7. Noah

Chapter 7

Noah

The early light filters softly through the cabin windows, casting gentle shadows across the wooden floor like familiar phantoms. I blink awake slowly, the remnants of last night weaving through my senses as an indelible mix of wonder and awe. It takes a moment to gather myself, to situate my thoughts in this new and deeply welcomed normal.

Scarlett is cuddled against me, her breathing slow and steady. Her wild cascade of red hair splayed across the pillow was tousled by sleep and our late-night exercise. She's undeniably beautiful, more so in this honest light which strips away everything but her perfectness. Being here with her feels right in every conceivable way.

And then there’s Minnie, nestled annoyingly close to my chest, occupying my pillow as if she owns it. Her purring is low and constant, like a little motor signaling she’s claimed her territory. I can’t help but smirk. Who knew I’d find myself here? This scene of unexpected domesticity, brought together by a snowstorm and circumstances far beyond my control, feels like the most natural thing in the world.

I glance down at Scarlett, noting the way her eyelashes cast delicate shadows on her cheeks. Every detail of her perfect face carves itself deeper into my memory. How fiercely I’m in love with her hits me with the force of a freight train. I want her beside me, not just in the quiet of a snow-bound morning but in the wild chaos of everyday life. I want to wake up to her fiery hair and her stubborn cat every goddamn day for the rest of my life.

Gently, I move to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, watching her stir into wakefulness. She mumbles something incomprehensible, the sound soft and grumbling, and I smile.

“Morning.” Her voice is groggy as she blinks into wakefulness, meeting my gaze with a sleepy grin.

“Morning,” I reply and lean over to kiss her soft lips.

She stretches lazily, and as her hand finds mine, I squeeze it lightly, assuring her what we found here is real. Her eyes flutter open, focusing on mine.

“This is a great way to wake up,” she muses aloud. “You sure you don’t mind sharing your pillow with Minnie?” There’s a hint of a tease in her voice, a nod to my journey from cat-tolerable to pseudo-cat-loving.

I let out a low laugh, shrugging against the pillows. “She’s grown on me kinda like her owner has.”

A soft, playful smack on the arm tells me I’ve hit my mark, and the cabin fills with our mutual laughter, drowning out the storm outside. “I’m glad.” She sighs and I realize I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy.

“Coffee?” I suggest, knowing my curvy little firecracker needs her morning caffeine kick.

“You stocked up on coffee, too?” She sighs in relief and snuggles back under the covers, muttering, “You are the perfect guy, but it’s too cold to get up.”

“I’ll get the coffee started while you find something warm to wear from my closet.” I rise, unwillingly leaving the cozy cocoon we’ve created.

“Sounds like a plan,” she mumbles from under the covers as I pull on gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

As I prepare the coffee, listening to the sound of Scarlett engaging Minnie in a morning routine punctuated by demands for attention, I’m engulfed by a sense of rightness, an unfamiliar contentment so visceral it seems to redefine everything I thought I knew about living. The scent of brewing coffee permeates the air within a few minutes.

I pour us each a cup of coffee and head to the living room to find her sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with Minnie predictably settled on her lap, both completely at home. She looks up, accepting the mug. “Thank you so much. I need my morning caffeine infusion.”

“I know,” I mutter and sit down next to her. She’d be shocked to find out what I know about her. I’ve spent the last six months learning every single thing there is to know about her.

“How’d you sleep?” she asks, leaning her head back against the sofa.

“Better than I’ve slept in a long time with you snuggled up against me,” I admit, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

There’s a light in her eyes now, mischief and delight magnified to match the morning’s raw promise. “Who knew you had such a romantic side, Bossy McGrumpster?” she teases, the words curled up in warmth beneath her dry wit.

“Bossy McGrumpster?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“You have to admit,” she grins back, “you’ve been pretty grumpy since I started working for you.”

Fuck. I had no idea I was that hard to deal with. Thankfully, my little firecracker didn’t give up on me before I had the chance to pull my head out of my ass. “I was too busy fighting my feelings for you to realize what a horrible boss I was being.” From now on, I’m going to do whatever it takes to make it up to her.

“Not horrible,” she corrects me. “Just a little difficult. Kinda like Minnie. Grumpy and irresistible. ”

The cat glances over with a look of displeasure at having me compared to her. Oh well, the furball will just have to get used to it.

We snuggle up together on the sofa with the cat nestled between us. Before I know it, we fall fast asleep despite the caffeine we’ve been drinking.

Waking up to the relentless sound of the wind battering the cabin like a drummer gone rogue, I’m acutely aware of the warmth and comfort of my curvy little firecracker curled up in my arms.

I ease off the sofa, carefully extricating myself from the cozy nest. I glance down and see her still wrapped in sleep, a small smile playing at her lips, while Minnie maintains her usual vigilant post nearby.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” I murmur, brushing a stray curl away from her eyes. She stirs slightly, eyes blinking open to meet mine with a welcoming, if slightly groggy, expression.

“No,” Scarlett replies, her voice thick with sleep yet tinged with humor. “Getting up might be illegal today. Better stay here where it’s warm.”

I chuckle, knowing how inviting the pull of the sofa is but also that breakfast doesn’t make itself. “True, but I’m thinking we need some sustenance before we take on this snow-locked day. I’m going to make us breakfast.”

She stretches, arms going wide, resembling nothing so much as a contented cat. “Do you need help with breakfast?” she offers, though her stance suggests she’s quite pleased to remain bundled up.

“I’ve got this,” I assure her, motioning toward the fireplace. “Why don’t you stay put and enjoy the fire.”

“If you insist.” With mock reluctance, Scarlett finally nods while Minnie gives me a look as if to say she’s judging my breakfast preparation skills already.

Heading into the kitchen, I take stock of what’s available. Luckily, I planned well for being trapped by a snowstorm or two, so there’s plenty to work with. I gather some eggs, bacon, and bread, determined to whip up a breakfast that will impress my firecracker.

The clamor of cooking soon fills the cabin, the sizzle of bacon a counterpoint to the wind's fury outside.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see Scarlett basking in the fire’s glow, her eyes closed as she soaks in the warmth, her whole demeanor at ease despite the wildness blowing outside. In that moment, I know everything is right in my world.

“Breakfast is ready,” I announce, balancing plates heaped with bacon and eggs.

“This looks fantastic,” she praises, taking her seat, her eyes flitting appreciatively over the plates between us.

I shake my head with a grin, pouring steaming cups of coffee to accompany the meal. “I hope it tastes good, too. Now, dig in before it gets cold.”