Chapter 3
We zip forward, and I leave my breath at the top of the hill.
At the last moment, muscle memory takes over, and I angle us away from a hazard area.
Though with Leo’s thighs wrapping mine and his arms braced on either side of me, I’m in a different danger zone altogether.
So yeah, I’m distracted, but I manage to control the wooden beast.
The speed at which we’re moving is thrilling, and a laugh rips from my lips. We catch a little air, and Leo gives a whoop. But then … the left metal rail beneath us snaps from the frame. Tossing us off kilter, the sled shooting out from beneath us. We’re a tangle of limbs amidst flying powder.
When all the snow settles, I’m on top of Leo.
“Are you okay?” Alarm threads his tone.
“I think.” I take bodily inventory. Nothing hurts. Not at present, at least. “You?”
“I’m good.” His warmth seeps into me, and I realize I am still, in fact, atop the man, my blond hair pooling against the curve of his neck.
Worse, I ruined this experience for him. “I’m sorry. Your first ever sled run, and it’s a disaster.” Meanwhile, I try to think of the most graceful way to remove my body from his.
Before I can move, he brushes the snow from my cheek. “Don’t apologize. It was memorable.” His leather glove, soft against my skin, trails down my jaw. “Thank you.”
My attention-starved heart is holding up a cardboard sign saying, “Free to a Good Home.” Ridiculous.
I quickly swat away the absurd thought. Aside from his touch, which is enough for me to click repeat on my memory’s playlist, the man smells amazing.
It’s some woodsy spice cologne that has my senses screaming for more.
“Of course.” My voice pitches an octave higher.
“I’m just … uh … gonna …” And I roll off him like a log.
My boot gets caught under his leg, and I hit the snow again with a thud.
“This is not my night.” I am staring into the sky.
At least the clouds have cleared. The glistening stars blink an “all is calm, all is bright” kinda thing.
A pretty view, but I currently have snow dripping into my ear.
Leo, in a much more athletic way, climbs to his feet and helps me stand.
I turn and glare at the sled. “You had one job,” I say to its mangled form, and Leo chuckles beside me.
I found it at an estate sale for super cheap.
I only intended to use it as a prop for my float, and now I see it should’ve remained in that role.
“Well, we made it to the bottom.” I state the obvious because my intelligence clearly shines in these moments.
“We probably tumbled about a fourth of it, but we still made it.”
“If you wanted to roll in the snow with me, you should’ve asked.”
I gasp. “That was not my fault. I?—”
“I know.” Shadows flit across his face, but I catch his teasing grin as he raises both hands. “Sorry, it was too good an opportunity to pass up.”
He’s flirting with me. I’ve never really been good at this kind of stuff.
Actually, I’m not good at all. I’m currently caught in this whimsical evening, powered by dancing snowflakes, multi- colored lights in the distance, and a handsome guy who seems like some Christmas mirage.
Everything is surreal until I realize snow has leaked into my boot.
Nothing zaps a girl to reality like the threat of pruney toes.
I glance at Leo, then down my snow-crusted body. “I think we’re wearing half the slope on our persons.” We begin dusting ourselves off and help each other with any missed spots. Leo is very respectful in his hand placement, keeping to my shoulders and back.
He ties the rope of the sled to the broken metal rail, securing it to the seat.
I wrinkle my nose at the hill. One thing about sledding, it takes ten seconds to get down and roughly a hundred years to climb up. However, I don’t have that much time. I check my phone.
Fifteen minutes to get to my car and drive home. “I’m sorry to cut this”—whatever this is—“short, but I have to go.” So I don’t sound like some teen with a curfew, I explain, “I’m my Gran’s caregiver. It’s nearly time for her meds.”
“Is your grandfather?—”
“He’s very much alive, and very much clueless on anything but playing cards and making inappropriate jokes to Gran.
He loves her, but he can’t be in control of her medications.
” The man can remember a hand he was dealt in a 1980s cribbage tournament but can’t recall if he put on clean underwear.
He’s clearly not fit for the task of measuring her sleeping doses and administering the correct thyroid pill.
“I bet they’re thankful for you.” He grabs the sled, and we make the slow journey up the hill. “Though I can see how it can get overwhelming.”
“Yeah, but when I think about what I’m doing, it’s rewarding.” It probably sounds like I’m trying to convince myself, but I honestly believe my words. “It’s something of value. I mean, what’s more valuable than a human life?”
