Page 17 of Doctor Charmer

“Close.” She grins and squats, scooping up a handful of snow. “But no. A snowball fight.”

I regurgitate her line from this morning. “What are you, twelve?” Her brilliant beam pulls a reluctant smile on mine.

“Come on, Reggie. Live a little. Laugh a little.” She rises to her feet, holding the misshapen ball of snow in her hand.

She doesn’t wait for my agreement. The smack of snow against my chest is all the declaration I need. “You’re going to regret that,” I say, bending to scoop up a handful of the white stuff.

I hear the crunch of her boots across the snow as she takes off, disappearing behind a bench.

“You talk a good game, Doctor.” Her giggles echo off the frozen buildings surrounding the outdoor area. I bend and form a ball of snow, something that I can’t believe I’m doing.

“All talk is your specialty,” I remind her of her words. “Where are you?”

I stand and approach the bench where I lost sight of her. A blur of movement to my right causes me to turn. Too late. I’m bombarded with three rapid-fire balls of snow. The last one hits me right on the forehead.

I lower my head and wipe the snow from my face. The cold nips at my nose, and I can’t believe I’m enjoying this.

“Incoming.” Her warning arrives too late for me to react. A pair of arms wrap around my waist, knocking me to the ground. She literally has taken my breath away. She’s strong, a reminder that she’s an athlete. She lands on top of me, straddling me, a knee on each side of me on the cold ground. I raise my hands to protect my face as she scoops snow from the ground, shoveling it like a dog in the park burying their load.

“Never underestimate a tomboy,” she says, and I can’t picture a teenage version of her as a tomboy. A heartbreaker. A perpetual tease. But never a tomboy.

She thinks she’s won, but I won’t go down that easily. I roll on my shoulder, not stopping until I complete a full spin and continue again. She tries to hold on, but she’d never last the eight seconds at my rodeo. She plops on the icy ground next to me, and I roll on top of her.

Her giggles return, and I lift a hand stuffed with snow above her head. Her eyes look up at the impending doom, yet her giggles continue to play a soundtrack I won’t soon forget. A few flakes of snow fall from my hand, landing on her nose and cheek, and I pause.

Her gaze shifts to mine, her laughter disappearing. She gives me a look that can’t be mistaken for anything other than desire. Without looking away, I push my hand out to my side, shaking it as the snow falls from my hand. I wipe the last of the snow clinging to my glove on my side before lowering it toward her shimmering face. It hovers an inch away from cupping her beautiful face.

Her eyes snap to my empty hand, her look softening to anow what?expression.

I lower my hand, two fingers brushing away the errant snowflakes from her face. The air hums with electricity, the holiday lights sparkling in her eyes. Her breath hitches, and so does mine.

Her lip quivers, and I lower my gaze. She mouths the wordsDo it.

My heart pounds, the burst of adrenaline racing through my veins. I lean down. She doesn’t react when I brush my nose against hers. An Eskimo kiss.

The crinkles in the corner of her eyes spreads with victory. It would be so easy to let her win. And in this moment, I want her to. But I don’t.

“I win the first round,” I say, freezing in place, hovering above her.

Her lashes flutter. “You wish. I hit you with like ten snowballs. How many did you hit me with—oh, that’s right. None.”

I chuckle, still not moving and in no hurry to change positions. “And yet, I have you pinned to the ground.”

“Ha,” she scoffs. “And you think this isn’t exactly where I wanted you?”

“On top of you? I’ll take this view any day.”

Her laugh should have put me on alert. She presses up on her elbows, and I give her just enough space to move. She kicks her leg out at the trunk of the thin tree next to the walkway. She rolls her shoulders and presses her head into my chest seconds before we’re covered in snowfall from the branches of the tree.

I hunch, shouldering the brunt of the sudden white avalanche. Falling forward, I press my elbows to either side of her, putting her in a protective cocoon.

She laughs beneath me, and I realize what she’s done. She tackled me, hoping I’d roll in this direction. Her plan all along was to get me underneath the tree. She was always one step ahead of me.

Snow trickles in between my coat collar and my shirt, ice running down my back. I push up from the ground, looking like Frosty the Snowman. I stomp my feet, spin in a tight circle, and knock the snow off me.

Ivy remains curled in a ball on the ground, barely a speck of snow on her. She looks up with a twinkle in her eye. She’s loving this.

So am I.

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