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“Nathan!” she cries in a bubbly laugh. “You ass, let me go.”
The name-calling asks for it. I flip us over so her back is cushioned in the cold, fluffy snow. I’d feel bad, but I know the iciness can’t penetrate her puffy coat.
“You like my ass.” I lean down and kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
“Like what?” Her breathless voice makes me want to tuck the sound inside and carry it with me.
I scan down her face and body, then back up to look in her eyes as I reply vulnerably, “Alive.”
Her arms loosely conform to my torso, hands skating up and down. Her alluring mouth tips into a sweet, closed grin. This moment is too perfect to pass up.
“Kiersten, I—” That’s all I get out before a handful of snow is violently shoved down the back of my pants. “Fuck!”
I propel myself off her as gently as I can manage with an icy ass and hop around in an attempt to shake it loose. Kiersten breaks out into a full-on belly laugh. Even a frostbit taint doesn’t stop me from joining her.
I approach her and lean over her prone form. The evidence of giggles etched into her features.
“That was so unnecessary,” I chastise and offer my gloved hands to help her up. Once she’s vertical, I innocently brush the snow off her back and lead us toward the snacks.
“Oh, but it was.” Her eyes twinkle as we exchange a glance.
The scent of fried food and popcorn makes my mouth water, and I’m highly aware the woman inside more than likely witnessed our entire exchange. The smile on her face seems to suggest it.
“Two hot chocolates, please. And a pretzel.”
The woman proceeds to fill our order.
“The overnight crew needs to eat, too. On top of cleaning, stocking, and prepping, someone makes hot drinks and a few items to keep the staff warm and fed.”
Kiersten rubs her belly and watches the woman work. “It took you like half an hour to finally answer one of my questions. Thanks for that.” Her sass is as natural as the rest of her.
I reach over and brush some of her bangs away from her eyes, returning her attention to me.
“Is it so bad that I want you to be surprised? That’d I’d rather talk to you about other things?”
Some of the attitude dissolves, and her expression softens. “I thought coming here was the surprise.”
“Part of it. There’s one more thing.”
Before she can ask yet another question I plan to ignore, the woman hands over our treats. I pay with my card and thank her. Taking my drink and our pretzel, I hide the secret disappointment that I can no longer hold her hand.
A particularly icy gust whips our cheeks. “Come on. Let’s keep walking.”
Kiersten holds her own drink and takes a careful sip as we resume our stroll. The lights become denser the farther we walk until brightness surrounds us.
“I can almost pretend it’s still daytime out here.” Kiersten rips off a piece of the soft pretzel and shoves it into her mouth. I swear only she can make something as mundane as eating cute as hell.
“That is, if it weren’t so cold. Give me like sixty degrees and string lights. Is that how they celebrate Christmas in warmer parts of the country? Do people hang lights from palm trees and cacti?”
I chuckle at her rapid questions. “Don’t know, babe. Lived here my entire life.”
“Yeah.” Her voice is a windy whisper. “Me too. I mean, not here.” She waves her hand around in front of us. “But West Virginia. I’d like to visit the ocean someday. Maybe ‘experience Christmas somewhere tropical’ should go on my bucket list.”
“Shouldn’t bucket lists have crazy things on it like backpack around Europe or skydiving?” When she gazes at the lights depicting the Golden Gate Bridge, I tear a piece of pretzel off with my teeth. My hands are too full to use my fingers. She glances at me, and I school the guilty expression off my face.
“Oh, that’s on there too. Though now I’m questioning how responsible it would be to fling myself out of an airplane at thirteen thousand feet when I have a child who depends on me.”
Merely the thought of some horrible accident feels like a gut punch. Also, she forgot to mention that I depend on her. Mother of my child or longtime best friend, the title doesn’t matter. The idea of not having her in my life is an unpleasant one I refuse to even consider.
