The fire had settled into low, steady orange coals.
Mark kissed the top of her shoulder. “Fire’s getting low. I should throw another log on.”
Linda covered his hand with hers, and pressed it to her breast. “In a minute, baby. Hold me just a little longer.”
“Yes, Mommy,” he murmured against her neck.
She smiled at that. She closed her eyes and her fingers traced lazy circles on his forearm.
Outside, the storm still hammered the windows. The wind howled through the trees.
“Looks like you might be stuck here tomorrow too,” she said softly, a teasing lilt in her voice.
Mark pulled her closer. “Wouldn’t that be a shame.”