Pick her up

Without a word, you tighten you grip her waist again and easily hoist her off the floor, swinging her half a turn toward the drying station. Setting her down gently onto the stainless steel counter beside the commercial sink, you joke, “You can rub your dirty butt all you want on this one.”

Lily lets out a sharp, genuine laugh that echoes off the tile. As her feet settle against the lower shelf, she reaches out and gives your shoulder a playful, ringing slap.

“You are awful, Mark ” she teases, leaning back on her hands while her legs swing casually over the edge. The loose, unbuttoned pink-and-white striped silk shirt swishes open over her stomach, spilling warm light across her bare skin as she gives her hips a slow, playful wiggle against the steel. “Do I need to prove to you that my butt isn’t dirty, Mark”

She breaks into a throaty chuckle and reaches out, giving your shoulder a playful, ringing slap.

“At least not that kind of dirty?” Lily repeats with a breathless laugh, her dark eyes sparkling in the warm light.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you reply, chuckling as you turn toward the cutting board. “Though you’re still not helping your case by wiggling around on the place we put dirty dishes.”

“Hey, I’m just keeping the blood flowing while you work!” she teases, swinging her legs over the steel edge. Her loose pink-and-white striped silk top swishes open across her stomach as she leans back on her palms, entirely unbothered as she watches your hands work. “Besides, a good host doesn’t keep his guest waiting on lunch.”

“Fair enough,” you say, slicing thick slabs of sourdough bread and layering smoked ham, sharp cheddar, and grain mustard onto two heavy plates.

You set the knife down, wipe your hands on a towel, and step back up to the drying station. Before Lily can reach for her plate, you bend slightly, hook your arms under her thighs, and scoop her up over your shoulder in one smooth, fluid motion.

“Hey!” Lily gasps, letting out a delighted, ringing laugh as the kitchen upside-down view rushes past her. “Mark! What are you doing?”

“Transporting the guest,” you say, grabbing the two plates in one hand and her glass of wine in the other.

She swats your back playfully with her hand, her small silk shorts tight against her hips while her loose top drapes down over your shoulder. “You are ridiculous! I have legs, you know!”

“They’re off the ground now, so they don’t count,” you reply, striding through the swinging kitchen door and out into the main lodge lounge.

As you step into the firelit room, you stop.

Jean is standing near the bottom of the timber staircase, his tall, lean frame wrapped in his damp charcoal coat, a fresh sketchpad tucked under his arm. He pauses, looking over at the two of you, Lily draped upside down over your shoulder, laughing, with her pink silk pajamas hanging loose and your hands holding lunch.

Lily looks up from over your back, her face flushed with laughter as she blinks at him. “Oh! Jean, you’re down!”

Jean doesn’t look angry or surprised. His dark eyes wander casually over the scene, taking in the easy, unscripted proximity between you two with a quiet, analytical stillness. A faint, dry smile touches his lips.

“The light changed upstairs,” Jean says simply, his voice low and smooth over the roar of the rain outside. “I came down for a drink.”

You smoothly lower Lily off your shoulder, her bare feet meeting the rug as she catches her balance, her open top shifting softly over her chest. You hand one of the heavy plates straight to Jean.

“Fresh sourdough, ham, and cheese,” you say, keeping your voice calm and even. “I was just bringing Lily hers by the fire.”

Jean accepts the plate, glancing at the food, then raising his eyes to look between you and Lily. “Thank you, Mark. Perfectly timed.”

“I’ll leave you two to enjoy it,” you say, taking a step back toward the front desk to give them space. “I’ve got some paperwork to finish up, but let me know if you need anything else.”

Lily looks over at you, her dark eyes holding yours with a warm, lingering look as she takes her own plate. “Thanks for lunch, Mark,” she says softly.

Jean nods in agreement, taking a seat near the hearth while you head back into the room behind the front desk, leaving the two of them together in the firelight.