Page 104 of The Snowflake Effect

She tugs me closer. “I didn’t hate The Terminator, by the way. I love the nickname.”

I chuckle. “We can watch the whole series in Van. And I have a shit-ton of other action films you’ll love to hate. And they have a cupcake store downtown you’ll go nuts over. Oh, fuck”—I press my face into her curls—“wait until you see the new pottery thing Jackson made. It makes the other pieces look professional. My kid will not be an artist.” I sigh. “I can’t believe you’re coming.”

She shrugs. “You had me pulled over by a cop, made me a playlist, and built me a snow globe. Of course I’m coming.”

I nip her bottom lip. “I love you,” I say.

Then I hit the button again.

CHAPTER 45

Three Months Later

SHAY

I give Jackson’s ski helmet a tug, making sure it’s on tight. “How does that feel?’

He nods and shakes his head like a bobblehead doll. “Not moving!”

“Make sure it’s extra snug,” Kolton says from behind me. “Some women on these hills have no clue how to ski and ram into people out of nowhere.”

I shoot him a look over my shoulder. “Hilarious.”

He smirks. “Just speaking from experience.”

We’re at Whistler this weekend, not Aspen, but maybe I should ski into him. Knock that cocky smirk off his face. First, we need to get Jackson to his morning lesson.

Kolton maneuvers around me and goes through Jackson’s checklist: money and phone for emergencies, ski pass, the bright orange mitts he just had to have. “If you get separated from your group”—Kolton taps the pocket housing Jackson’s phone—“you press the buttons we practiced.”

“I know, Daddy. Can I go to the group now? Ally’s already there.”

“Sure, bud.”

Kolton gives him a little shove, and Jackson skates on his skies over to the class meeting spot. We’ve driven up every weekend this winter, hoping Jackson would enjoy lessons, improve his technique. Meet kids he clicked with. When Ally waves at him and accidentally knocks her fist into her goggles, pushing them off-angle, I smile.

Seeing Jackson making new friends and having fun warms my heart in ways I never expected.

Kolton smolders at me. “Guess this means we get the morning to ourselves.”

I grab my poles and push off toward the lift, calling back to him, “If you can catch me!”

He laughs and meets me in the line. Normally, chairlift lines at Whistler are painfully long, but the conditions haven’t been stellar yet this season. There’s no powder to have people racing to the hill first thing in the morning.

We get a chair to ourselves and sit right next to each other.

I nod to the poles tucked under his leg. “Remember when you fumbled your poles and dropped one off the lift?”

“You mean the time you grabbed the pole and let it fall?”

“Never happened,” I say. “But that was a hot ride.”

“Almost as hot as last night.”

Hot doesn’t begin to describe last night’s marathon between the sheets. I didn’t know I could come that many times and still move my limbs.

Kolton slings an arm around me, tugging me closer into his side. “By the way, Stella finalized our employee appreciation night. We’re going bowling.”

I groan dramatically. “Bowling and I do not get along. Every ball I throw ends up in the gutter.”