Page 16 of Wedlocked

Wes poked his head between the front seats to glance at us. “I’ve got to warn you, Lars. My brother is a demon on the slopes.”

“Oh, fuck off, Wes.” I cackled. “You’re just mad you can’t keep up.”

“There’s a difference between keeping up and having a sense of self-preservation.” He smarted off.

“Which is something you normally have none of, so again… can’t keep up,” I ribbed.

“Bet,” Wes snapped.

I laughed. “Hey, Max, you got Wes’s bodyguard following him down the slopes today just in case?”

“Why would he need a bodyguard when I’m here?” Max replied.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Wes accused him.

“I am, Nemo, but he has a point.”

Wes gave us the finger.

“So being a demon on the slopes… does that mean you’re bad? Or good?” Lars asked.

Fuck, he was so precious. I loved the way his face creased a little when he was trying to understand American lingo.

“It means I’m so good it’s criminal,” I boasted. I mean, technically, it wasn’t bragging if it was true, right? “If only you’d been available to hit the slopes with me that day in Sweden when I went, you would have seen my skills then.”

“I couldn’t miss practice,” he said, turning to look out the window.

A feeling of unease crawled over the back of my neck. I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

The ski lodge came into view, a large two-story wooden structure surrounded by blankets of thick white snow. People milled about everywhere, most dressed for skiing with bright-colored snow pants, boots, and coordinating jackets. Some people were carrying snowboards, others skis. A few had inflated tubes for sledding. It was busy, as we knew it would be because it was winter break, but it only added a bit of excitement to the air.

Max pulled the Jeep into a space near Coach’s Tahoe and Arsen’s G wagon, and we all piled out.

Bodhi immediately climbed on the tire of the Tahoe, practically turning into a spider monkey to get to the roof rack packed with equipment.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Goldilocks?” Coach bellowed, blowing the whistle around his neck.

“If Coach can keep his whistle out, so can you,” Ryan told Rory.

“Get down from there,” Coach demanded, grabbing Bodhi by the back of his jacket to pull him off the SUV. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Bodhi dropped into Coach’s arms, making him grunt. “I told you to be careful,” he scolded.

“I’m more than capable of getting the skis down,” Bodhi argued.

Coach shook his head. “Rush! Get the skis down.”

“So he can’t get hurt, but I can?” Rush bitched. “I feel the love.Dad.”

“I told you not to call me that until my daughter has a ring on her finger.”

“Not everyone can be husband material like me,” Kruger put in.

They ignored him.

“But you said everyone could call you Emmett for the week. So I figured that meant I could call you dad.”

“No. Now get the skis.”

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