Page 13 of Snow One Like You

“What?”

“Most parents fear having to bail their kids out. That’s not how it goes in my family.”

“You aren’t making sense.”

“I will shortly,” I assure him, adding that I’m on my way. Then I quickly hang up, not wanting to hear more. I knew we had an end date; I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

**Calvin**

“She wanted to be what now?” I ask, needing clarification. I mean, it’s not every day you discover that the woman you’re falling for,havefallen for, wanted to be…

“A whale,” her mom confirms.

“It begs another question.”

“Why?” Her dad supplies with a grin. He looks formidable, but he’s actually a teddy bear. Complete with the bone crushing hug. Unless that’s something he reserves specifically for the men interested in his daughter? A possibility that has me emitting a growl worthy of the animal I just compared him to at the thought of other guys with my Snow.

Sunny picks up the memory. “Rain’s favorite saying when they were both younger,” she winks at him, “was that something was or would be ‘a whale of a good time.’” She giggles. “My little Snowflake decided that she wanted to be a whale since they have so much fun.”

“Snowflake?” I jump on that. “She definitely is one of a kind,” I concur, curious when they shake their head no.

“That’s not why,” Sunny corrects me. “My girl,” Rain glares at her, and she quickly back pedals, “our girl,” her husband nods, appeased. “Our girl is cool as a cucumber. She keeps it frosty, as I like to say.”

“Where are they?” In unison, the three of us swivel that direction in time to see Snow, said cucumber, rushing in, frantic as she searches for us. We wave, letting her know where she can find us, and she freezes mid-step, replete with mouth hanging open in shock. “You’re here willingly?” She whispers to them, though her voice carries in what we call the bullpen.

“Why else would they be here?” I’m clearly missing something.

“You said they were at the station.”

“And they are.”

“We wanted to meet your new beau,” Rain explains.

“The father to our future grandchildren,” Sunny tacks on.

Snow sputters at that while I cross my arms over my chest, smugly I might add. I have no problem fulfilling that prophecy. She recovers quickly. “You made it sound…”

“Did I, though?”

“Uhhh,” she begins, no doubt attempting to recall our conversation.

“You hung up on me before I could say why they were here,” I remind her.

“Snow Marigold Dey,” Sunny scolds her.

“We taught you better than that,” Rain adds, shaking his head as if disappointed in her lack of manners. And now I feel bad for getting her in trouble.

“I didn’t realize she’d assume you were here for another reason,” I throw out there, still unsure why she did, yet feeling the need to defend my woman. Which Sunny seems to like.

“Aww, he’s standing up for her.”

“Isn’t that sweet?”

“Very,” Nate chimes in.

“Where did you come from?” I demand to know. He’d gone out, chasing down a lead for a case of ours as I was otherwise occupied, so I kept the Deys at my desk instead of taking them to an interview room.

“I work here,” he answers slowly, enunciating each letter as if I’m an idiot. “Might want to try it sometime,” Nate says, tipping his head toward my visitors, “or better yet, invite me to the party.” Shifting to face Sunny, he holds his hand out. “I’m Nathan Moretti. Nate, to my friends,” he tells her with a wink.

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