Page 44 of Wedlocked

I made a rude noise. “He’s Win’s choice. Our family now.”

Wes smirked like the little brat he was. “He’s been our family for a while.”

“And I’ve always had his back.”

Wes nodded. “But now it’s not out of obligation to Win. It’s because you like him.”

Grabbing Wes around the waist, I turned, tugging him so our chests were pressed together. “You jealous?”

The yellow beanie shifted when he raised his brows. “Should I be?”

Using my ungloved hand, I ripped the bright material right off his head, freeing his rumpled curls, and buried my fingersdeep. Something in me loosened, as it always did when my fingers knotted in his curls, and I tugged his face up so I could bring mine down and claim his frosty lips.

I didn’t pull back at the nippy temperature of his skin, instead nipping back, lightly gnawing on his wind-stung lips until they parted with a sigh, and I swept my tongue into the warmth of his mouth. He whimpered low, and I gulped down the sound, twisting our tongues together while tightening the fist in his hair. His neck loosened, giving up all control, and I cradled the back of his skull, moving effortlessly against his now warm, pillow-soft lips. Our tongues flirted, a flick here, a caress there, and the teasing caresses made me impatient. I deepened the kiss until our mouths were completely fused and we were forced to come up for air.

“Maxi.” His breathy sigh expelled a white cloud that drifted between us. That nickname was so bad it was criminal, but I let him get away with it every single time.

“Nothing even comes close to how much I love you,” I told him. “Nothing ever will.”

His cheeks were bright pink when he leaned down to grab my glove that had fallen into the snow at our feet. After shaking it out, he held it open. “Your fingers will get cold.”

I kept my eyes trained on his brown ones while I jammed my hand back into the glove, watching him as he looked down to make sure the glove was on the right way and then tugged his beanie back on.

“Let’s go ski now,” he said, gesturing toward the lift that would take us up to the run lit up in blue neon light.

“Hey.” I was gruff, pulling him back around.

The tilt of his lips told me he knew exactly what he was doing.Brat.

“Don’t you have something to say?” I inquired.

He pursed his lips, then shrugged. “Nope.”

The little shit started walking off.

“Wesley Evan Sinclair.”

His laugh was a burst of sudden sound, and it carried on the wind as he spun, chocolate eyes sparkling and curls sticking out from beneath the crooked cap.

Before I could growl, he launched himself at me, kicking up snow with his heavy ski boots. My breath whooshed out when I caught him, my thigh muscles trembling under the onslaught.

He shifted, rebalancing some of his weight, and tucked his arms around my neck.

“You weigh a ton in all this ski shit. I ought to dump you on your ass.”

“I love you, Maxi.”

“Don’t try and sweet talk me, brat.”

“I love you so much that I let you tattoo your name right there over my heart,” he said, pressing a gloved hand over the spot where I knew he wore my tattoo.

I never should have agreed to that piece. He used it against me all the time. But damn, did I get some satisfaction seeing my name carved right there into his skin.

“You’re the moon in my sky, reigning over all the stars, the only wish I ever had,” he whispered, pressing the tip of his cold nose to mine.

“Fuck Midnight Madness. We’re going home,” I said, shifting so he was over my shoulder, and started toward the car.

He laughed. “I’ll go anywhere with you, Maxi.”

---