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The seven of us congregate at the top of the mountain, lining up for a final run before lunch. “Last one down buys the hot chocolate!” shouts Daphne right after she pushes off to get a head start. We pull our ski goggles down and take off after her, not one of us wanting to lose.
The boys end up beating Daphne and me to the bottom, willing to risk some speed so they don’t have to drop $70 on cocoa for a family of 14. Carter waits at the bottom, wearing a massive grin on his face as he watches me try to inch out my sister for the coveted second-to-last spot.
I tighten my turns and ride the edges of my snowboard, picking up speed and surpassing Daphne in the home stretch. I cackle loudly when she screeches, “Oh no, you didn’t!” and tries her best to catch up.
Unlike Daphne, I’ve never been afraid to break a nail to win and manage to leave her trailing several feet behind. When I get to the bottom, I spray the men with snow as I stop in front of them, raising my hands in victory. Daphne tries to do the same, except when she stops next to me, she loses her balance and knocks me over—right into Carter, who cradles me in his arms as we both fall to the ground laughing.
With our snowboards tangled, Carter deftly rolls us over so he can use his strength to lift himself off me. Only he doesn’t, at least not yet. Instead, he leans down and presses his mouth to mine, kissing me a few times and nibbling on my lower lip. “Hmm. More delicious than cocoa,” he says, his eyes twinkling with playfulness.
“There are children present,” my dad says with a stern and fatherly tone. Carter helps me up, and I notice that everyone else has joined us. My father has his arms crossed, but his expression is good-natured. There are a few eyebrow waggles and giggles sent in our direction.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“No, you’re not,” says Callie. “I wouldn’t be either if I had a sexy man kissing me.” When Callum is slow to respond, she turns to him, “That was a hint, Baby!” Callum doesn’t need any more prompting, taking Callie in his arms and laying one on her.
Daphne fans her face. “Whew! After those displays of affection, I need to cool off with some cocoa! Who’s with me?”
Brody shakes his head in confusion and exasperation at Daphne. “What is with you and choosing the wrong temperature drink for the occasion? You want something iced when you should want it hot, and hot when it should be iced.”
“It was my attempt at a segway to transition us from standing out here like a gaggle in the cold to us standing as a gaggle inside the lodge where it’s warm. I think my lips are turning blue,” she retorts.
Ansel puts his arm around Daphne. “Your lips are blue because you ate our snow. Tell me, what does defeat taste like?”
She pushes his arms off and begins stomping toward the lodge, prompting us to follow. Before she turns back around, she glares at Ansel. “Like everything else in the world, it tastes like chicken.”
Chapter twenty-three
Carter
TheArbaroafamilytakesup most of the lobby seating centered around the huge fireplace, laughing and having a great time. The only people missing from the group are Daphne, Leanna, and me since we’re the ones getting the drinks.
I stand off to the side in a small alcove with my arms around Leanna, holding her to me with her back pressed against my front. I set my chin on her shoulder, watching people come and go while we wait for Daphne to get through the line and order the hot chocolates.
As I kiss the crook of her neck, I feel her body go rigid and wonder if I’ve overstepped. “I’m sorry. Is this too much too soon?”
I feel the subtle shake of her head, and her mouth doesn’t move when she whispers, “Mark Jenkins, one o’clock.”
The man walks in with his boots still covered in snow, having neither the courtesy nor forethought to shake off the excess using the kickstands out front. The stands are there for that reason, but at least the man and woman following him utilize them. I recognize Amanda and Brayden from the profile pictures that Savannah sent to my phone earlier in the day.
I whisper in Leanna’s ear, “Try and look natural. Pretend as if you don’t see him.” I kiss the tender spot where her shoulder meets her neck, hoping it might help her relax. It does, but only because my whiskers tickle the spot when I move. She giggles, and her laughter resonates through the lobby. Several eyes turn in our direction, including the one set we had hoped to avoid.
Mark glares at us—more Leanna than me—and it feels like a silent battle of wills is going on. He doesn’t move in our direction but doesn’t leave either. It’s like watching two bighorn sheep ready to butt heads with the slightest provocation.
It’s not until Amanda touches her father’s arm that he seems to snap out of his staring showdown. She looks over at us and gives us a small smile of sympathy. Brayden, on the other hand, looks at us with confusion. His sister says something to him, and he nods but doesn’t look our way as he walks away. Amanda follows her brother and tugs at her father’s shirt, urging him to join them. Before he does, he takes his index and middle finger to point to his eyes, then flicks his wrist to put them toward Leanna. The gesture implies that he’s “watching” her, which is precisely what I’m afraid of.
Nick starts to rise and go have a man-to-man after seeing the subtle threat against his daughter, but Elena pulls him back down and lets Mark walk away. It’s the right call. Currently, the Jenkins family has no idea who they are.
Patrick and Savannah walk in next, arm in arm and laughing. Savannah pulls out her phone and smiles sweetly at Patrick before she sends a text message. She pockets the device when she’s finished, and they continue on their merry way in the same direction as Mark Jenkins and his two children.
Feeling my phone vibrate, I know it’s an update from Savannah and wait until they’re out of sight before glancing at it. This time, my body stiffens when I read the text.
Leanna turns in my arms and snakes her hands around my waist, looking up at me like Savannah had just done to Patrick. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses my jawline before softly asking, “What did the text say?”
I don’t get a chance to answer before the barista calls out Daphne’s name, and it’s time for us to help carry the drinks. When all the drinks have been passed out, Daphne quickly claims one of the two remaining spots available, leaving only a wingback chair that doesn’t have enough room for two.
“I’ll sit on the floor,” Leanna tells me, always the first to sacrifice her well-being for others. “Then you can tell us all what the text was about.”
“My woman will not be relegated to sitting on the floor when there is a perfectly good lap to sit on.” I didn’t realize what I had said until every head turns in my direction and stares at me wide-eyed, along with a few salacious grins.
