Page 17 of Wedlocked

“Dad,” Landry admonished.

“Stand back, ladybug. Let him earn his keep.”

“Win, give me a hand with these,” Max said, already unlocking the skis from the top of the Jeep.

Bro, of course I have my own skis. Ski god, remember?

“I’ll help,” Lars offered and started forward. I caught the hood of his jacket and pulled him back.

“I got it,” Wes said, moving past me to take them from Max.

Lars muttered some rapid-fire Swedish that I couldn’t keep up with and therefore had no hope of understanding, but even so, I knew it was likely an insult for stopping him.

Normally, I would laugh because his insults were pretty adorable, but, bro, I was not in the laughing mood.

“Lars.”

He stiffened but glared at me defiantly. “Win.”

“Normally, I love getting under your skin and getting you all riled up,” I told him, tugging him around the back of the Jeep to crowd him up against the spare on the back. “But I wasn’t even trying, so that means I did something wrong.”

The annoyance on Lars’s face cleared, and a flash of vulnerability shot through his eyes. Quickly, he glanced away and then back. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

His eyes shot up. “I’m not.”

I caught his chin, my fingers warm against his cool jawline. Leaning in, I kept my voice gentle. “Tell me, angel.”

His shoulders slumped. “I’m just nervous is all.”

I searched his stare. “Nervous about what?”

He glanced away. “I’m not as good of a skier as you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hang back with me. I don’t want to slow you down.”

I made a sound. “Is that all?” I asked, suspicious.

“What else would there be?” He challenged.

He was right. I mean, everything was perfect back at the chalet. He didn’t start acting off until we were heading out to ski.

“It doesn’t matter, sweetheart,” I told him. “We’re just here to have a good time, okay?”

He nodded.

“Come on!” Rush called from ahead. Everyone was already on their way to the rental and ski pass center.

“Coming!” Lars called back and started forward.

I caught his hand, tangling ours together as we followed the group. “You know I mean that, right, angel?”

“I know,” he replied quietly. “I want to have a good time too.”

After that, we caught up to the others, and the conversation was over.

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