Page 23 of Big Dill

A loud laugh bubbles out of my throat, and before I can think, he flicks a handful of snow at me. I yelp and jump back, but my damn boots betray me. I skid on a hidden patch of ice and down I go, straight into a soft snow pile.

I brace for a joke, a teasing remark… but no. He’s right there, kneeling beside me. His gaze races over me for a second, then he gently pulls me toward him, holding me close. The cold snow melts against the warmth of his coat, and my heart skips in that way it always does around him.

“Jami, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” His voice is low, steady, but filled with regret.

I gulp, sure I’m never going to be okay again, but I try for humor. “If I said no, would you feel guilty and feed me pie?”

His shoulders relax. “Yes, I’d feed you pie, and anything else you’d like.”

“If I said yes?”

His eyes darken slightly, his eyes now on my mouth. “I’d still feed you pie, Jami.”

I gulp. “And…anything else I wanted?”

“Of course. What do you want?”

He leans in, his lips a hairbreadth away from mine, as his thumb lightly brushes my cheek. Then—jingle-jingle—the bell above a door chimes, shattering the moment. I exhale, shaking my head with a laugh that sounds shaky, even to my own ears. “Should we…go find whoever threw that snowball?”

He pulls back, and suddenly the warmth between us is replaced with the crisp bite of winter air. “Don’t need to.” His head lifts higher, and he moves quickly, putting distance between us. “He’s coming this way.”

6

Brody

“I’m sorry.”

Jaxon is slightly breathless from running, his words puffing white in the cold as his eyes rake over Jami, checking for damage before he pulls her into his arms. Only when he’s satisfied she’s still in one piece does his attention swing back to me.

“I didn’t mean to throw you off balance,” he says, one firm hand closing around my arm, the squeeze apologetic but solid, reminding me he’s a great guy, a great friend.

“Almost seems like you meant it,” I joke and I brush at my coat, flicking away snow that isn’t really there. My pulse is still knocking against my ribs, more from nearly kissing Jami again, with her brother in the near vicinity.

Jaxon winces. “I didn’t mean for it to send you flying like that. I was just trying to get your attention.”

“There’s this thing called yelling.”

“A text even,” Jami adds playfully.

“Hey, even a smoke signal would work.”

“Carrier pigeon,” Jami supplies.

“Signal flare, even.”

As Jami and I exchange playful banter, Jaxon shakes his head. “Are you two done?”

“I don’t know, are we?” I ask her.

“I could probably think of a few more.”

“My best friend and my sister ganging up on me. What have I gotten myself into?”

He grins and gives me a playful shove. Yup, I get it, we’re playing, teasing, the way brothers and sisters do, and that’s exactly how he expects me to treat her.

Like a sister.

Before he can read anything more into our antics, “You ever think about trying out for the MLB? That’s quite an arm you got there.” But I already know his strength. He’s my pickleball partner.