Page 27 of The Mistletoe Makeover

“Then go back inside,” he says. “Nobody’s forcing you to be out here.”

As if I can.Jace is challenging me to a snowball fight. And it’s too tempting to put him in his place.

“But what if I stay?”

He opens his arms wide, like he’s offering to be my target practice. “Hit me with your best shot,” he invites. “Except you probably throw like a girl.”

It’s the last straw before my restraint crumbles like a house of cards.

I throw the snowball as hard as I can, and it sails through the air, pelting Jace in his stomach. For a fleeting moment, victory swells in my chest... until Jace looks up at me with a wicked grin.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he says.

This time, he isn’t kidding.

“Oh, shoot,” I mutter and do the only thing I can think of.I run.

Jace immediately launches a round of snowballs that pelt me across my back, shoulders, and legs. While I scramble to collect more snow, Jace throws another, and I’m forced to sidestep awkwardly in my stupid boots, tripping and falling into a pile of snow.

So this is how it ends.

I cover my head with my hands, waiting for Jace to use my fall to his advantage.

I’m expecting Jace to throw a half dozen painful snowballs at me. Instead, nothing happens.

I crack open one eye.

Jace kneels next to me, gently pulling my arms away from my face, cradling my head. “You okay?” he says, breathing hard, a crease lining his forehead.

Is Jace concerned about me? Or is this just a prank?

I blink once, expecting him to pull out a hidden snowball and drop it down the back of my sweater. Instead, his eyes skate over my face in concern. That shakes me more than the fall did.

“Um, yeah.” There’s no way he’s concerned about my well-being. “Just wet and cold.”

His eyes fall to my sweater, which is covered in melting snow.

“For what it’s worth, you’re not bad at snowball fights,” he says, his dimple deepening, making my heart trip.

His eyes catch mine, and our gazes hold a few seconds too long, my heart skittering across my chest like a car sliding on ice. I sit up, uncomfortable with the weird way my heart is erratically bucking against my ribs.

“You forgot I have two brothers who play hockey. When I play with them, there is no mercy.”

He holds out a hand to help me stand, and this time, I don’t hesitate to take it, even though it’s like touching a fallen wire.Is he trying to act like a gentleman and mess with my emotions?Because this isn’t the old Jace who would make a snarky joke about me falling in my boots. Mr. Smolder is making everything inside me go up in flames.

I look at my sweater so he doesn’t see my face flush. “I probably should go inside and change,” I say, before realizing I don’t have any clothes to change into. I was stupid enough to wear these dress boots, and now I’m kicking myself for running outside without a coat.

It’s not until we return to our room that I notice his cheeks are tinged pink from the cold. He rubs his hands together, blowing on them to warm them up.

“I could use a hot shower,” he says, shutting the door behind us.

The finality of that door slam is jarring.I’m alone with Jace.Not only do I have to stay in the same room, but I have to do everything else with him nearby too. Except for my friends, my world is pretty small. I don’t even like using public restrooms.

“Do you want to go first?” he asks casually. This setup doesn’t seem to bother him at all, while I’m a nervous wreck.

“I guess,” I say. “But I don’t have dry clothes.”

“Is there a blow-dryer?”

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