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My cheeks hurt from how hard I’m smiling. I pull her into my lap and bury my face in her hair. Even on top of me, she’s still too far away.
“We’ll come back, sweetheart. I promise.”
She tucks her chin into my chest and speaks right to my heart when she says, “I’d like that a lot.”
A cold and bitter wind rips through the air, but I don’t care. I’m in no rush to go inside. I could stay out here with her forever, nothing but the trees around us and the woman of dreams in my arms.
FORTY-ONE
LACEY
“How aggressive is the snowball fight?”I ask Shawn on Christmas morning. I jump into my ski pants, the only clothing I brought that will keep me warm while we roll around in the freshly fallen snow. Flakes started to come down when we climbed off the roof last night, and it was the perfect ending to a perfect day. “Like,Fight Clublevel? Or something you’d let Maven participate in?”
“Fuck, no. There’s a reason none of my nieces are allowed to join,” he says, and he grabs his beanie from his suitcase. “Last year, someone needed three stitches on their forehead because they ran into a tree.”
“For heaven’s sake.” I zip up my jacket and sigh. “If something happens to me, tell my parents I love them. Tell Maggie, too. She can have all my books.”
“Normally I’d offer to keep you safe, but not today. Today you’re on your own, sweetheart.” Shawn rubs a smudge of black paint under each of his eyes. “And I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Wow. I’m finally seeing that athlete mentality from you.” I grin and wiggle my fingers into my gloves. “Is there a trophy?”
“Of course there’s a trophy. What kind of athletic event would it be if there wasn’t a trophy?”
“I don’t know. Still a made up one, probably. And one that doesn’t land someone in the hospital.” I put my hands on my hips and level him with a look. “I’m very competitive, Shawn. There’s a reason Maggie and I can’t be partners when we play charades; I yell at her too much. Just know that whatever I say out there doesn’t represent how I really feel about you.”
“You’re cute when you think you’re being a badass.” Shawn taps my nose, and I narrow my eyes. “Let’s see if you can back it up out there, Daniels. I’m not sure you can.”
“Oh, I’ll back it up. I’ll make you wish I was on your team, Holmes, because I’m going to mop the floor with you,” I say, and I press my finger into the center of his chest. “You better watch over your shoulder.”
He grabs my hand and presses a kiss to the middle of my palm. “I really wish the guys in the league shit talked like you do. Would’ve kept my temper in check when I was playing.”
“I can’t imagine you getting into any fights. You’re always calm on the sidelines.”
“It was different when I was a player. I had all this pressure on me to perform to a certain standard. There were milestones I was expected to hit. Once I passed one, I was given another, then another and another. It was fucking exhausting. I was never mean, but I had a short fuse when it came to certain things. When people questioned if I worked hard. When people said something and I interpreted it as a personal attack when really, they were just talking shit to rile anyone up. The older I got, the more I cooled off. The more I understand that if I lost a game, it wasn’t the end of the world.” Shawn shrugs. “There was always going to be another chance to play. Just don’t say anything about my mom, and I won’t have to totally knock you over.”
I laugh and clutch my heart. “I wouldnevertalk poorly about Kelly. She’s a ray of sunshine, and she raised a fantastic man. Even if his taste in backyard games is questionable and borderline violent.”
“She likes you, too. She told me she hasn’t seen me this happy in years.” He pauses, and his eyes meet mine. I see shyness behind the gray, like he’s not a man who whispered filthy things in my ear last night. “I told her she was right.”
“She said the same thing to me.” I reach up and touch his cheek. Run my fingers down the sharp lines of his jaw and commit every one of his beautiful angles to memory. “Moms know best, don’t they?”
“Yeah.” He brushes his lips against mine, and I lean into the kiss. “They certainly do.”
I wonder if I can convince him to stay up here all morning.
It’s our last day before we head home, and I’m afraid I’m going to spend it concussed when there is still so much I want to do with him.
I could drag him back to bed and strip off his clothes. I could get him to lead another singalong of “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” laughing as he acts out each gift with theatrical flair for his delighted nieces. I could sit with him by the fire, stuffing toys and candy into stockings and justbeing.
“Shawn,” Amanda bellows up the stairs. “Quit hiding and get your ass down here. It’s time to go.”
“Looks like we’ve been summoned.” He pulls on my hair and tilts back my head so he can kiss me again. “Good luck out there, Daniels. Don’t get hurt. I’d miss you too much if something happened to you.”
“Watch yourself, Holmes. Don’t think I won’t do everything in my power to throw you off your game.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve been to the Super Bowl six times. I’ve won five of those times. I don’t get distracted.”
I stand up on my tiptoes and nip his ear with my teeth. “Famous last words,” I whisper, and I run my hand down his chest. My fingers trail down the front of his jeans, and his hips jerk forward under my touch. “I’m going to make this very, very difficult for you.”
