Page 24 of Wedding Bet

He wasn’t like the Mercedes-driving, snobbish tourists who would turn their noses up at my beat-up old Toyota in the parking lot of my work.

He was genuine.

“You two!” I turned to see Chase, Shawn, and Nathan running up to us with wicked smiles on their faces. “Snowball fight! Come over here!”

“I’ve never been in a snowball fight,” I said.

“I was about to say no,” Landry told Shawn, “but now that I know Jamie’s never had a snowball fight, I know I could absolutely cream him. Let’s go.”

“Only thing better than a snowball fight is adrunkenone,” Shawn said, pulling on my arm. “And I’ve had plenty of beers tonight.”

“I’m pretty buzzed, myself,” I said as he led us over past the edge of the fairgrounds to a snowy clearing surrounded by trees. He’d already gotten the rest of the guys in on the snowball fight, and more people were starting to join.

“Think fast!” Nathan said and a moment later, a snowball pelted me on the chest.

“Hey! That was a cheap shot.”

Nathan laughed. “Fair game.”

I wadded up a mound of snow and tossed it back at him, and before long I was in the thick of it, learning how to pack the snow best and tossing snowballs at Landry and Chase and everybody else. For the next twenty minutes, I was running around like a kid, diving into snow banks on my knees, and laughing like an idiot as the usual chatter in my brain melted away.

It was blissful. My adrenaline was pumping at first, and then by the end of the big snowball fight, everyone gave each other high-fives and we turned to build a snowman, instead. Our snowman turned out lopsided and one-eyed, but he was cute enough, and we named him Milton.

It was only when I started walking back over toward the fairgrounds exit that I noticed my hair, pants, and jacket were all half-wet, soaked in patches from the melting snowballs.

“I’m totally screwed,” I told Landry, looking down at the state of my clothing.

“Mine’s just as bad,” he said. “Come on. We can dry all of this off in my suite.”

“You know that feeling when youthinkyou’re sober, but then once you get home, you realize you’re a lot drunker than you thought?” I asked him as the elevator door slid shut.

“Are you having that right now? Because I’m absolutely having that right now,” he told me, pressing the elevator button for the penthouse level.

We’d been back at the hotel for only a couple of minutes, and I felt like a kid coming inside after playing for hours in the cold.

“Big time,” I told him. “I’m drunk. And cold. And wet. But somehow also happy.”

“I have plenty of water in my suite, if you need it,” Landry offered.

When we got off the elevator, I realized that the top floor hallway was much shorter than the other hallways, probably because there were only a few gigantic suites up at this level. We got to the door quickly and Landry beeped through using his key. “Of course, I also have single-malt scotch up here, and that’s whatI’llbe tucking into. Because it’s still early, and I see no reason to end the night just yet.”

I felt a little fizz in my chest. “I like the sound of that,” I told him.

He pushed open the door to his room and for a moment I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me.

This wasn’t just any hotel room.

Landry’s suite was bigger than some entirehousesI’d been in.

A long hallway led down to a main living room area with a circular fireplace right in the center of the floor, the main centerpiece of the room. Behind it were walls and walls of glass windows, all looking out onto the incredible mountain views below. The living room had a long, white L-shaped couch tossed with blankets, pillows, and throws, and across from the living area there was a full-sized modern kitchen.

Landry walked in casually, thinking nothing of it as he peeled off his coat, turning back toward me as he led me to another short hall.

“Okay, we can work on getting your marshmallow jacket dried off,” he said, reaching out with his hand.

I’d been so wrapped up in looking at the suite that I’d forgotten how soaked my clothes had gotten.

“Oh. Right,” I said, snapping out of it. I pulled off my jacket and handed it to him, looking down at my jeans. “These are really more of an issue.”

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