Chapter Fifteen
“Friendship marks a life even more deeply than love. Love risks degenerating into obsession, friendship is never anything but sharing.”
Elie Wiesel
Ivy
“Let’s get Aunt Ivy,” Jack called.
I turned from sculpting swirls in our snowwoman’s hair, holding my handy paint scraper, which made the perfect styling tool.
I was quite proud of her voluminous do. My family took snowman building way too seriously.
Hence the salon chair my brother Shane had constructed for our snowwoman.
It truly was a masterpiece. If we didn’t win the contest, judged by Dad, I was going to be severely disappointed.
Coming my way was the cutest sight in the world: Emma, bundled in the most darling floral snowsuit, on top of Jack’s shoulders, holding a snowball that was as big as her head. It was enough to send a heat wave through me even though Jack Frost was nipping at way more than my nose.
We’d all been out here for hours, pausing only for a couple of hot chocolate breaks. The first person to go in was always kind of seen as wimping out, so we suffered for our art and our egos.
And . . . maybe this year I felt it was safer out in the elements even if I couldn’t feel most of my extremities.
I still couldn’t believe I’d up and kissed Jack in the privacy of our room. Truthfully, I’d almost kissed him the night before in bed.
I know. I know. It felt like I was cheating on our friendship. There was just something about being in his arms. He was so tender about it. And when we were alone, it just felt like we were in our own little Jack-and-Ivy bubble, and I loved that bubble.
Then earlier in the day, when he’d been vulnerable with me, sharing a bit of his past . . . It had done something to me. Jack was never vulnerable, and I liked it. A lot. More than I should have, obviously.
Now, here he was, looking way too sexy holding my niece. He had a whole lumberjack vibe going with his retro corduroy-and-lambswool coat and beanie cap. But it was more than that. What was it about a man being adorable with kids that made him irresistible?
And this hadn’t been a one-time deal with him. The last few days, he’d been incredible with my nieces and nephews. Patient and present. Even silly and playful. It was a side of Jack I hadn’t known existed and yet another one I was having visions of being more than friends with. Dang him.
Where was Mr. Holiday when I needed him?
Don’t fall for your best friend, Ivy. Don’t fall for Jack.
I worried I had already tripped and that a crash landing was in my future. But I was determined that, even if I did crash spectacularly, I was going to pick myself up, bruises and all, and keep our friendship intact.
I would just have to wean myself off his kisses and his touch. I could do it. Right? Of course I could . . . after I kissed him a few more times. Ugh, I seriously had issues.
“What do you think you’re doing, Miss Emma?” I said playfully, focusing on my niece and not on the smoldering way my best friend stared at me.
Why did he look like he could devour me? Could I be getting to him the way he was getting to me? Or was he just proving how great of an actor he was?
“We’re going to get you.” Her three-year-old voice sounded anything but scary. She was too cute to be menacing.
The real threat was the man aiding and abetting her.
“Not if I get you first.” I dropped the paint scraper and bent down to scoop up some snow. That was my first mistake.
In a sneak attack, Jack and Emma rushed me, and Emma dropped the snowball on my face. While I spluttered, Jack lowered Emma on top of me, knocking me over.
“I’m getting you. I’m getting you.” Emma giggled, perched on top of me.
Jack had no idea what he’d just done. He’d initiated a Wells family snowball fight.
Once someone threw—or in this case, dropped—the first snowball, all bets were off, and the war began.
“Snowball fight!” Kaden yelled, and within seconds, snowballs began whizzing across the expansive backyard, which backed up against the forest. The tall pine trees served as sentinels, outlining the property so no fence was ever needed. I always thought it was very fairytale–like.
I grabbed Emma, carefully rolled over, and tried to shield her.
Jack dove and landed by our side like he was starring in one of his action movies. His grin said he thought he was so cool. And to be honest, he was.
Several snowballs pelted us.
“Do you see what you started?”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
“What’s that?”
“Grab Emma and hide behind your client. By the way, the snow hairdo is impressive. You never cease to amaze me.” He leaned in and brushed my lips.
It was a good thing Emma was with us, or I might have just pulled him to me and showed my family I was still the queen of PDA.
I grabbed Emma to save her—and my heart. We scrambled around our snowwoman. Jack, ever the hero, used his body as a shield, taking direct hits from my brothers, who were expert snowball makers and even better throwers.
And just wait until Paige got in on the action. She was stealthy and knew how to make lethal snowballs. Tiny and icy.
“Damn,” Jack muttered as another snowball nailed him.
“Let this be your lesson to never engage in a snowball fight with a Wells.”
Jack smirked at me. “Watch and learn, darlin’.”
Oh, he was insufferable, but I had come to love his cocky side.
“Looks like you drank your arrogance juice this morning.”
“Always.” He winked while preparing ammo. Like he wasn’t already losing.
No doubt he would end up as the victor. That was just his way.
“Make sure to increase the pressure with each rotation,” I schooled him in proper snowball-making technique.
“Got it.”
Together, we made quick work of amassing a stockpile.
