitchen. I’d fallen asleep on him, after all. Being athree-hundred-year-old witch didn’t mean I didn’t snore or occasionally drool in my sleep.
Hells, what if I’d drooled on him?
He looked up from the stove, where he was scrambling eggs, and gave me a bright smile. “Morning, gorgeous. Thought I’d provide the cooking for breakfast, even if it’s still your food, since you did all the work last night.”
Of all the sweet things, that . . . well, it should have been what I was expecting, shouldn’t it? Had I thought he was cooking just food for himself in my kitchen, and once I arrived, he’d tell me to get to work?
Maybe Morwenna was right, and I didn’t expect enough from people.
I glanced out the window over the sink and my breath caught. It was that perfect shining serene sort of morning I loved. The shell of crisp fresh snow like a seal over everything, renewing the world and making it shiny and new again.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Kai asked. “I love this sort of morning, after the snow. Stuck at home, nothing to do but eat and talk and sit in front of a fireplace.” He turned from the window to me, and winked before going back to his cooking. “And maybe make out.”
“Sounds like a pretty good day to me,” I agreed, sidling up next to him. “Maybe some hot cocoa.”
His return grin was wide and bright. “I knew you knew the way to a man’s heart after that dinner last night. I should make you my mother’s nikujaga sometime. I think you’d like it.”
“It’s a date. Next time you cook dinner and I’ll make breakfast.” I didn’t look at him as I reached into a cupboard and pulled out a pair of plates, just in time for him to finish the delicious, fluffy looking eggs. The toast was ready and keeping warm in the oven, already buttered, and he offered me the pot of apple butter from the fridge.
He was still smiling, and I found that I was too.
We hadn’t even had sex the night before, just fallen asleep in front of the fire, but . . . well, it it looked like we had gotten a good foot of snow outside. Maybe more. We were probably stuck inside for a while, so there was no telling where the morning might lead after we ate.
We ate breakfast slowly, discussing the dishes of our childhoods, which . . . well, it was a little harder for me to remember and explain things that had happened three hundred years ago in Sweden without making it obvious that I was three hundred years old, but I managed well enough that he didn’t seem either confused or put off. At some point, if this worked, I would have to talk to him about that. I didn’t like keeping secrets.
For Kai, he had grown up in America, but his parents had come from Japan, and a lot of his childhood had involved traditional Japanese foods, which I didn’t know much about. Learning new things was always a joy, though. It was basically my favorite activity, and if I got to eat a bunch of new foods along the way, so much the better.
“They’ve got great restaurants in San Diego,” he said, leaning forward and brushing a stray crumb off my cheek. “You could come visit and try them.”
“I could,” I agreed, and somehow, there was no hesitation in me. He wasn’t saying ‘move to California even though we barely know each other.’ He was talking about a visit. And maybe . . . “There are some great places in New York too. I’ll bet there are some wonderful Japanese restaurants.”
“There are. My mother’s favorite restaurant in America is in New York. She used to come visit me when I was doing my undergrad at Columbia, and sometimes I thought it was just for the soup. Maybe I’ll visit and take you there sometime.”
I was absolutely not going to swoon at the concept of being seen as equally worthy of being visited as doing the visiting.Morwenna had been right about everything. I was too used to an unequal relationship, and I had let it drag me down, think less of myself and my value.
“I’d like that a lot.”
He leaned in, his gaze focused on my lips, and right then his phone rang. We both groaned.
“Cate,” he whined as he answered. “I told you where I was going. I’m snowed into a cabin with the most gorgeous man in Minnesota. What could you possibly want at seven in the?—”
He paused and his eyes went wide, apparently shocked.
“Well that’s—that’s great. Johannes has 5G here; just shoot me the documents and I’ll sign off.” Another pause, then a little smirk and a glance at me. “Thank you, I plan to.”
“Plan to?” I asked, not terribly casually once he hung up. I wanted to go back to him calling me the most gorgeous man in Minnesota, even though that felt a little arrogant.
But he’d done it. Gorgeous. He thought I was gorgeous.
His smirk grew as he answered. “She said to enjoy my time snowed in with the most gorgeous man in Minnesota.”
My cheeks went hot, and for a moment, I couldn’t remember how words worked. Or my tongue. Or physics. Eventually, I managed to clear my throat. “And documents?”
He chuckled. “The couple who wanted to see the house last night? Apparently they’re stuck at the airport, and called her from there to say they wanted to make an offer at asking price for the house.”
