Page 35 of Christmas in Vines

ChapterEleven

Cole

We found ourselves at the edge of a pond, participating in a sing-along. There were a few bonfires going on and I took in the idyllic scene of families roasting marshmallows around the crackling fire, while three guys were playing “Silent Night” on their guitars.

My back was to an old tree and Willow was sitting between my legs, resting on my chest with my arms around her. This was surprisingly… mellow for what I had expected.

I kissed her ear. “I thought tonight would be much different.”

Willow twisted to look at me. “What did you think would happen? A survival game where you had to scale a mountain, make weapons out of your shoelace and hunt for your own food with a single match?”

Huffing out a laugh, I replied, “More like you forcing me to go ice skating.”

A wicked grin took her lips. “You spoke too soon.”

“Oh God,” I groaned and dropped my head to her shoulder. “Why do you do this to me? You saw me on that ladder with the tree, you know my balance is shit.”

“You’ll get better,” she said evilly. “Plus, I’ll be right there with you and I’m a great teacher.”

“If I break my butt, I’m blaming you,” I whispered.

“It’s a shame,” she smiled up at me. “It’s a pretty butt too.”

I nosed the soft hairs at her temple. “And where is this going to happen?"

She sunk down a little to tilt her head up and gave me the most innocent smile I’d ever seen. “In about twenty minutes or so.”

Instantly, my eyes flew to the pond. “No…”

“Yes.”

“Fuck no.”

Willow turned in my arms and looped her arms around my neck. “We’re doing this, okay,sweetie?”

I winced. “I thought nicknames were off the table,lovebug.”

“I’m putting that on the table because I want to sweet-talk you into going skiing too,” Willow smiled.

“No,” I eyed her. “If I’m going to get my ass broken on a flat surface, there is no way in hell I’d do that on ahill. Do you want me to break my neck, missy!”

She giggled and began dropping closed-mouth kisses on my face, on my jaw, my nose, above my eyes, my ear, that tiny scar on my temple—snickering between kisses. I wanted to laugh but I forced my face to stay stoic.

Willow pulled away. “Try not to laugh all you want; I can see the humor dancing in your eyes. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Is that right?” I dug my fingers into her sides and tickled her, loving the feel of her squirming on my lap and her muffled giggles. “So, where are we going to skate, missy? If you dare say that lake with its paper-thin sheet of ice on it, I am leaving.”

“A—a—” she laughed, trying to bat my hands away. “A-a real s-s-skating r-ink in town.”

“A rink?” I narrowed my eyes, pulling my hands away to give her a moment to breathe. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

* * *

I did see it.

It was a decent rink, standard NHL size, I supposed. Large LED lights were on the ceiling, casting a shimmering glow across the ice, while colored pepper lights were taped on the walls. I looked around the rink at the families with their kids, a few single moms or dads, but the place… it was so suffused with happiness that I could practically breathe it in.

I watched a dad tie off a little girl’s skates and gently lift her to the ice; she gripped him in tender fear as she took her first wobbly steps. The dad looked so patient as he taught her to skate—that a lightbulb went off in my head.

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