Page 138 of Lethal Threat
A little choked sound leaves her throat.
“That skirt has my mind in one place…”
She pushes back from me. “You’re bad. Now, you better do what your mother asked, or she’s going to withhold dessert from you.”
My mouth starts to water. “That’s okay. I don’t need it if I’ve got you.”
Sierra’s eyes go wide. “Cole…”
A knock on the front door gives her a reprieve. When I swing the door back, Simona’s standing there with Marshall and Roark lording over her shoulder.
“Sprite!” I say with a smirk.
She groans and gives me a death glare. “Not you too. I hate that name.”
“But it fits so well. Merry Christmas.”
Grumbling, Simona steps into my open arms for a hug. “Thanks for having us. They told me I have to say that.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Whatever,” she mutters, but her tone is light.
Marshall shakes my hand. Then Roark does too. “Come on in, guys. Mom’s going to serve dessert soon, then we can hang out in the library and talk.”
“Dessert?” Simona brightens. “Okay, maybe I don’t hate you.”
I laugh as I shake my head. “I didn’t peg you for an easy bribe.”
“I’m a softie at Christmas, what can I say.”
Sierra grabs Simona’s hand. “Come with me. Let me show you what’s in the kitchen.”
They walk away, chattering about something.
I shrug at the men. “Well, you guys want to hang out here with the kids, or go have some spiced rum?—”
“I’m thinking about getting in on that snowball battle,” Marshall says with a devilish grin.
I know my eyes light up. “Let me grab my coat.”
Which I have to do without Nolene seeing me.
Marshall wasn’t kidding. Holy smokes. Two fortifications constructed from snow sit on either side of the field by the barn. Kids are screaming. My brothers are pelting each other. Bryan is in the middle of the field dodging incoming missiles.
I run right into the middle of it all with a war cry. Roark and Marshall run alongside me, hurling snow at my brothers. Yes! This is what a white Christmas is about.
For the next ten minutes, it’s an all out snowball war.
I laugh and tackle my brother Caleb into a snowbank. He yells when I stuff a wad of snow down his coat.
Suddenly, he stills. “Oh! Shhh… do you hear that?”
I lift my head and squint through the snow caked in my eyes. The bell on the porch is being furiously rung by one angry woman. “Uh oh.”
A guilty expression crosses his face. “Mom’s pissed. She only rings the bell like that when there’s hell to pay.”
I roll off of him and furiously brush snow off my jacket. “I was supposed to call you guys in the house about twenty minutes ago.”
