Page 29 of A Cozy Holiday
He pats the seat, and I swing my leg over the cold leather, heart hammering. He climbs up behind me, chest hot against my back, and when his arms coil around me to grip the handlebars, the contact sparks a ridiculous jolt through me that my brain insists is inappropriate. He turns on the engine, and the snowmobile vibrates beneath me.
“I’ll go slow,” he murmurs into my ear, and my thighs clench involuntarily.
Jamie skillfully navigates us across the property just as the sun crests over the horizon, spilling buttery gold and soft peach across the sky. The snow and trees sparkle like everything has been dusted with huge flecks of sugar.
“Have you ever driven on a lake?” he yells over the engine.
I glance around at the pristine landscape, spotting a wide, flat stretch of ice. Anxiety churns in my gut. “No. Is that even safe?”
“Should be.”
Before I can react, we glide onto the frozen surface. I gasp, gripping his forearms as the snowmobile skids over the ice. “Oh my god, Jamie! Slow down!”
He eases the throttle until the snowmobile halts. Jamie dismounts behind me, gloved hands resting on my shoulders. I’m quivering, breath coming in quick bursts. I don’t do things like this.
“Come on,” he says, removing his helmet and shaking out his dark brown hair.
I hesitate, looking down. “Are we about to fall through?”
He digs his boots into the snow, revealing the bright blue ice underneath. “I already took the girls out here for Thanksgiving. Trust me. It’s safe. Freezes over every November.”
“Are you about to get me killed?”
“You’ll be fine, Doc.” He winks, gloved hand extending toward me. “Come on. The herd’s just over that hill. They’ll scatter if they hear the motor.”
My heart skips as I reach for his hand. “If I fall through this ice—”
“You won’t. I promise.”
He lifts the helmet from my head and places it on the seat but doesn’t drop my hand. I take a tentative step forward.
“You got a strong grip.” Jamie chuckles.
“If I fall, I’m taking you with me.”
“Don’t people in the city pay hundreds of dollars for cold plunges?”
“Not me.” I’m shuffling my feet at a snail’s pace. I can’t get the image of plunging through the ice out of my head, but his easy confidence is strangely comforting. “So, what do the reindeer eat out here?” I ask, distracting myself.
“Some of them come back to the barn for meals, but they love to eat moss. Any type of moss that grows on the tree trunks. In the spring, they eat berries.”
We reach the edge of the lake, and I sprint off and onto the firmer snow, letting out a triumphant laugh. I spin around to face him.
“Keep away from—” Before he finishes his warning, I step back and sink waist-deep into a drift of snow.
“You gotta be kidding me!”
Jamie chuckles.“You and snow don’t really mix, do you?”
I run my hands over my face, pushing back my hair. “I swear to God, I’m buying a portable heater and melting all the fucking snow in this state.”
“In all of Maine?”
“Yes!” I scream, trying to pull myself out, but I only sink deeper. “A little help?”
Jamie hurries toward me and pulls me up. But as he does, he loses his balance and falls backward into the snow, taking me along with him. I tumble forward and land squarely on top of him.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. My limbs are frozen in the most uncomfortable—and dizzying—way while his hands grip my waist solidly. I press up, and my eyes flick over him. This close, his peppermint breath skims against my cheek, and I can see his crooked bottom tooth and the curve of his jaw beneath the shadow of stubble.
