Page 49 of Sweet Doe
"Oh, you think that's funny?" he says, bending down to scoop up his own ammunition. "We’ll see how funny you think this is."
I shriek and duck behind a pine tree just as his snowball whizzes past my head. The bark is rough against my palms as I press my back to the trunk, trying to catch my breath between giggles.
It's been two weeks since New Year's Eve. Two weeks since I kissed him and felt a shift between us. Two weeks of mornings that start with coffee brought to bed and evenings that end by the fireplace.
Two weeks of normalcy when I know it shouldn’t feel like that.
But right now, with snow melting on my cheeks and laughter bubbling up from deep in my chest, I can't bring myself to care.
"I know you're back there," Asher calls out, his voice full of mischief. "You can't hide forever."
"Watch me," I call back, already packing another snowball. The snow is perfect for this—wet enough to hold together but light enough not to sting when it hits. "I've got all day."
"So do I, sweet doe. So do I."
The pet name sends a flutter through my chest.
God, I'm so fucked up.
I peek around the tree trunk, looking for an opening, and spot him crouched behind a fallen log about twenty feet away. His dark hair is dusted with snow, and there's color in his cheeks from the cold air. He looks younger like this, playful enough to forget what he’s done.
I push the thought away. Not today. Today I'm allowed to just be here, in this moment, playing in the snow with a man who looks at me like I hung the moon.
I dart out from behind the tree, launching my snowball in his direction before diving for cover behind a boulder. I hear his curse of surprise, followed by his laughter, and know I hit my target.
"Nice shot," he admits. "But you're going to pay for that."
"You'll have to catch me first!"
I take off running through the snow, my boots sinking with each step but my legs carrying me forward with giddy momentum. Behind me, I can hear him, his longer strides eating up the distance between us.
The clearing opens up ahead, a flat expanse of pristine white surrounded by towering evergreens. It's beautiful here, like something from a fairy tale. The kind of place where anything seems possible.
A snowball catches me between the shoulder blades, and I stumble forward with a yelp.
"Got you," Asher shouts, triumphant.
I spin around to face him, already packing another snowball. "Lucky shot."
"Skill," he corrects, advancing on me with a predatory look on his face. "Years of practice."
"Practice? Were you some kind of snow warrior as a child?"
The question is meant to be teasing, but something shifts in his expression. The playfulness dims.
"Something like that," he says quietly.
I want to ask more, but before I can form the words, he's launching himself at me with a playful growl.
We go down in a tangle of laughter, rolling in the snow until I'm breathless and dizzy. When we finally come to a stop, I'm pinned beneath him, his hands braced on either side of my head, his eyes bright and happy.
"Do you surrender?" he asks, his voice low and rough as his eyes roam my face.
"Never," I breathe, grinning from ear to ear.
"No?" His head dips lower, until his breath warms my lips. "What if I make it worth your while?"
Before I can ask what he means, his mouth is on mine,claimingme.
