"How are you doing?” I asked Kari as she rubbed her hands together by the fire. Her hair was a little damp from the snow, curling around her chin adorably, and I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and hold her close and make sure she never felt cold again. But I figured it was better to let her come to me. She had to be the one in control here, and I was fine with that.

"Pretty good," she replied, glancing over at me. Her nose was tinged a little red.

"You have anything else to do today?” I asked. I was hoping that she was going to say no and that I could coax her back into the hot tub once more, but her eyes lit up as though something had just occurred to her.

"Actually, yeah, I do!” she exclaimed, getting to her feet. She bounced past me and toward the bedroom, and then returned a moment later with a giant bag of stuff.

"I had to bring these from work," she explained, dumping them down on the floor in front of the fireplace. Out of the bag slithered a huge pile of clothes, as well as a half-dozen little wooden toys, all of which looked a little battered, as though they had been well-loved before they’d made it to her.

"I have to fix these up," she went on, sitting herself down among the mess she had made.

"Fix them up?” I asked.

"These were donated to the charity a few months ago," she explained. "I want to get them into workable condition for when the Christmas season comes, so I can give them out to the kids."

"So what are you going to do?”

"I’m going to stich up the worst of the holes in the clothes," she explained. "And I could use some help sanding down some of the toys, if you want to give me a hand."

"What did you need me to do?” I asked, crouching down to join her at once. Her eyes were sparkling as she looked down at everything in front of her, as though she could hardly wait to get started. Her passion was so contagious – and that wasn’t something I could say about many people. Most of the time, I found intense passion a little too much to handle, but it seemed as though when it came from her, it just rubbed off on me.

"Well, I brought some sandpaper with me, and there’s some varnish in there as well," she explained. "If you want to take on the toys, we’ll be done in half the time.”

"Just let me call my cleaner and let them know what we’re doing," I replied, getting to my feet. "I’ll be back soon."

I headed to the bedroom to grab my phone – I hadn’t looked at it much this morning, which was new for me. Normally, I would find myself stuck to the damn thing, but I hadn’t really thought about it all day. Dialing the number for my cleaner, I tapped my foot on the ground as I waited for them to pick up.

"Hello?”

"Hello, Morgan here," I greeted the woman on the other end of the line. "I’m staying at the lodge in Colorado."

"Oh, hello," she replied smoothly, slipping into professional mode at once.

"I need to do some woodwork at the lodge," I explained quickly. "Varnishing, sanding, that kind of thing."

"Alright," she replied, but she didn’t sound too happy about what I was suggesting.

"So I need to know that you guys will be able to come and clean up when I’m done," I continued. She fell quiet for a long moment.

"Sir, I’m really not sure—"

"Whatever kind of cash it takes," I replied. "I’ll pay three times the hourly rate. Tell your boss that whatever they want, I’ll pay it, and then add a bonus for everyone who comes out to clean, alright?”

"Well, I—"

"It’s for a charity project," I told her. "It would be good press, you know."

"I guess we could manage that—"

"Good to know we’re on the same page," I cut her off and hung up before she could protest any further. I was going to do this. And sure, I could claim to myself that it was because I knew this was going to be good for my reputation, helping out with a charity like this, but I wanted to impress Kari. I wanted to show her that I’m far from the person she seemed to think I was.

I made it back to the spot in front of the fire, where she had begun to sort through everything, laying out all of the clothes that she was going to fix up.

"Shall we take this up to the table?” I suggested, and she glanced up and smiled at me.

"You want to help?”

"Sure do," I agreed. "Not going to let my guest take all of this on by herself, am I?”

"What a good host," she teased. She gathered up the stuff in the bag and handed it to me.

"Varnish and paint and sandpaper are in there," she explained, and she leaned down to grab the rest of the toys.

"Let’s get started," I agreed as I helped her over to the table with the armfuls of clothes.

She settled into the seat opposite me and pulled out a pair of jeans, frowning as she twisted them back and forth and checked for damage. I took the first set of toys – a handful of blocks with chipped letters painted on them – and smiled at her.

"You do this a lot?” I asked. She nodded, reaching for the needles and thread that she had tucked into the bag.

"Yeah," she agreed. "We get big donations every few months, and I usually end up being the one who fixes them up."

"Hey, look," I remarked, noticing something that was sticking up out of the bag. I plucked it out, revealing a small Santa hat. She laughed.

"Well, that one doesn’t look as though it needs much work done on it," she giggled. I reached over and planted it on her head.

"There," I announced, happy with my work. She adjusted the hat so that it wasn’t sliding off the back of her head and struck a pose.

"What do you think?”

"Looks good to me," I nodded.

"Does this make me an elf?” she commented, fiddling with the pom-pom where it was sticking up away from the hat.