He slows his steps. “I wish more people felt like you.” There is something in his gaze that makes my heart stretch toward him a little.
I don’t know his background, but while I’m gabbing on about family, he hasn’t mentioned his once.
I’m excused from answering because my feet slip like Bambi on ice.
Leo reaches out and saves me from faceplanting into the snow.
“Thanks,” I mutter. Another strike against my “mystery girl” persona. Instead of exuding an air of intrigue, I’m showing off my awkwardness.
He offers his arm. “I’d volunteer to give you a piggyback, but Mitchell might come after me.” He nods to the top of the hill where the Silver Creek deputy is indeed standing guard.
I laugh. “He’s a bit protective of me.”
“I’d be too,” he says casually as if it doesn’t make my pulse stutter.
We safely reach the top of the hill. Mitchell gives me a nod and wanders off to the apple dumpling food truck. Oh, that reminds me. I grab my wallet and fish out a five. “Here.”
He eyes my wadded, probably mildly damp, bill. “And this is for?”
“Have you learned nothing?” I would shake his shoulders, but I’ve touched the man enough for one evening. “Your hot chocolate. It’s what you do after sledding. I have to run, but don’t let that keep you from experiencing the full effect.”
He takes my hand and gently curls my fingers around the money. “I’ve a better idea. How about we both go for hot chocolate when you have more time?”
“But—”
“It’ll technically still be after sledding.”
“It’s more than that.” A group of teens is moving like an amoeba down the walkway, so I step closer to Leo, letting them pass. “It’s that jolt of warmth after being in the cold.”
“I can’t have my first hot chocolate experience without you.”
“Looks like we’re at an impasse.”
His mouth arcs into a flirty smile that I’m not prepared for. “Not if you agree to meet me again.”
We haven’t even exchanged numbers or last names.
The romantic part of my brain is on its knees begging me to say yes.
The practical side has its arms folded with an upturned sniff because I don’t even have time to paint my toenails, let alone date anybody.
I barely get time to shower and cram food in before duty calls me away.
But a man, a very handsome man, is interested in me.
Although … he hasn’t yet seen me in the light of day.
Once the ambiance of this night fades, his interest might as well.
Tonight I’ve been spontaneous and fun, but the everyday-life Greta Carlton gets a dopamine hit from changing the bed with freshly dried sheets. “I … don’t know.”
“How about this …” He holds the sled in front of him and crosses his arms over it. If it were anyone else, I’d totally call them a poser, but Leo looks so natural and attractive that my resistance is weakening. “I’m going out of town, but I’ll be back a couple of weeks before Christmas.”
I nod, but my mind’s like some freakish snow globe—thoughts swirl about, but as soon as one almost settles, my rattled nerves decide to give my brain another shake.
It’s been forever since I’ve been on a date.
The last time was because Leonard, the ear-haired Maverick, set me up with his great-nephew.
As far as dates went, it was about as delightful as a case of food poisoning.
The guy smelled like McDonald’s onions and claimed to use the restroom and never returned, leaving me with the steakhouse bill.
Leo is completely unaware of my inner struggle. “I’ll be by the bench near the turtledoves display with two hot chocolates on December fifteenth. Say, around seven.”
“No.” I sigh. “I can tell now that I’m no good for you.”
He raises a brow. “Because?”
“You just named a date off the top of your head. This makes me assume you’re one of those organized people who can visualize calendars and commit to schedules.
Thing is, I usually can’t remember what day it is.
” I’m all over the place, organizationally speaking. “Wait. Are you a spreadsheet person?”
“Not really.” He smiles. “But if you’re trying to pull some weird confession out of me, I use Google Tasks several times a day.”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about. You use digital task managers, and I write on receipt backs that I end up losing. I’m dangerous to your kind of efficiency, Leo.” I pat his shoulder with a slow shake of my head. “I’ll ruin you.”
“I like your kind of danger.” His low-pitched voice smooths over me, pricking my body with chills.
Okay, time to go.
“The fifteenth is a Sunday, if you’re wondering.”
I nod again because, apparently, that’s the only movement my brain allows at present. I could probably do that day and time. It’d be simple to get Gran and Pap their dinners and head here.
“But no pressure. If you don’t show, I’ll take that you’re not interested.”