Page 43 of The Hanukkah Hoax
“You’re bloody brilliant, you know. Truly.” Alec swallowed against the insistent shiver snaking down his spine, the one that urged him to move closer to her like the wholehearted idiot he’d become whenever she smiled at him.
Marisa tugged on Hugh’s lead slightly. The mastiff instantly ceased his lumbering and eagerly obeyed, plopping his arse into the snow at her feet in a way he’d never done for Alec. Bloody smitten bastard.
And then another thought flitted through his mind as his chest tightened when she turned to face him. I’m right there with you, pal.
“People really seem to like us together,” Marisa said, wringing the lead between her hands.
He nodded. “That they do.”
“So many people have taken pictures. I haven’t checked my phone in a minute, but it keeps vibrating in my pocket. I’m guessing I’m getting all sorts of tags and mentions.”
She shifted Hugh’s lead to her left hand, leaving her to fidget and pump the right one absentmindedly, as if she were trying to ward off a chill that had set in. Made sense, as she’d largely been keeping her fingers clenched around the strap all this time.
“I have this crazy idea,” Marisa said, biting her lip.
“Oh?” He pointed two fingers at her cramping hand and gestured for her to give it to him. Following the most dramatic eye roll he’d ever seen, she finally relented, pulled off her mitten, and gave him her hand.
Bloody Christ, her fingers were freezing and tighter than his joints after a post-match ice bath. He got to work with single-minded focus, immediately rubbing warmth back into them.
“So, about my crazy idea,” she said, sighing as she began to move her fingers more freely. “What if you kissed me in front of the large pine tree over by the pretzel cart and made it really convincing that we were together? You know, as per the ground rules.”
The ground rules they’d never gotten around to discussing because he was too caught up in whatever sacred magic Marisa always seemed to carry with her.
Roaring heat flooded his body. “I have a crazy idea,” he said, lowering his head as he hunted for more of her fragrance with a determination that had begun to border on worship. “What if we didn’t call it crazy?”
She lifted her mouth to his, and he bent down, more than eager to claim what she offered, to warm the other parts of her as well, her cheeks, nose, lips?—
Hugh’s ears perked up, his large body tensing against the lead. Then his broad-skulled head whipped toward the woods right next to the walking path they were on, and Alec caught the flash of orange that had snagged Hugh’s attention.
A fox.
Motherfucker.
Knowing exactly what was coming, Alec wrapped one arm tightly around Marisa, who was still holding the lead slackly in her left hand. With a speed born of instinct, he yanked her to his chest, barely having time to secure her head beneath his chin before he grabbed the lead from her with his free hand and braced for what was coming.
A massive spray of snow was kicked up against them as Hugh bolted toward the woods, dragging them both to the ground.
Chapter 18
Alec gritted his teeth as his back slammed against the cold pavement.
Of course, they’d not had the luxury to fall on the acres of padded snow around them. A fiery ache shot up his spine, pinging the precise spot at the back of his head with the echo of his earlier injury.
Thankfully, Marisa had tumbled down with him, landing on his chest with a comfortable weight that eased the pain hammering him from behind. Dark disordered coils of her hair fanned over his eyes, getting in every sort of way, while his brother’s beast of a dog nearly pulled Alec’s meat from his bones. With one arm still banded tightly around Marisa, he flexed and pulled, his biceps straining with the effort of holding back two hundred and thirty pounds of motivated muscle.
“Hugh, you fucking bastard! Stop your pulling and get your arse back over here now!” But the threat lacked the true weight of Alec’s ire as every other word was broken up by him spitting out strands of Marisa’s hair, and dear lord, was she giggling into his chest? Was she for real?
“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit!” Marisa shrieked with glee and burrowed closer into his chest, which Hugh had already kicked a fair amount of snow on.
Bloody hell. Didn’t the woman have the good sense to sound properly terrified, instead of like a thirteen-year-old going on their first upside-down roller coaster and spewing every curse word they could get away with saying?
“Are you hurt?” Alec ducked his chin down and tried to holler around Hugh’s ear-ringing barks, but all that got him was more hair in his face, this time with some snow tossed in for variety.
“No,” she mumbled between his pecs, her shoulders bouncing. “Just, you know, horizontal when I wasn’t a moment ago.”
His stomach tightened with the one amused chuckle he had to spare, likely a result of Marisa’s infectiously humorous fierceness and complete lack of good sense. Then he asked in earnest, “Can you stand?”
“Probably.”