"Well, we’re sitting here doing up toys and clothes for Christmas," I pointed out. "I think that makes this Santa’s workshop, right?”

"If we find another hat in here, you have to wear it," she warned me playfully.

"Anything you want," I replied. I picked up the sandpaper and started work on the blocks in front of me, beginning by scrubbing off the last of the old paint. They looked well-loved, but I could get them looking perfect again. In fact, it made me a little warm inside to think of some kid opening these up on Christmas day. I had so much cash now that there wasn’t anything in the world that I couldn’t already get for myself, but that hadn’t always been the case. I could remember how precious these gifts could be for a kid.

"So, when are you going to give these to the kids?” I asked. She just shook her head and shrugged.

"I honestly have no idea," she admitted. "I’ll be so busy over the next few weeks – between sorting out my kids and the stuff for the charity, it’s just a lot to take on."

"I can imagine," I furrowed my brow. "Do you guys do a family Christmas? All together?”

"Yeah, I try to," she nodded. She opened her mouth as though she was going to add something else, but then closed it again without saying anything. I wondered if she’d been about to tell me about her ex, but then had thought better of it. I wanted to press her, to let her know that I knew all about her ex and the fact that he had dumped her for some younger woman, but I knew it was best if she came to me with that information.

"Missing your kids?” I asked, deciding to shift the subject. She nodded and smiled.

"Yeah, I really do," she sighed. "You know, I think this has been the longest I’ve been apart from them in...well, since they were born, actually."

"You’ve never taken a little weekend break?” I asked. She shook her head.

"I’ve never had the time or the money," she replied. "Between running the charity and raising them, I just didn’t ever think to take some time away from them. I didn’t want to, anyway. I saw so many kids without their parents, for one reason or another, in my line of work, and I didn’t...I guess it just underlined how much I wanted to be around them. How much I wanted to be there for them."

"Well, I’m flattered that you would come out here to be with me," I replied, reaching across to touch her hand. I swear, it was like a shock of electricity passed between us. I pulled back and started work on the blocks again as she began stitching up some of the holes in the jeans she was holding.

"Honestly, I think I needed the break," she sighed. "I know that I work too hard sometimes. I just don’t know how to switch off. Or I never got the chance, I guess."

"Yeah, I feel that," I agreed. "It’s hard to step away when working your ass off is all you’ve ever known, right?”

"I’m not even really stopping work now, I guess," she admitted, nodding down to the clothes in the bag. "I guess there just aren’t enough hours in the day to really take a break for any meaningful length of time."

"At least you have your friend to look after your kids," I pointed out.

"Yeah, thank Christ for Clara," she agreed, shaking her head and smiling fondly. "I don’t know what I’d do without her. I swear, she keeps me sane most of the time. She actually took me away for a trip a few months ago, just a night out – it was so much fun."

I held my breath for a moment. Was she going to put the pieces together and figure out that the trip had been when she’d first met me? I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up or not. I assumed not, given that she hardly seemed to recall it.

"What about you?” she asked, mercifully shifting the subject. "Do you get much time away from work?”

"Honestly, not as much as I know I should take," I admitted. "I just feel like if I take too much time off, people are going to forget me."

"I think people would have a hard time forgetting you," she remarked, a hint of flirtation in her voice.

"You didn’t even know who I was," I reminded her playfully. She laughed.

"Alright, but people who actually have lives outside their work and their kids would probably never forget you," she corrected herself. "You can’t judge the rest of the world by me."

"If the rest of the world was a little more like you, then maybe things would run a little smoother around here," I remarked.

"You’re sweet," she replied, and I noticed a little flush on her cheeks, the same one that had appeared when we were out in the cold together. She focused on stitching the holes in the jeans, and I grabbed the paint to start re-painting the “L” on the cube in front of me.

"You don’t have any kids, do you?” she asked suddenly. I raised my head to look at her.

"No. Hell no," I replied, shaking my head. "Never really wanted them, either."

"Oh," she replied, her face falling a little. I realized how stupid that had been.

"But maybe it’s getting to that time in my life," I corrected myself. "You know, a lot of people around me are starting to settle down and have kids. Maybe it’s my turn next."

"Maybe it is," she smiled back at me. Before I could say anything else, she got to her feet and headed to the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Give me a second," she called back, and she returned a moment later with her purse in her hand.

"I know you probably don’t want to see these," she admitted, shaking her head. "But just indulge me for a second, alright?"

"You’re an elf. I’m pretty sure I have to do what you ask," I replied, and she giggled, adjusting the hat on her head. Then she sank down into the seat next to me and pulled out a picture.

"This is me and my kids," she explained, showing me the photograph. I peered down at it – in it, two kids, a girl and a boy, were beaming up from either side of a woman I didn’t recognize. I peered a little closer at her. A nanny, maybe?

