Page 46 of Loud Unspoken Memories

She nods. “I remembereverythingabout that.”

The way she says it, I know we’re not talking about Abe anymore.

“He’s missing something,” she says.

“A hat?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Yes, it is. All snowmen have hats, Marti. You know, one of those top hat thingies.”

“Mmm,” she ponders. “There has to be something we can—”

Marti stops talking and tugs on her scarf until it loosens and comes free. She wraps the scarf around the snowman’s neck and ties it. When she pulls to secure it, she pulls too tightly and the head wobbles to one side.

We both watch as it falls off and slides down the body, tumbling to the ground in a messy clump, the carrot sticking up toward the sky. We look at each other and start laughing.Hard.

“Poor Abe,” she says. “We should say a few words.”

I roll my eyes.

“Abe was…” She chews that bottom lip. “Abe was a jolly happy soul,” she deadpans. “He didn’t have a corncob pipe, a button nose, or two eyes made of coal.Oh, right…coal,”she says looking somewhat like a lightbulb went off.

“Abe could be cold at times,” she continues somberly. “And he didn’t talk much. But for those ten glorious minutes that he graced the world with his presence, he brought joy and happiness to everyone around him. Sadly, though, he lost his head. The murderer is still at large, however, so if you see a frozen crazy lady without a scarf, please detain her for questioning.” She pats his back. “We’ll miss you, old pal.”

My body shakes with laughter. This girl. Thiswoman. She pulls emotions out of me without even trying.

When she’s done with the eulogy, she picks up what’s left of Abe’s head, packs it tightly, takes a few steps back and hurls the snowball at me.

I look down at the remnants of snow on my coat and the mushy pile at my feet. “That’s twice you did that.”

Her eyes narrow into a challenging glare. “What are you going to do about it?”

I punch my hand into Abe’s gut and come out with enough snow to make one hell of a snowball. Marti shrieks and races away, taking cover behind a tree before I launch it at her, narrowly missing her head and slamming into the tree trunk.

“You’re toast,” she says, leaning down to gather more snow.

I run behind my truck and take cover when she darts one at me. I sink down and begin on my arsenal, making snowball after snowball, piling them together for easy access. Peeking around the front bumper, I see that she’s busy doing the very same thing behind the tree.

Bex stands almost halfway between us, his head on a swivel, probably wondering what the hell we’re doing.

When I’ve made a dozen or so, I get up, carefully glancing out from behind my shelter. A snowball splats against the front window, missing me by a good yard. I grab one of mine and toss it at her. It misses by a mile.

You can do better than that, Montana.

I get another one before she has a chance to retaliate. Squinting at my target, I wind up like I’m Stryker Taylor from the Nighthawks, and launch it across the yard. It hits her square in the chest and she goes down.

My breath catches.Shit. I race out from behind the truck and sprint toward her, Bex at my side. But before I get there, she pops up and throws a snowball right at me, hitting me in my goddamn face.

She got me. She got me good. Still running, I wipe off the wet snow as best I can, and tackle her back to the ground.

“Ooof!” she exclaims when her back hits the snow and I land on top of her.

I brace myself with extended arms so she’s not bearing the full brunt of my weight. As I hover over her, snow that was lodged in my cap falls down onto her and slides off the side of her face. I shake my glove off and wipe her cheek.

She looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes as we breathe heavily onto each other, the clouds from our warm breath swirling around our heads. Her tongue darts out, laying moisture along her lips. Without a second thought, I lower myself until my mouth is on hers. Her lips are cold, soft, and inviting, opening immediately so I can plunge my tongue into her mouth.

Marti’s frozen hands work their way up under my scarf, her frigid fingers wrapping around the back of my neck, securing me against her. Despite everything around us being cold, warmth spreads through me as we make out like teenagers in a snow fort.

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