Page 14 of Yours to Ho Ho Hold
I use my hand to shield the glare from my eyes as I watch him struggle with the small, flimsy sled. It’s midday, and the sun’s shining brightly, making the freezing temperature a little more tolerable. Between that and the physical activity of walking up this hill for the last hour, I’m almost warm enough to shed my thick, wool coat … but not quite.
“You said to count to three, but you went on three, and everyone knows it’s one, two,three, go, not one, two,go.”
I pull off my mitten and slide my thumb and pointer finger together mockingly.
He slaps my hand away. “Don’t play your tiny violin for me. I was robbed, and I want justice.” He lunges toward me and lifts me over his shoulder as I kick my legs and pound my fists against his ass … and what a firm ass it is. I almost forget I’m supposed to be protesting this.
Our laughter blends in with the children’s giggles as they squeal in excitement riding their sleds down the steep hill.
I don’t know what I expected, but Drew paying two kids one hundred bucks apiece for their cheap aluminum sleds was not it. I’ve beat him every single time, and he’s had some excuse or another. The truth is, he’s far too heavy for his child-sized sled. It’s creating too much friction and is slowing him down. But I’m having too much fun watching him try to beat me to spoil the fun.
I let out a squeal of laughter when his hands grip my waist to tickle me, and I kick my legs as hard as I can until he finally sets me down in a loose pile of snow.
“I don’t know how you’re doing it, but I know you’re cheating. I outweigh you by at least a hundred pounds. It doesn’t make sense.”
I shrug and bat my lashes, feigning ignorance. “Someone once told me you’d find whatever you were looking for. Maybe you need to change your mindset?” I lean forward and whisper behind my hand, “Do you actually believe you’re a winner? Because I know I am.”
“Oh, so you’re using my wise advice against me now?” He brushes the snow from his jacket, pretending to be offended, but we both know he loves my smart mouth. It’s the only reason he’s still standing here looking at me with those piercing sea glass eyes after my confession this morning. I’m not exactly a catch in the responsible adult department.
He moves to sit beside me. “You know what? I don’t even care. I’d lose unfairly a million times over if it means I get to see you smile like this.” He touches an ice-cold finger to the tip of my nose, and I snap my teeth, making him pull his hand back. “Hey, no biting. Are you trying to tell me you’re hungry?”
I laugh as my stomach growls. “Actually, yes.”
He stands and offers me a hand. “Then let’s not waste time. I’d like to keep my fingers. I’ve been told they can be pretty useful.”
I slap his chest with a mitten covered hand. “Now, don’t get too cocky. Just because you’re hot and built like a Greek god doesn’t mean anything. I think I remember all the shit-talking you did before you challenged me to that sledding race.”
He grabs my hand and holds it as his feet come to a stop. His eyes darken as he leans forward, and I reflexively take a step back. “Believe me, that was different. I may be delusionally confident about a lot of things, but my bedroom skills are definitely not one of them.”
I swallow a gulp and wet my lips as my eyes roam his beautiful, hard jawline, the intricate lines of the tattoos covering his neck and disappearing beneath his clothes. So many tattoos I’d love to trace with my tongue. There’s got to be a story there.
“Why do you have so many tattoos?”
At first, he looks taken aback by my sudden change of subject, but then he wraps his large hand over my mitten and keeps walking. “Mostly because I like them.”
“Mostly?”
He tilts his head side to side as he considers my question. “Yes, mostly. That’s how it started. I like the way they look, and I always felt the need to express myself. My younger brother, Jamie, and I grew up doing everything together. He was always more outgoing than me, and I sort of got lumped in with him. When people thought of me, they automatically thought of Jamie, too. I’m not complaining. I love my brother; he’s my best friend, but I wanted to be known for my own thing.”
“So, you covered yourself in tattoos? You couldn’t just dress differently or pick a different favorite band?”
He scratches his head and laughs. “Well, yeah, that, too. But I love the look of tattoos. I love the black lines and bright colors. I love that each one holds a memory in some way or another, like a map of my life I’ll always have with me.”
“So, why did you saymostly?”
He smiles and leans in. “If I tell you, do you promise to keep it a secret?”
“Of course.”
“My family thinks I’m living solely off the brand deals I get from weightlifting, and that’s partly true, but I’m also a tattoo model.”
“Wait, that’s a thing? Like, that’s a job people actually get paid for? Just existing with tattoos?”
He laughs. “Not exactly, but kind of. I’m more like a walking art portfolio.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course, you are.”
“And I recently started some gigs for a few big-time romance authors. That’s what I was doing yesterday.”
