Free Baby It's Cold by Madison Faye

“No mittens?” Jon was looking at my hand as I rubbed them together in the heat of his living room. ”Here, let me hold your hands, they're freezing"

    He was holding me tight then, close to him. My pulse raced in my throat, suddenly realizing the strength in those hands, how much bigger and older than I he was. He brought my hands to his chest, his eyes meeting my wide ones unflinchingly as he stared down at me.  

    “Here, sit. I’ll grab that cocoa.” I swallowed, not trusting myself to say a word as he led me to the couch before moving off towards the kitchen.

    Jon passed me a mug when he came back, and I sipped it gingerly as he sat next to me on the sofa. Wow , he sure hadn’t skimped on the booze!

    He laughed, as if reading the look on my face. “Best cure for cold weather; sorry if its too strong, kid.”

    “No, no it’s fine.” I bit my lip as I looked at him, leaning back into the couch looking so cool and so easy. “It’s perfect.”

    “Good, cheers.”

    We clinked glasses before we moved to silence, sitting there in his house drinking the spiked cocoa. The heat of the room, silent but for the fireplace and our breathing, weighed down on me like a blanket, and suddenly, everything hit me all over again. What was I doing here? I shook my head, feeling the heat of the alcohol coursing through me; I really needed to get back home.

    “You know, since we found the scarf and all, maybe I should go.”

    Jon raise a brow at me; “Stay.”  

    "My mother will worry."

    I don't know why I said it. I suppose it was half-true, though maybe I'd meant it as s threat, or leverage. Whatever the intention though, it came out pathetic more than anything else.  

    "What's the hurry, beautiful?" He winked at me, the gesture charming in a way that had me feeling warm all over.  

    "My...my fath-"

    "Listen to that fire crackle, Chelsea"

    He dropped his hand over my shoulders then, and I felt my pulse skip a beat as he pulled me close to him. I could smell the lingering alcohol on his breath, mixing intoxicatingly with the aftershave and woodsmoke and pine captivating and vying for my senses.  

    "I..."

    "Shhh, there's no hurry." That damned smile was back, shattering my defenses and making me weak. I could feel my will crumbling, his smile breaking down my defenses and wrapping me in that warmth again.  

    “How’s that drink, kid?”

    I glanced down and blushed, realizing my mug was totally empty. “Evaporated, I swear.”

    Jon laughed loudly, his muscled body rumbling against mine and making me dizzy. “Freshen that up for you?”

    “Oh, I- I don’t know.” I took a deep breath. “Maybe, maybe just one more."

Chapter 1:

    “Oh, honey, before you start that, would you mind doing me a favor?”

    I groaned as looked up from the holiday movie I was about to start and frowned at my mother. “ Now ?” Okay, I’d seen the old classic paused on the t.v. basically every Christmas, sometimes twice, for years. But still , I was cozy on the couch, and for the first time in months, I was home , and not at college thinking about finals or grades or studying or any of that freshman year stuff.

    My mother gave me a look. “Yes, now , if you don’t mine. Oh don’t give me that look, Rachel, I’m not asking the world here.”

    I sighed, dramatically.

    “Look, I just want to see if you could possibly run up the street real quick and drop a tin of those cookies I made off at Jon Mason’s house.

    I felt my whole face grow red, and my body flush with heat at his name. Jon, the perpetual bachelor; the handsome - okay, no, sexy - guy who lived up the street,

    I'd crushed on him since I was a little girl; the older, handsome family friend. He worked with my dad, always dressed smartly, always had presents, always in a nice car. As I'd grown, I'd fantasized about him enough to make me blush thinking about it.  

    Heck, he was all I fantasized about, truth be told.

    I’d used to watch him from my