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A rushing noise sounds, and a glance out the back window reveals Law pulling the tarp aside. The sun isn’t high enough to cast light on what’s in there. I could crawl over the seat to peek, but he’s gone through so much trouble I don’t want to ruin whatever it is he has planned. I follow him with my head as he shuffles around to my door and opens it.
“You trying to snoop?” He reaches over me to unclip my seatbelt.
“What can I say, you have me curious.”
“Good. It’s almost time.”
“Almost time for what?”
“Arms around my neck, Cami.”
I sigh to mask my excitement at his game. Even though I want to make him repeat his demand, I slip my arms around his neck.
“Hold on.” He nips at my jaw, and my stomach clenches. Into his arms I go as if I weigh nothing. He carries me to the back, smoothly navigating the snow and ice, and sits me on the open tailgate. “Up. And under the blankets, baby. You’ve only got socks on.”
I purse my lips and mock glare. “Wonder why that is.”
He acknowledges with another grin and clambers up after me, kicking his boots into the snow. Together we wriggle into the mass of blankets and pillows he loaded into the bed of his truck. I don’t even think there’s a mattress beneath us. Just piles and piles of pillows. I discover the opening to a sleeping bag on the bottom and slide inside, propping my head on some pillows and dragging another down-feathered quilt up to my chin. Law slips in with me. His entire torso slides down the length of mine, eliciting a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold. He opens the metal box behind us and fetches a thermos and a cardboard box.
“Can’t watch the sunrise without breakfast.”
“Oh, what’d you bring me?” I clap my hands together beneath the blanket.
He hands me the thermos and flips open the top to the box. “I hope you still like cinnamon rolls.”
My eyes grow wide. “You didn’t! The ones with the super thick cream cheese frosting on top?”
There are three kinds of cinnamon rolls. Those with the barely-there glaze that chips off into sticky bits and tastes like watered down powdered sugar. Then there’s the kind with the thick frosting that looks like it’s going to be the best kind, but is merely an over sweetened imposter. The best, and only kind in my opinion, are the ones that have thick cream cheese frosting. Sweet, but not overpowering, so I can eat the entire thing without scraping off the excess. That’s the only way to eat a cinnamon roll in my world.
He suppresses a laugh. “Of course. What other kind is there?”
“Amen.”
Instead of handing one to me, he holds it out in front of my mouth. “Open.” The huskiness in his voice flows through me.
Letting him feed me feels a little strange. Less than twenty-four hours ago we were fighting in my bedroom, but I can’t resist the sweet temptation. That first bite puts a new smile on my face.
I groan. “It’s so good.”
Law grabs my wrist, extends my hand, and balances the rest of the cinnamon roll on my open palm. I’m weirdly bummed he isn’t going to feed me another bite. But then his other hand grabs me by the back of the head and draws me into him. I experience a special kind of sweetness.
He sucks my bottom lip first, trailing the tip of his tongue over it before doing the same with the top. Then he assaults my mouth, the warmth of his tongue startling against the frigid air from outside. He tastes rich and warm, like that first sip of coffee in the morning, and it’s the perfect complement to my yummy breakfast.
Either the sun rises fast, or we make out a long time. The next time I register something other than the feel of Law kissing me, is when dawn filters through my eyelids.
We break apart, and he tucks me into his side. The sun isn’t up yet, but it quickly rises. I make out the area beyond the snowy field, and I shift the cinnamon roll and coffee aside to sit up. At the winter wonderland before me, my breath catches.
Untouched snow glitters in the fresh morning light, covering rocks and pine trees at the bank of a river. It isn’t the river that captures my breath, though it’s elegant and a feature all on its own. The pools of icy water above and below two frozen waterfalls hold my attention. I can’t stop gawking at the beauty of the scenery.
Law nudges the hair away from my ear with his nose. “What do you think?”
The span of three breaths pass. “It’s one of the most incredible sights I’ve seen in my life.”
“Glad to hear, darlin’, because it’s yours.”
My head whips away from the scene where the climbing sun continues to expose unfamiliar shadows. Law digs something out from the box of the truck. A long cylinder clutched in his fist, he uncaps it, empties a roll of paper, and sets the tube aside. Over the down quilt on our laps, he spreads it out.
Neatly drawn plans stare back at me in the distinct diagram of a house.
