I’m way over my head here, so I do the only sensible thing.
I run.
Snow flies up around me as I sprint toward the trees. Mylungs burn. My heart is a fist pounding against my ribs. But I don’t get far.
I dodge a stunning birch, her long limbs graceful and majestic, ducking under a thick branch heavily laden with snow. I yelp when I slip and tumble because I know it’s over now. I can hear him heavy and fast behind me.
He tackles me into the drift with terrifying precision. I land with a gasp, my back hitting the powder, cold slicing through my layers. He’s on top of me in a blink, his knee between mine, one gloved hand beside my head, the other catching my wrist.
I’m breathless, frozen… trapped. Just like the first time.
He’s staring down at me, his face unreadable. Snow clings to his lashes, and his cheeks are flushed. His mouth?—
God, his mouth.
He kisses the tip of my nose. “I could kiss yer mouth, and we’d freeze together. They’d find us like that, frozen together forever.”
“A peaceful way to die?” I suggest with a giggle.
He bends his mouth to my cheek and gives me a gentle peck before he lets me up.
“Give up, little Emma?” he asks. He has to tack on thatlittle,knowing full well he’s twice my size, especially when we’re like this. “I’ll remember that.”
My belly flips.
I shake my head, trembling with something that isn’t just cold.
He leans closer. His nose brushes mine. Then he reaches up slowly and pulls my hat down over my eyes, just like before.
Darkness.
I shriek and laugh, twisting under him. But his weight lifts, and he’s already gone. I hear his footsteps crunching away.
When I sit up and push the hat back, he’s standing a few yards away, watching me with that look that turns my bones to ash.
I remember it so vividly.
And just like that, I’m eighteen. Snow in my boots. That same stupid laugh. I’d hit him with a snowball back then too. He’d chased me down, pinned me in the exact same way. Only back then, I didn’t have the words for the way my stomach flipped under his weight. The way my breath caught when he pulled my hat down and vanished.
He left me aching.
Not this time.
“Is that a cardinal?” I ask, and he actually falls for it. When he’s looking away, I twist, grab a handful of snow, and throw it right in his face.
“You little?—”
But I’m already as far from him as I can run.
This time, when he catches me, he lifts me straight up in the air, snow gear, boots, and all.
“We could build a snowman?” I suggest helpfully as he carries me, princess-style, back toward the house.
“You’ll freeze to death with your games, lass,” he says, his eyes twinkling at me. “And it’s time I warm you up.”
When he slides me down his body, my legs are shaking. My throat is tight. My heart still doesn’t know if it wants to run or kneel.
Inside, he peels the coat from my shoulders and untangles my scarf. His hands are warm, even through the gloves.