"I know it doesn't look anything like me," she admitted, and she sounded a little embarrassed. "That was a few years ago. And about two hundred pounds."

"You lost all of that weight?" I asked incredulously. The tone in my voice must have upset her because she quickly whipped the picture away before I could peer any closer. She didn’t meet my gaze as she continued.

"Yeah, I did," she confessed, putting the picture back in her purse. "After I...I had just been through a lot. I didn’t want to be carrying that weight around any longer. It felt like it belonged to someone else, you know? Like it wasn’t me. I’d put it on after I had the kids, and I’d just let it sit there because I was...I was trying to insulate myself from the world, I guess."

I didn’t reply for a moment. She was standing there, eyeing me. I was a little surprised; I couldn't imagine her as anything other than the gorgeous, svelte creature I saw before me.

"Does that change how you think of me?" she asked quietly, her head drooping down as she took her seat opposite me once more.

"Of course it doesn’t, Kari," I assured her fervently. She managed a disbelieving smile.

"It’s alright if it does," she muttered. "I know that it’s...I know that it was a lot. Trust me..."

"No, Kari, it doesn’t change anything," I cut her off before she could go any further down this line. I got to my feet and crouched down beside her.

"I don’t care what you used to look like," I murmured. "Really. I think you’re beautiful now, but you don’t have to...you never have to worry about this."

"You’re not worried that I’m going to put the weight back on?” she asked. I could tell that this was a real concern for her. I thought of her ex, of that ass who had dumped her for someone younger, and I hated him in that moment. I’d never met him, but that didn’t matter. He had hurt this woman so much, and she was so damn good. She didn’t deserve to feel this way about herself. And I would make sure that she never did again.

"No, I don’t," I replied with certainty. "You saw something you wanted to change about yourself, and you changed it. That’s what I like about you – you look at the world, and you see what needs changing, and you just...you just go out there and do it. You have no idea what an inspiration that is."

She looked at me for a long moment, scanning my face as though she was looking for an indicator that I was lying to her. As though she thought I might laugh in her face and take it all back. I took her hand and squeezed it, and she pulled her eyes away from me. They were glistening with tears.

"I’m sorry," she mumbled, dashing the tears away with the back of her hand. She half-laughed at herself, but I could tell that something had flicked inside her, like a switch had changed from one side to the other.

"I just...I really thought that if you saw that you might think of me differently," she confessed. "That you might not want me as much. Knowing what I used to be..."

"You’re still the same person as you were back then," I replied. "You just looked a little different, that’s all. Kari, I don’t care who you thought you used to be. I just care about the woman who’s sitting right here in front of me."

And with that, I leaned over and kissed her.

It was a snap decision – I just couldn’t bear to see her sad any longer, and it was the only thing I could think of to put a smile on her face. As soon as our lips touched, though, it turned into something else. She had truly believed that as soon as I saw the way she used to be, things would change between us – that I wouldn’t see her the same way. And when I kissed her, it seemed to wipe away all of those last vestiges of her fear. She kissed me back, her hand on my neck, pulling me in close as though she never wanted me to shift away from her again. But I wanted her, all of her.

I kissed her nose, her lips, her cheeks, her chin, her forehead, every part of her that I could get my hands on. She was giggling and trying to kiss me back, touching me all over. By the time I pulled back, her tears were gone, and she was smiling at me softly.

"I like to see you smile," I murmured, pressing my forehead against hers.

"Morgan, I…" she trailed off before she could finish what she was saying. I didn’t need to hear it, though. I knew what she was thinking.

"You’re getting paint all over us," she finally finished up, laughing and grabbing one of my hands, which was covered in blue and green paint from the block I’d been working on. She reached up and touched my face, skimming her fingers over the paint that must have gotten on it, and shook her head at me.

"You’re going to need to get cleaned up," she murmured.

"Only if you join me," I replied. She raised her eyebrows.

"And what exactly might that mean?” she asked, even though I was pretty sure she knew damn well what I was referring to.

"Let’s take a bath," whispered seductively, pressing a kiss to the spot just below her ear.

"Together."

She bit her lip, and her eyes were shining when I pulled back. But this time, it wasn’t with tears – no, it was with the thrill of what I was suggesting.

"You get it running," she replied, getting to her feet. I took her hand, and she wobbled slightly.

"Already a little light on your feet?” I teased.

"Guess that’s just the effect you have on me," she shot back playfully.

"Let’s get you cleaned up," I told her, kissing her on the nose. She smiled widely.

"What are you waiting for?" She waved me to the bathroom. "I need to get this paint off of me."

"And those clothes," I added, cocking an eyebrow. And with that, I headed to the bathroom to get a warm, steamy bath running for the two of us. Just like last night, the two of us would be sharing hot water, a small space, and as little clothes as possible. I couldn’t wait.