Page 58 of Christmas Wishes

Keaton stood in front of the closed garage door with his feet shoulder-width apart and an agile bend in his knees. He patted his chest like he was preparing for a tackle. “Do it. Hit me.”

“Just to confirm, I have your consent?”

Keaton rolled his perfectly decorated eyes. He’d spent nearly an hour applying makeup—mostly Evie’s products—in preparation. I wasn’t sure how his idea would turn out, but he was finally working on his content, so I would do anything he needed.

He gestured to his phone propped on a tripod nearby. “My consent is recorded. Aim for my face. Not too hard.”

“Obviously,” I said drily.

“Wait! I should do an intro, so I have more footage to work with for the final edit.” He aimed his charming smile at his phone. “I’m in Juniper Ridge, Arizona. You might have noticed the snow.” He bent over and scooped snow from where I’d piled it while shoveling, then let it fall through his gloved fingers.

“While here on vacation, I found some really promising cosmetics by a local small business called Foxglove Cosmetics. The creator is a woman named Evie Chen. You’d adore her. She runs a cleaning company by day and makes gorgeous makeup in her spare time. Check out these colors.” He glanced at me. “I’ll edit some close-up footage in.”

Keaton seamlessly turned back to his phone. “As we all know, makeup can look amazing in the packaging and even on our skin after initial application, but there are a million threats out there to our painted faces throughout our days. I decided to take advantage of the snow to find out if Foxglove could withstand a snowball fight. This is a very scientific process.” He winked. “My assistant will lob a few snowballs at my face, and I’ll show you the results.”

Keaton turned to me again and nodded.

I shook my head, chuckling silently, as I took aim. His lips curved into a wide grin, and we held each other’s stare for a long, hypnotizing moment. When I’d decided to continue Nico’s Airbnb business, I never would’ve expected to be throwing snowballs at a guest’s face. I couldn’t imagine doing this for anyone but him. I was starting to realize there were a lot of things I’d do for that man.

I rolled my shoulders and made a show of winding up the throw, which sent Keaton into a fit of laughter.

“You missed your calling with the MLB.”

“Don’t I know it.” I did my best to throw it easy, and I’d kept the snow loosely packed so it didn’t hurt. It splatted in the middle of his face and crumbled to the ground, with snow sticking to his nose, lips, and eyelashes.

Keaton stood, momentarily stunned, then busted out in a fit of giggles. “Again!”

I complied and hit him with three more snowballs until he wiped his face, laughing while looking into the camera. He walked over and did a close-up. “Here’s the first look. No immediate drips or smudges, but I was careful wiping off the snow. Well, as much as I could in these comically large gloves.” He held his hands in front of his face and showed off his puffy fingers.

Keaton bent over and grabbed a lump of snow. I expected him to shove it in his face or start talking about what snow and water did to makeup, but he quickly patted it down and then turned his head in my direction. His grin was borderline evil as he lobbed the snowball at me with a direct hit in the middle of my chest.

“Oh, you’re so going to get it.” I chased him around the yard as he dodged me and used trees as shields while forming more snowballs. He was much smaller and quicker than me, but I was a hell of a lot faster at making snowballs.

By the time I caught him by the waist, his jacket was more white than blue. I tackled him into the pile of snow he’d pulled from minutes ago. He erupted into giggles as I kissed the rest of the snow off his face.

“That should be another test.”

He wrapped his arm around my back and melted into me as our body heat threatened to thaw the snow. “How makeup holds up after sex?”

“If you take your brand to OnlyFans, it’s an idea.”

He laughed and kissed me. We got lost in each other, kissing and touching, until he shivered underneath me.

“Let’s get you inside.” I pulled back and stared at his red-nosed, flushed-cheeked, smiling face. Snowflakes clung to his long lashes.

He made a disgruntled noise when I pulled away. “Hot shower?” he asked hopefully.

“You get your phone. I’ll start the water.” I helped him to his feet and spent extra attention brushing the snow off his ass.

He gave me a quick kiss. “Thanks for your help.” Before he moved toward his phone, he paused and turned back to me with a thoughtful, hesitant expression. “Riggs? Do you think you’d have time this week to go skiing with me?”

That was the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth. “Are you sure?” When I’d idly suggested it before, it was clear skiing was a sensitive subject.

“Maybe snow isn’t as awful as I thought. I trust you to keep me safe.”

I tugged his askew hat down to cover his ears. “I’d love to.” I’d rearrange any appointments I needed to, get up in the middle of the night—whatever it took.

I was still smiling by the time I’d gotten inside the sliding glass door attached to the kitchen and shed my wet gear. As I walked toward the bathroom to start the shower, my phone began ringing from the kitchen island. I bowed my head. Probably someone with an emergency call.

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