“You go left; I’ll go right,” Jack directed. “Maybe hold Emma. That might give you some protection.”
Although I knew he was trying to be chivalrous, I laughed. “You don’t know my family. They’ll only try to steal her and then pummel me.”
Jack’s brow furrowed.
“Didn’t know what kind of crazy you were getting into, did you?”
“Your family is a little scary,” he admitted with a smile.
“I did warn you.”
“Yes, you did. Well . . . A kiss for good luck, then.” Jack, without hesitation, grabbed my coat and pulled me flush against him.
His lips crashed into mine, urgently, passionately. A low groan rumbled from his chest. And the way his tongue barely skimmed my lips said he wanted more.
And honestly?
So did I.
But then a sane thought hit me. Jack truly was acting out an action movie scene, and I was just his costar in this production.
I tore myself away from him. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”
Jack seemed a little dazed, as if my kiss had actually affected him. But he shook his head, his cocky attitude snapping back into place.
“Nah, I got this.” He picked up Emma and several snowballs in one effortless swoop and barreled headlong into the fray.
With my own supply of frozen ammunition, I went left and tried to give Jack some cover. Although he was faring well on his own. Shocker. Somehow he dodged, wove, and landed every throw, all while holding a toddler who was egging him on by yelling, “Get ’em, Un-coh Jack! Get ’em!”
Oh, she was calling him uncle. Or at least trying to. Sometimes those Ls were hard for her. It was the cutest thing ever.
No matter how she said, “uncle,” it stopped me in my tracks. Big mistake.
Paige had entered the fight, coming in from behind the judge and jury she’d made of snow, and she played dirty.
Her ice bullets penetrated my coat and made me forget for half a second that I was an evil, lying monster.
Now, even my little niece was going to be heartbroken when Jack and I “broke up.”
Maybe he could just be like an honorary uncle. That would work. Right? Please let me be right. I mean, we would still be best friends. Hopefully. And someday, I would give my nieces and nephews a really great uncle. At least, that was the plan.
You know, after I got over my best friend, one of the sexiest men on the planet.
That should be a piece of cake. Except that the cake was too yummy and maybe even the best I’d ever tasted. Oh, gosh, I obviously had not thought through all the complications of this fake relationship. I knew we should never have kissed.
And yet . . . I wanted to again.
Argh! I had problems.
One of those being that I got pelted in the face by a snowball.
“Ouch!” I complained before zinging a return shot at Paige, who looked like a soldier ready for war. She’d even placed a smudge of coal under each eye. It was a little frightening. No wonder people were terrified of her in the courtroom.
Paige dodged my snowball by an inch. “Come on, little sister—I taught you better than that.”
That she had. I grinned and launched another snowball her way. Proudly, it was a direct hit to her chest. But the thrill of victory never came.
Paige, unfazed by my snowball throwing skills, pointed toward the forest. “There’s a man in the trees taking pictures,” she shouted.
What the what?
My parents’ closest neighbors were half a mile away.
The chaos immediately stopped as we all turned toward where Paige pointed. And sure enough, there was a man with a large telephoto lens hustling down the tree.
“Stop! My husband and I are lawyers.”
I’m not sure why she thought that was going to stop the man. I was sure it was paparazzo, and I felt ill.
Jack, rushing to my side, only confirmed my suspicions.
Meanwhile, my family all charged the man, launching a snowball attack with Paige leading the way. If it weren’t so unnerving to have someone spying on us, it would have been a hilarious scene.
“You’re infringing on our reasonable expectation of privacy under established precedent!” Paige shouted.
Peter gave the lawyer lingo a thumbs-up of approval, then threw another snowball. “Any unauthorized photos will be subject to immediate legal challenge and takedown.”
Still holding Emma, Jack wrapped his arms around me, sandwiching my niece between us. Shielding us both. But it was too late. Who knew how long that man had been up there. He’d probably snapped thousands of pictures.
“Damn Sienna,” Jack growled.
“That’s a bad word,” Emma reminded him.
Jack looked half abashed. “Right. I’m not used to having to watch my language.”
“That’s okay; my mommy says it all the time.”
I laughed despite my unease with the whole situation, knowing my sister was indeed proficient in all the swear words.
“What does Sienna have to do with it?” I mean, photogs followed Jack frequently.
“If I’m right”—Jack’s jaw tightened—“that was Tae Cho, Sienna’s favorite paparazzo. She pays him to follow her around.”
I wrinkled my nose. “What? Why would she do that? Don’t celebrities hate the paparazzi?”
“That’s what they want everyone to think, but some use them. More press coverage. More attention. Keeping their name in the public eye.”
“So, why have him take pictures of you?”
Jack’s voice dipped. “You mean us?”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
Jack kissed my forehead. “She’s desperate to prove she’s right about us.”
She kind of was, but I thought better of mentioning it.
“But don’t worry—Tae is actually a decent guy. He doesn’t alter shots, and he’s known for telling it like it is. Any photos he took today will only prove Sienna wrong.”
Maybe this time.
But how long before our secret unraveled?
How long before everyone knew Jack and I were just faking it?