Chapter 19
Brooks
Kids had more energy than sense. That was the first thing I figured out standing in the middle of Annie’s yard with a snowball in each hand and Ruby grinning at me like she’d just declared war.
“Take cover!” she shrieked, ducking behind a pine tree.
I shook my head, muttering, “What the hell did I get myself into?” before lobbing one in her direction. Missed on purpose. Mostly.
She popped her head out and nailed me in the chest so fast I didn’t even blink. Snow scattered across my flannel. I looked down at the wet spot, then back up at her, slow as a bear waking up from hibernation.
Ruby gasped. “Oh no. I woke the giant.”
She reached up and adjusted her bright pink winter hat with a toothy grin.
“You sure did,” I drawled, scooping up two fresh handfuls of snow. “And the giant doesn’t play nice.”
She squealed and darted off, pom-pom hat bouncing, boots kicking up powdered snow.
The next few minutes were a blur of yelling and laughter and more snow down my collar than I’d ever put up with in my life. Ruby didn’t throw hard, but the kid was crafty. She’d roll, dive, pop up like some kind of pint-sized soldier. If she’d been my size, I’d have been in trouble.
By the time I caught up, she was crouched behind a sloppy little mound of snow, stockpiling ammo like she’d been planning this all week.
“Is this your fortress?” I said, hands on my hips.
She tilted her chin up, serious as a general. “Every general needs a base.”
I had to bite back a grin. “And your battle strategy?”
Her mouth curved into the kind of grin that meant trouble. “Sneak attack.”
Three snowballs came at me lightning fast—one to the arm, one whizzing past my ear, and the third exploding right across my hairline. Cold dripped down my forehead.
Ruby’s laughter split the quiet yard.
“That’s it,” I muttered. “No more Mr. Nice Nanny.”
Her eyes went wide, and she tried to move.
I lunged. She shrieked and bolted, but her legs were half the length of mine. I caught her around the middle easily, tossed her over my shoulder like a sack of feed. She kicked and giggled so hard I almost dropped her.
“Put me down!” she ordered between gasps of laughter.
“Nope. Prisoners of war don’t get released on demand.”
“I’m not a prisoner, I’m the general!”
“Generals don’t lose snowball fights.” I set her down behind her fort, crouching low. “And you just lost, kid.”
She pouted, arms crossed, cheeks flushed bright pink from the cold. “Maybe I lost this time, but next time, I’ll win.”
“Uh-huh. We’ll see.”
Ruby plopped down into the snow and I decided to sit, too. The snow still slowly fell, leaving flakes on her hat, and I imagined in my hair.
For a minute, we just sat there.
Then, she leaned against me without asking, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I wrapped my arm around her as we both seemed to be soaking up the comfort of the outdoors.
Snowberry Peak was beautiful. The view of the mountains is the perfect image for a postcard.
Her breath puffed little clouds in the cold air. Then she tilted her head back, all big eyes and messy curls under her hat.
“Brooks?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“Can you be my babysitter forever?”
My heart stuttered. Didn’t expect that one.
She kept talking, fast and earnest, like if she didn’t get it out all at once I might say no.
“Because you’re way more fun than my dad, don’t tell him I said that.
You don’t make me eat mac and cheese, and you don’t throw too hard, and you can carry me when I get tired, and—” She stopped, chewing her lip. “I just like that you’re here.”
I looked toward the house, half-hoping Annie would get home and we could have a distraction. No such luck. Just me and Ruby and her question hanging heavy in the cold air.
“Forever’s a long time,” I said finally, keeping my voice light.
“So? I’m only seven. I’ve got forever.”
Damn kid. Didn’t she know how sharp words like that cut?
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You don’t make this easy, do you?”
“You make my mom happy, too. I like it when she is happy.”
Fuck. Me.
She leaned closer, stubborn as anything. “Please? You can live here with us. You can sleep in the extra room like you are right now, and I’ll let you borrow my stuffed animals if you get scared at night. And you can make pancakes. Clowns are good at pancakes, right?”
That made me laugh harder, the sound bursting out before I could stop it. “Never heard that about clowns and pancakes, but maybe you’re right.”
I didn’t feel the need to correct her by reminding her I’m not an actual clown.
Her face was so serious, though, it hurt to laugh. She meant it. She really wanted me here, in her world, part of her life. Hell, if that didn’t stir something deep inside me.
It fueled my desire to stay. To be in Snowberry Peak. But, that wasn’t up to me.
I cleared my throat, looking off at the tree line. “Tell you what. I can’t promise forever, but I’ll stick around as long as I can. Deal?”
She narrowed her eyes like she was negotiating terms of a contract. Then she thrust out a mittened hand. “Deal, but you have to pinky swear.”
“With mittens on?”
“It still counts.”
So I hooked my big gloved pinky around hers. “Deal.”
Ruby beamed, satisfied. I just sat there, chest heavier than I liked to admit, wondering when exactly this little girl had managed to carve out space inside me I didn’t know was there.
I liked kids.
I knew kids liked me.
But this one? This kid officially held onto a piece of my heart.
Of course, the moment couldn’t last.
Ruby snatched a leftover snowball and smacked me in the shoulder.
“Hey!” I growled.
She grinned, already running. “Truce is over!”
I chased her across the yard, laughing despite myself, letting her think she could outrun me. Her squeals rang through the snow-covered lodge grounds, and for a moment, I let myself imagine what it’d be like if this wasn’t temporary. If she really did have me around all the time.
The thought scared me half to death.
And warmed me all the same.