Page 34 of Fake It Till We Fall
He laughed. “Is that right? You mean, all these years in tropical locations, you still managed to find time to keep your skills sharp?”
He had me there.
“Okay, so I actually haven’t spent any time in the snow since I—well, for a while.”
We both knew when that last time was. We’d stood in this very same field, working together on our snowman.
I swallowed hard and shook my head to clear it before crouching and scooping up some snow. “We should get started.”
Grayson hesitated, but only for a second, before he squatted next to me and joined me in packing snow into a ball. “I can’t wait to see how this turns out.”
Me too.
We worked side by side, rolling the base until it was too heavy to budge. The middle snowball seemed to be just as large, and Grayson insisted on lifting it into place while I pretended not to notice how easily his arms handled the weight.
“Teamwork.” He brushed the snow from his gloves.
“More like you doing all the heavy lifting while I supervise.”
“Just like the old days.” His eyes glinted. “Pretty sure you’ve always been bossy.”
“Pretty sure you’ve always liked it.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, but the grin that spread across his face made the heat rise to my cheeks faster than the cold could chase it away.
By the time we’d stacked the head ball onto the top and started fussing with some of the accessories Grayson had brought with him, Quinn had already declared it a suitable effort.
“It actually looks like a snowman,” she said. “Some of these just look like piles of laundry. And ours…” She pointed to where her dad and Delaney were putting the finishing touches on their snowman. “Can’t decide between books and brews.” She threw up her hands in defeat. “I give up.”
“Looks pretty perfect for your family,” Grayson said. “You guys definitely have a theme.”
“What’s your theme?” Quinn asked.
I looked at Grayson. “Do we have a theme?”
“Sure do.” His lips quirked up in a grin as he reached into his bag and pulled out an apron and a whisk.
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “But what about you? It should represent you, too.”
He shook his head. “Not this year. This one is about you.”
Not this year.
Would there be other years?
Not if I took the job.
The thought sent a flash of sadness through me, but before I could let it sink in, a wet snowball landed between my shoulders.
I spun around to see Ethan with his mittened hand over his mouth. “Sorry, Harper. That was meant for?—”
A snowball flew past me and landed square in Ethan’s chest. Behind me, Grayson howled with laughter. “It’s on now, brother!”
“What the?—”
“Duck!” Grayson grabbed my hand and tugged me to take cover behind our snowman, just as another snowball flew past.
I laughed, crouched beside him as we both packed snow as fast as we could.
“On three,” he said, grinning like a kid. “One. Two. Three!”
