Page 21 of Wrapped Up In You
“Let’s go clean off our cars.”
With relief that we weren’t going to revisit the topic of my divorce, I let him pull me up. But before he took a step away from me, I pulled him into my arms. I didn’t say anything more, and neither did he. We simply stood there and held each other.
12
HAYDEN
We changed into winter-weather gear and made our way outside to go about clearing off our cars. Unsurprisingly, my decision to come up to the cabin had been an impulsive one, and my packing reflected that. I had nothing but joggers, hoodies, socks, and holiday-themed underwear, and the only shoes I’d brought were an old pair of Nikes. Not exactly snow-shoveling attire, but it would have to do.
Jonathan, of course, had donned snow pants, waterproof boots, and a thick winter coat. We both pulled on gloves and beanies, and Jonathan loaned me an extra scarf. Because, of course, he had an extra scarf. But whereas I previously might have rolled my eyes at his inexplicable need to overpack and over-plan, I now was starting to understand that he did these things out of a need for control. And I sure as shit couldn’t complain when it helped me out in the process.
The sun shone bright as we made our way outside. Temperatures had climbed to a balmy twenty-nine degrees, and with the sun shining, some of the snow had started melting just a bit. We trudged a path through the thick snow in the direction of the shed, off to the side of the cabin. Thankfully, the distance wasn’t too far, though I had snow inside my shoes by the time I made it inside. After finding a shovel and a broom, we proceeded to make our way back toward the driveway, with me clearing our path with the shovel and Jonathan following behind with the broom.
I wasn’t sure how effective he would be operating a broom with his left hand in the heavy snow, but I recognized his need to do something productive and get out of his head for a while, so I figured it was easier to just get it over with. Besides, I was starting to get restless in the cabin, so it probably wouldn’t hurt to burn off some energy too.
Though I could think of other, more pleasurable ways to accomplish that.
I began working on clearing a path around each of our cars, hoping to make it easier for Jonathan to get to them to brush off the snow. Of course that meant I’d have to go around them all over again because the snow he brushed off landed right in the spots I’d just cleared. Too late to change course now, I kept at it, working up a sweat despite the chilly air.
As I worked, I kept thinking back to the way Jonathan had looked at breakfast this morning. I couldn’t get the image of him looking so utterly broken as he’d told me what that bitch had said to him. I’d always thought of him as self-assured and totally unflappable, who never had to worry about being overrun with emotion and self-doubt because he knew who he was and didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thought.
But as I’d sat there, listening to him talk, his voice so small, I’d realized he was just as human as the rest of us. He’d been hurt by a woman who hadn’t valued the beautiful man he was. He was still hurting, in fact, though I was willing to bet he’d convinced himself he was fine. I’d wanted to pull him into my lap and kiss all that hurt away until he was my Lucy once again, serious and full of judgmental snark. Though that wasn’t really who he was to me anymore. He was often serious and could definitely be judgy, but he’d also played drinking games with me, kept a copy ofElfin his stack of videos at the cabin, and had insisted on holding me while we slept last night. There was another side of him I thought he didn’t let out to play very often, and for some reason, I was privileged to see it. I wanted to see more.
We’d been at it for about thirty minutes, me shoveling the driveway and Jonathan pushing snow off our cars with the broom, when I was pelted in the neck with a snowball.
“What the f—?”
Thwack.Another one hit me square in the back, followed by childish squeals of glee from the thirty-two-year-old man I’d had a discussion about routines and structure with just an hour ago.
As melting snow slid down my neck and underneath my hoodie, I wanted to be pissed, but the sound of his laughter, so pure and free, ringing out on a beautiful Christmas morning, had me smiling, even as I doubled over to make a snowball of my own.
I grabbed more snow on the run, laughing as I dove behind the other side of my car.
“Come on, Hay. You know you can’t hide.”
“Not fair, Lucy, hitting me from behind without warning.”
“Aw, you’ll be okay. I’m throwing left-handed. I figure that makes us evenly matched.”
As he pursued me, I crept around the car slowly, moving in the opposite direction of the sound of his voice, trying to settle on a strategy. I wasn’t going down without a fight.
“You’re saying you’re so good that it’s only fair if you fight left-handed? Or are you saying I’m that bad?”
“Don’t take it personally. I played baseball in high school.” I was momentarily distracted by images of him in a baseball uniform.Fuckthat was hot.
I shook it off. His voice was getting closer, and if I didn’t make a move, he would have me cornered between his car and mine.
“Did I forget to tell you? One of my obsessions in college was darts. I have excellent aim.” Jumping up from my crouch, I launched a snowball at him and made a run for it, not bothering to see if I’d hit my intended target, and headed back down the path toward the shed.
I’d thought to seek cover behind the building, but I’d miscalculated and came face to face with Jonathan, who’d come from the other side. He grabbed my arms, pulling me into him before I could escape.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
His cheeks were flushed with cold and exertion, and his eyes were alight with mischief. It was almost painful to look at him, like looking directly into the sun. And yet, as if I was a flower in bloom, I couldn’t resist turning toward his warmth, basking in his joy.
He’d never looked so beautiful.
“I believe you started this. You’ve pelted me with snow, and you’ve trapped me behind the shed. Now what are you going to do, Lucy?”
