Page 60 of Finally Forever
Finished with my bar, I toss the wrapper, zip up my coat, add a scarf, hat, and gloves, and exit through one of the back doors. A second-floor deck above protects the furniture from the new snow. Beyond the shelter, white blankets most of the patio, as well as the stone walls and benches. The temperature chills my cheeks and nose. If a breeze swept through, I’d be tempted to run inside. The trees and branches are motionless.
The patio doesn’t stretch the length of the house. I step onto snow, expecting it to be hard, but my foot sinks a little. Once I’m far enough out, I survey the house. The same stone on the front covers the back, continuing the Hansel and Gretel cottage feel, only cottages aren’t usually this grand.
Huge log-like posts support the second-floor deck or balcony, giving it Montana charm. The chalet where we stayed in Switzerland was modern and made of wood and glass, so different from this. I snap a few pictures with my phone, some to remember the grandeur and details of the place, and others with a more artistic eye. I have pictures of every house we’ve stayed in. I love the unique styles and designers of different countries. Now, I can add Montana to my list of states I’ve visited, which consists of only one other state, Florida.
A motor sounds in the near distance. I watch for movement in the evergreens. The sound grows louder, and a snowmobile races across the backyard. A helmet and goggles cover the driver’s head, making it unclear if it’s Nathan or Sebastian.
I run in its direction as it curves around the side of the house toward the garages. I’ve barely gotten far before I’m panting and sweating in my clothes. Geez. Even Montana isn’t cold enough to keep me from sweating. I used to believe it was Florida that kept me damp twenty/four seven. Now, I know it’s just me. Either I’m out of shape or snow running takes a toll.
Another motor sounds. I swivel around to see a second snowmobile jet out from the trees. I don’t bother chasing after it. The driver glances my way and makes a wide turn, steering in my direction. He stops the snowmobile in front of me and waves for me to come over. I trudge to him. He flips up his goggles, revealing who it is. Sebastian.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Looking for you guys.” Damn, he looks good in full snowmobile gear. The all-black doesn’t hurt.
“Want a ride to the garage?”
“How about through the trees, then to the garage?”
His eyes brighten. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. We rode these in Switzerland. Only once, but I loved it.”
“Really?” His gaze drifts off with that look like he’s trying to remember.
Please remember.
After another moment, he shrugs and pats the back of his seat. “Climb on.”
Bummer for no memories returning but hurray that he’s invited me to go for a ride.
With his help, I climb on the back. He removes his helmet and hands it to me. “Put this on.”
“What about you?”
“My brain’s already damaged.” He winks.
I grimace. “Not funny.”
He removes sunglasses from his jacket pocket. “Here. You can wear these.”
“Thanks.” I slide his glasses onto my nose, worried they might fall off and I’ll lose them. But I don’t want him to give me his goggles. As the driver, he needs them more than I do.
“Hold on.” He lowers his goggles over his eyes and waits until my arms are firmly wrapped around his waist. Then we’re off with a jerk.
I lock my gloved fingers together and hold on for my life. Small hills send us dipping and bouncing on the seat. Each time we catch a little air, I laugh. Each time I laugh, Sebastian does it again. We go faster, racing through the woods, following a path they must have carved out earlier. Icy wind blasts my face and neck, even though my jacket is zipped up to my chin. I don’t want to stop, though. I’ll happily freeze just to stay in this moment with him.
We fly over more bumpy ground, both of us laughing—me harder than Sebastian. Soon, I’m out of breath, and my stomach muscles ache. As if he senses this, Sebastian turns around and drives less wildly toward the house.
I can’t fight my frown when he parks the snowmobile by the garages. Nathan’s vehicle sits there, but he’s nowhere in sight. Sebastian climbs off and helps me down.
I remove the helmet, set it on the seat, and hand Sebastian his sunglasses. “Thanks for these and for the ride. It was fun.”
He pockets the glasses and hangs his goggles on the steering wheel. “Just fun?”
“Super fun?”
“Super is better, but you laughed like you were having the time of your life.”
