“I thought we brought in all the bags.” Penny wraps her arms around her middle to shield herself from the cold.
“We did. It looked like you could use a break,” I shrug off my jacket and hold it out to her. She eyes me then reluctantly slides her arms into the sleeves and lifts the collar until it brushes against her cheeks.
“Are you sure you’re not the one who needed the break?” she asks.
I shrug, “It’s different from my family, but not a bad different.”
“What was your Christmas like growing up in the city?”
“Nothing like this. We’d get a fake tree and spend Christmas Eve decorating cookies. By the time I was a teenager, the whole holiday had lost its magic. Maybe it would have lasted longer if we had snow.” I toe the ground with my boot.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. I fish it out and there’s a text from Elsie with a photo of Mango resting on a throw blanket with her two cats, Bagel and Cream Cheese, with the caption, “In his element.”
“Who is it?” Penny asks, taking a step closer.
“I got a Mango update.” I say, showing her the photo. “He’s already enjoying his vacation.”
Elsie offered to take him for the weekend as soon as I mentioned it, since her partner is a vet tech. It’s not the first time they’ve watched him, usually on much shorter notice than this. It’s a comfort knowing he’s being looked after and is somewhere where he feels safe.
Penny smiles up at me, “He looks so cute.”
The scent of her wildflower perfume hits me, the same scent has clung to my pillow for a little under a week. A reminder of the weekend together, the way she felt under me, the way she tasted and the way those fleeting moments made my townhouse feel alive again.
Her eyes flit to my lips, and she shivers, a stray snowflake clinging to her eyelashes. Within seconds they’re swirling around us, caught in the ghost of a winter breeze which almost burns my cheeks.
“You’re freezing.” I mutter under my breath, rubbing her shoulders through the jacket, “C’mon, we should get back inside.”
I’m not halfway up the path when a shock of cold hits me between the shoulder blades with a thud.
As I turn, Penny is already molding another snowball in her hand, eyes wild with the mischief mirrored in her playful smile.
“Did you just throw a snowball at me?” I ask, unable to hide the amusement in my voice.
She shrugs, “I’m sharing a little of my Christmas magic.”
Before I can react, she lobs another one at me, hitting me square in the shoulder. “When you said you played softball, I didn’t realize you meant pro.” I double over and grab a handful of snow, but I’m immediately hit with another.
“Both middle school and high school. Gave it up senior year.” She smiles and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, readying another snowball.
I fling the half-formed clump of snow at her, and she laughs, then jumps out of the way with a squeal. She bounds across the yard, tossing her last snowball at me.
The sight mixed with her excitement stirs something primal inside of me, the scent of wildflowers still fresh on my senses. I grab a handful of snow and take off after her, gaining quickly.My arm slides around her waist, pulling her flat to my chest until her feet are kicking in the air, the sound of her laughter infectious.
“Put me down,” she squirms and arches into my embrace, her hands clinging to my forearms like a vice.
I toss the snowball aside and drop to my knees, wrestling her wiggling form to the ground.
Penny rolls onto her back, smiling as the fresh snowflakes cling everywhere—her hair, her cheeks, her eyelashes. She stares up at me, the smile slowly fading as she catches her breath; a familiar look of peace taking its place.
Her eyes flutter closed as I brush her hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear. She is gorgeous. She resembles a winter goddess resting in the snow with the subtle rise and fall of her chest.
I fight against my instinct to kiss her, knowing it could easily turn into more. This was a line we agreed wouldn’t cross, not unless there’s an audience, but I want to.
I want nothing more than to tell her exactly what these few weeks have meant to me. I want to take her lack of an exit strategy as a signal she doesn’t want this to end either.
“Thank you,” I mutter.
Penny opens her eyes, the green brighter against the backdrop of the snow. “What for?”
