Page 65 of Lucky In Love

“I always thought being an athlete was your whole world,” she admits, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It's a big part of it, but there's more to me than just that,” I say, feeling a sense of relief in sharing this part of myself.

We occasionally share glances that speak volumes. I wash the dishes while Lissy dries, our movements synchronized in an easy dance.

The storm seems to have taken a backseat to the new understanding blossoming between us.

“I like this side of you,” she says, a playful tone in her voice.

“You're not so bad yourself,” I tease back, and we both laugh, the sound echoing warmly in the cabin.

I can't help but feel a sense of contentment. The barriers between us have started to crumble, revealing the genuine connection underneath. Lissy looks up from below her lashes, her eyes meeting mine, and in that moment, I feel something shift inside me.

She stretches on her tip toes, and presses a gentle kiss to my scruffy chin. Not having the opportunity to shave has been rough, but I don’t think she minds.

A realization that this unexpected time together has changed us both. We may have been trapped by the storm, but in the process, we've found something unexpected and real.

Chapter 9

Lissy

I'm making breakfast, the sizzle of the canned ham mixing with the crackling fire. Erik is helping, and our movements around the small kitchen are synchronized, a dance we've mastered over the past few days.

“You know, I never took you for someone who could cook,” he teases, and I playfully swat his arm.

As we eat, the conversation flows easily, filled with shared glances. I feel a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with the fire.

“I didn't expect this,” I confess, “being stuck here with you, it's been... nice.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “More than nice,” he replies softly.

After breakfast, we stand at the window, watching the snowfall all but stop. His hand brushes against mine, sending a shiver up my spine. I look up at him, and our eyes lock. There's a question in his gaze, one I'm not sure I'm ready to answer.

The morning light filters through the windows, casting a soft glow over the cabin. Erik and I move to clean up after breakfast, our hands brushing occasionally, each touch sending a thrill through me. I find myself stealing glances at him, admiring the way his hair catches the light, the easy smile that seems to have become more frequent.

"So, what should we do today?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I guess we could start by shoveling some of that snow," I suggest, half-joking.

He chuckles, nodding in agreement.

“The shovels should be right outside the door. Did you bring snow pants or anything?” he asks.

“Bree told me to pack for sledding, and ice fishing. So I do have winter gear. It’s not all just cashmere sweaters and leggings in those bags.”

Bundled up in our coats, we tackle the snow outside, our breaths visible in the cold air. Working side by side, we clear a path, the physical activity a welcome change.

I take a pile of snow between my hands and squish and squash until I have a massive packed snow ball. I draw my arm back and release.

I hit him square in the middle of his broad back. He spins around on his heel so quickly I don’t even have time to duck.

His returned fire hits me directly in my chest.

“Ow.” I rub my gloved hand over the spot that just took a good hit.

Erik’s laughter rings in the air, genuine and infectious. I can't help but join in, the sound of our mirth mingling with the crisp winter air.

The simple act of playing in the snow, something so childlike and pure, brings us even closer.

We return to the warmth of the cabin, cheeks flushed from the cold. Stripping down from our overly bundled winter gear.

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