Page 21 of Christmas in Vines

“No, we’re not doing that either now; let’s get rolling,” I ordered.

Building a snowman with Tyler was more fun than I’d expected. Tyler seemed to have little coordination in rolling the base…or he was being clumsy and squashing all of them on purpose. Even though the evening air was chilly, the exertion from rolling the huge snowballs and laughing at Tyler’s misshaped lumps left me plenty warm beneath the thick sweater and thermal.

“This one should do,” I sat back on my haunches, gazing at the big ball of snow. “If you squash this one, I will slap you silly.”

He lurched toward the ball, but I tackled him football style, and we went down in a pile of legs, arms and snow. We tumbled around, with him trying to fight me off—playfully—while I smushed snow into his face.

“Don’t. Mess. With. My. Snowman,” I warned him.

“Fine, fine, I give up,” Tyler held up his hands. “I will not touch your balls.”

A laugh punched itself out of my belly as I straddled him. “My balls, eh?”

“Your big, snowy, mushy balls,” Tyler replied. His beanie had slipped a little, so his hair was flopping out into his eyes, and I knew the back of his head must be wet.

His eyes came up to meet mine again. The playfulness was gone this time, and the lust was back, making his eyes stormy and fierce. I swallowed. How was it possible for me to be this loopy for someone after only meeting them less than twelve days ago? I felt as if I had cartoon hearts floating out of my eyes.

Clearing my throat, I shimmied away from him but jammed a finger into his face. “My balls, no touching.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n,” he replied.

We managed to get the middle part on, and I trusted Tyler to get the head on while I hunted for sticks and whatever I could use for eyes and a nose. I went back to see Tyler had wrapped a frayed scarf around the snowman’s neck. Where had he gotten that?

I stood aside as he gazed, rather wistfully, at the half-finished snowman before he pivoted and looked at kids running around, stacking balls on top of each other with their parents or a guardian close by.

My heart hurt a little.

Was this what he’d missed as a kid?

I came closer. “Is the head on yet?”

“Yep,” he grinned. “Just waiting for the eyes.”

While he stuck the walnut shells in for eyes and tiny pebbles for a shaky smile, I stuck the arms on. Stepping back, we surveyed our handiwork. “Not bad,” he mentioned.

“It’s missing a nose,” I pointed out.

“We can—” he snapped a part of the left hand off and jammed the stick in the middle of the face. “—do this.”

While he beamed with pride and looked around, I watched with horror as the big, balled head started to slip. “Tyler!”

His head snapped to it while I lurched to it, but he yanked me back, and I stood still as the head tumbled off and became a pile of mush on the ground. We both looked at the headless snowman with a scarf wound on its bare shoulders.

Tyler tilted his head. “There’s something… Nightmare on Elm Street about it.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I replied. “Is that even the right movie?”

He shrugged while his hand slipped down my spine and rested on the small of my back. “I pulled that out of my ass. I’m not a horror film kind of guy. Give me an action flick, and I’m good to go.”

“Me too,” I replied. “I hate romance movies.”

His head craned to me. “What? You…you don’t like romance movies? Are you even a girl?”

I elbowed him. “You touched my lady parts. What do you think?”

“Very tight, shapely, moist—”

“Oh my god.” I turned away from him in horrified mortification.

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