She narrowed her eyes at his amused tone. Some of the snow slid down the neck of her suit, and the cold shock of it made her curse.ĭante gently turned her, mouth curved, and batted away the snow. I’ll win, you’ll sulk, and then-” She came to sharp stop as clumps of snow plopped on her head, courtesy of the people on the chairlift above them tapping their skis together. “What’s the point?” she asked, awkwardly tromping through the snow in boots that felt like lead weights. Muttering a curse, Dante patted her ass hard enough to propel her forward. “I gave up when it became clear you have some kind of immunity to rat poison.” Glaring down at the skis and pole he’d rented for his mate, he growled, “Jaime!” She left her shit everywhere, and he was forever tripping over whatever messes she made. And almost went head over ass as his boot clipped something solid. She shivered as wind whistled around them the cold air was sharp and crisp yet somehow refreshing.
He was the sorest loser in the history of ever, which made it so much fun to win. Jaime just snorted, taking a moment to apply some lip balm. “How could I cheat at sliding down a slope?” “Only because the last time we went skiing you sulked whenever I beat you,” she said, batting snow from her hat and hair with thick gloves.
“No, you’re delaying going to the slopes.” He fisted a hand in her snowsuit and hauled her to her feet. “I’m making snow angels,” she told him cheerily. Skis and pole in hand, he walked to his mate the snow crunched beneath his heavy ski boots.
His mate never did anything he asked her to do. “Jaime, get off the floor.” But she didn’t. The sight might have been cute if it wasn’t for one thing. Turning away from the idyllic view of snow covered slopes, rocky mountains, and snowcapped trees, Dante saw a group of chuckling little girls flat on their backs, making snow angels.
0 kommentar(er)
