Page 20 of Their Little Snow Angel
Brody
As the storm rages outside, we play. Heath and Violet put together a puzzle. While they lean over the board, I snap a couple photos of Violet. Her brown eyes are intent on the pieces, her beautiful mouth twisted in concentration.
When Heath was collecting firewood yesterday, he also cut down a small tree. We set it up in the living room with a makeshift stand. Although we don’t have any ornaments, the scent is nice.
We play Uno. Winner gets to choose a movie to watch on my laptop. Violet wins, raising her arms in victory. I catch Heath taking a photo of her in that pose.
The power goes out, but I’ve already downloaded the movie, and the battery life on my laptop is solid. We light a few candles. The effect is romantic and sensual.
I’m falling for this girl. Actually, I’m not falling—I’ve already fallen. I fell hard and fast. I can see our future stretching out ahead of us, full of love.
She snuggles between us as we watch a sexy movie about Greek gods doing very dirty things. I get up to retrieve a bag of caramel popcorn. I return to see Violet snuggled against Heath’s side. They both look peaceful, content. I grab my camera and take a photo. Heath looks up at the sound of the shutter, but Violet, absorbed in Psyche’s striptease, doesn’t notice.
None of the beds here are big enough for three. I’m thinking we should get a bunch of blankets and pillows and make a puppy pile here in front of the fireplace.
But Violet stretches and stands. “Goodnight, Heath. Goodnight, Brody.”
She walks up the stairs to her room before I can come up with a good argument.
Heath watches her go, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“What the fuck was that?” I whisper.
“Mason spooked her.” He meets my gaze. “I don’t know if he said anything about us specifically, but she started pulling away after he called.”
“She did?”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re so obtuse.”
“Fuck you.” I don’t even know what obtuse means.
Laughing, he says, “We’ll win her back tomorrow, don’t worry. It’s Christmas. We just need the right gift.”
I nod. “Already on it.”
Heath
I wake up alone in my own bed, already missing Violet.
I’ve slept with and played with quite a few women. It’s always been enjoyable, but it’s always been a body-level compatibility. But with Violet, there’s more. She’s kind, funny, vulnerable, sweet. And so fucking smart. Her mind is incredible.
Brody’s fallen for her. I’ve fallen for her.
But Mason…he’s going to be furious.
I indulge myself in the thought that perhaps Mason would approve. He would see just how much we love his little girl, and he’ll get on board with the idea.
And then, Mason calls. I grab my phone from the nightstand, frowning at the screen. What did he say to her last night?
I swipe my thumb across the screen to answer. “Hey, Mason. Merry Christmas.”
“It’s Christmas.” He sounds grumpy.
He also sounds like he’s traveling, probably on a golf cart or some shit. I never understood how he could take up the sport with Retta. Nothing against the sport, but he used to be into activities that involved more speed and strength. He used to go climbing with me and Brody. When he married Retta, all of that changed.
He adds, “How’s everything at the cabin? I saw a storm warning.”
“Everything’s great. The power went out, but it’s back up already. The storm has passed. I gathered more firewood and we were plenty warm. Got some good photos, too.” Photos of his daughter. He doesn’t need to know that, though.
