COMPLETE ✓| Charlotte Hastings found herself between a rock and a hard place when she aged out of the foster system. With only a car to her name, she set out on the open road, hoping to find long lost relatives. Winter hits her hard. When she meets...
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | DREAM BY THE FIRE
Elijah Blackwood
I spent the remainder of the evening staring at Lottie's face when I thought she wasn't looking and putting out more and more candles as the electricity refused to come back on. We talked about everything from tending fires, to our jobs, to my family. I noticed the clock above the fireplace read 10:30 when I finally decided to release Lottie from my arms.
"I should probably clean up the kitchen a bit," I explained when she looked up at me. Though I wasn't sure how much cleaning there was to do, I was desperately trying to occupy myself to assuage the nagging guilt that twisted my stomach into knots.
She'd be snowed in right now, anyway, I reasoned. But I knew it wasn't the whole truth. I owed her the whole truth. But every moment I spent with her little body resting on the side of my chest, the attachment to her grew stronger.
"You think the power will come back on tonight?" she asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.
"I don't know." I walked over to the window and picked up a candle so I could see out. "Looks like these windows are covered in snow. I can't tell if it's still snowing because the basement is buried under a snowbank."
Lottie's laugh rang through the house clear as a bell. I reached over to where she stood and pulled her in towards me, kissing her longer than I intended. When she pulled away from me, I looked down at my feet. "I'm sorry," I said without looking at her. "I didn't mean to shock you like that. I just..."
"Eli," she giggled. "Please don't apologize." And then she stood on her tiptoes and pulled my head down to meet hers, giving me a quick peck on the lips.
"Okay," I said, breathing in the smell of her as she hugged me. "I won't apologize."
"You have to stop doing that," she said, taking a step backwards and putting her hands on her hips, "or we'll never get anything done. I thought we had a kitchen to clean."
"Right," I said, following her into the kitchen where she was holding a butter knife and a plate.
"I don't think this will take too long. I don't even think we need two people to do this."
"Okay, give it to me," I said, reaching for the dishes. "Why don't you go get changed for bed?"
She froze to look at me, her eyes calculating as she looked me over. It seemed as though she was trying to decide how much a chance she had in a fight. "Okay, then." She handed me the knife and put the plate in the sink. "I will go, but I don't think I'm going to be warm enough, so you might have to help me find some layers."
