Page 37 of Abdominal Snowman

Well. That answered her question. It seemed his human form didn’t get cold.

“What?” she heard herself ask seconds before her brain processed what he’d said.

She blinked, tearing her gaze away from his chest and lifting her head to meet his eyes. A knowing smile tickled his lips, but she had to give him credit for fighting it.

“You were getting on my nerves,” she blurted, and shook her head as soon as the words left her mouth. She lifted a hand as if to wave the words away on the air, but instead just flopped around the outrageously long sleeve on the damned jacket. “What the ever-loving—whose fucking arms are this long? And you don’t even have a decent toboggan for me!” she growled, yanking the jacket sleeves up her arm as her cheeks flamed. “That’s not what I meant,” she said finally, letting her arms fall to her sides and tilting her head back to the sky as if to ask for patience.

When she lowered her head, Soren wasn’t bothering to hide his grin.

“What I meant was the sound was getting on my nerves because I didn’t know what it was,” she finally told him. “I didn’t know it was you chopping wood.” Shirtless, she added silently. Why hadn’t she come to check sooner? Peeked out the window and enjoyed the show from the warmth inside?

“Does knowing what the sound is make it less annoying?” he inquired with his head tilted to the side.

Abominable snowman? More like adorable snow puppy.

No, dammit. Quit thinking like that.

“It does, actually. Now I can ignore it and finish what I was doing,” she announced proudly.

“Okay,” Soren said.

“Okay,” Sage echoed.

His smile curled his coral-colored lips even more. “I’ll be done soon. Any requests for dinner?”

Sage shook her head. “No, surprise me.”

“Thought I already had?” he countered.

A chuckle spilled out of her before she could stop it. “You know what I mean,” she replied, flapping the sleeve at him again.

He laughed, and Sage decided she liked the sound. She liked that she was the one making him make it. If that made sense.

Sage backed away, afraid to get herself in more trouble than she already had. “Okay, I’ll be inside.”

“Hey, Sage,” he called after her. She turned to face him. “What the hell do you need a sled for?”

Cocking her head to the side, Sage stared at him like he’d lost it. “What are you talking about?”

The snowman must have hit his head.

“A toboggan. A sled. Why do you need one?”

Sage stared dumbly at him. “A toboggan is a hat,” she corrected. “A knit one. Like a beanie.”

Soren narrowed his eyes. “Now what the hell are you talking about? It’s a sled.”

“It’s a hat,” she argued. “My parents even called it that when I was little! I’ve never heard it referred to as a sled.”

“Well, Florida is wrong. It’s a sled. Final decree,” he stated, no nonsense.

Sage huffed and turned around. “It’s a hat! I will die on this hill!”

His chuckle echoed around the snow piles and followed her back to the porch.

Quick to escape the deadly chill, she slid inside and shut the door in a hurry.

And then she laughed.

Sage finally found a nickname for the snowbeast. It made her chuckle all the way to the couch.

He was an abdominal snowman.