Page 71 of Never Sleigh Never
“So you’re my dirty little secret?”
“Only if you do dirty things to me.” She gives me a salacious grin.
Fuck. Don’t think about last night. Do not think about last night. I adjust myself and shut the door before she notices. A part of me enjoys bickering and arguing with Brie because she’s quick-witted, but the sexy flirting with Brie is way better.
She follows me into the kitchen, and I set the wine and cookies on the counter. “Josie put together a snowman-making kit.”
Josie climbs onto a stool. “I didn’t have a top hat, but I have one of my dad’s hockey hats.” She points to a knit beanie. “I also got a scarf, some charcoal for eyes, and even a carrot for the nose.”
“Wow, this is perfect.” Brie’s eyes sparkle as she looks over the collection.
“Josie, why don’t you get your stuff on, and we’ll go outside,” I say.
Once outside, Josie scoops snow into her mittens and squishes it into a ball while Brie does the same. I stand off to the side, supervising, where it’s safe.
“Let’s start with yours, Josie.” Brie collects the snowball from Josie’s grasp, sets it in the pristine snow, and rolls it. With each turn, more and more snow collects, growing the ball. “Now the trick is as you’re rolling, you also shape it. It’ll help save time later.”
Brie smooths the sides of the ball before she continues rolling it. As Brie bends over, her ass is straight in my line of sight, round and perfect. She glances over her shoulder and catches me staring, I bite back a laugh. Busted.
“Why don’t you start another snowball for the head?” Brie asks.
“Alright.” I grab a handful of snow and carefully compact it into a ball. “There you go.” I hold out my open palm with the snowball nestled on top.
“Dad, your ball is weird!” Josie scolds as I present my lumpy, egg-shaped effort.
“Can’t we shave it down later?” I study the lump of snow in my palm.
“Dad! You’re doing it wrong. It’s best to start with a ball,” Josie huffs.
Brie giggles. “Here, let me.” She takes my hand, molds it over the snow, then covers it with hers. “Like this.”
My heart stammers in my chest. She’s focused on the snowball, but I’m focused on the warmth of her hand over mine. On the flush in her cheeks. On the smile tugging her lips.
When her gaze flicks up and collides with mine, I nearly lean down and kiss her right there.
Instead, I clear my throat. “Looks like you two have this covered. I’ll, uh, get dinner started.”
From the kitchen window, I watch Brie and Josie smile, laugh, and playfully throw snow at each other. Josie deserves this kind of joy that I can’t give her alone. I hate she’ll miss out on pivotal mother-daughter moments. First school dance. First boyfriend. First heartbreak. Wedding dress shopping. I’m a poor substitute, even though I’d be by her side if she wanted. Brooke would be better.
The sizzle of chicken and onions fills the kitchen, the scent of garlic and butter drifting through the air. When I glance out the window, Brie and Josie are in the yard, already laughing over their third snowman. I shake my head, grinning. They look like they’ve been doing this together forever.
A little while later, the patio door bangs open, and the pair tumble inside, dusted in snow.
“Alright, alright,” I laugh. “Brush it off before you track half the yard into the kitchen.”
They stomp their boots in unison, giggling as they swat snow from each other’s coats.
“Dinner smells delicious.” Brie shrugs out of her jacket.
“Dad always makes it with extra cheese,” Josie pipes up proudly.
“You can’t go wrong with extra cheese.” Brie winks at me.
I fake a groan. “Hey, don’t go giving away all my secrets.” That earns me another round of laughter—Brie’s light and warm, Josie’s bubbling over.
“Josie, why don’t you wash up? Dinner’s almost ready,” I say.
“Okay!” She bolts for the bathroom.
