Page 44 of Tied Up In Tinsel
“Cross my heart.”
She hopped off the counter, smoothing her dress back into place before snagging her purse from the chair. When she headed for the door, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Her hips swayed—more than a little on purpose—and I groaned, adjusting myself as if that would ease the ache.
At the door, she tossed me a lazy wave over her shoulder.
I was in trouble.
Brooks
Kids had more energy than sense. That was the first thing I figured out standing in the middle of Annie’s yard with a snowball in each hand and Ruby grinning at me like she’d just declared war.
“Take cover!” she shrieked, ducking behind a pine tree.
I shook my head, muttering, “What the hell did I get myself into?” before lobbing one in her direction. Missed on purpose. Mostly.
She popped her head out and nailed me in the chest so fast I didn’t even blink. Snow scattered across my flannel. I looked down at the wet spot, then back up at her, slow as a bear waking up from hibernation.
Ruby gasped. “Oh no. I woke the giant.”
She reached up and adjusted her bright pink winter hat with a toothy grin.
“You sure did,” I drawled, scooping up two fresh handfuls of snow. “And the giant doesn’t play nice.”
She squealed and darted off, pom-pom hat bouncing, boots kicking up powdered snow.
The next few minutes were a blur of yelling and laughter and more snow down my collar than I’d ever put up with in my life.Ruby didn’t throw hard, but the kid was crafty. She’d roll, dive, pop up like some kind of pint-sized soldier. If she’d been my size, I’d have been in trouble.
By the time I caught up, she was crouched behind a sloppy little mound of snow, stockpiling ammo like she’d been planning this all week.
“Is this your fortress?” I said, hands on my hips.
She tilted her chin up, serious as a general. “Every general needs a base.”
I had to bite back a grin. “And your battle strategy?”
Her mouth curved into the kind of grin that meant trouble. “Sneak attack.”
Three snowballs came at me lightning fast—one to the arm, one whizzing past my ear, and the third exploding right across my hairline. Cold dripped down my forehead.
Ruby’s laughter split the quiet yard.
“That’s it,” I muttered. “No more Mr. Nice Nanny.”
Her eyes went wide, and she tried to move.
I lunged. She shrieked and bolted, but her legs were half the length of mine. I caught her around the middle easily, tossed her over my shoulder like a sack of feed. She kicked and giggled so hard I almost dropped her.
“Put me down!” she ordered between gasps of laughter.
“Nope. Prisoners of war don’t get released on demand.”
“I’m not a prisoner, I’m the general!”
“Generals don’t lose snowball fights.” I set her down behind her fort, crouching low. “And you just lost, kid.”
She pouted, arms crossed, cheeks flushed bright pink from the cold. “Maybe I lost this time, but next time, I’ll win.”
“Uh-huh. We’ll see.”
