He froze, spine going rigid and shoulder tight.
I let out a laugh.
“Oops!” I called out, trying to decipher if I needed to get ready to run.
“Oops?” he echoed as he turned to face me. “You’re really gonna try to pull a fuckin’ ‘oops’ on that one?”
I laughed again and sent him a playful shrug.
“Oh, it’s on,” he said.
He moved fast. I was not expecting it. And when a ball of cold burst against my shoulder, spraying the left side of my face, I squealed with shock.
“Ahhh!” I yelled as I attempted to run and scoop up more snow, but only managed to fall on my ass. It didn’t matter. I still tossed a half-formed ball his way. Of course he was able to dodge it. “Not my face!” I called as he wound up to toss another one. “Or my balls!” I made sure to cover the money maker area just in case.
“Then where am I supposed to hit you?” he came back with.
Still sitting in the snow, I stealthily grabbed a handful of the cold stuff and tried to pack it as tight as I could with one hand.
“How about here?” I said as I hurled it at his chest.
He looked down, scowling at the white powder still clinging to his jacket.
While he was distracted, I got to my feet and took off for the garage, yelling, “Oops!”
It didn’t take him but a second to catch up to me. His arm wrapped around my waist, and as I struggled to get free, we both went down. He managed to soften the blow, or maybe it was the snow that cushioned the impact. Either way, I was in his arms, and there was nowhere else I’d rather have been.
“You sure are somethin’,” he whispered before he leaned down and took my lips with his. I melted into him, though maybemeltwasn’t the right word, given that I was freezing my ass off. Truth be told, I was loving every second of this. Romance and winter vibes? Yes, please.
I couldn’t resist the idea that popped into my head. Before I knew it, I had a handful of snow and I plastered it against the top of his head. He pulled back and blinked down at me, face full of shock. Crumbles of snow fell from his hair and landed on my face. I closed my eyes and laughed so hard.
The world around me rumbled in my ears. I opened my eyes just in time to see the look of pure joy on his face as that rumbling noise turned into a rusty belly laugh, forcing its wayout after yeeeaarrs of being locked up. We gave in to the insanity until we were both breathless and nearly crying.
Who was this man tackling me? Kissing me? Laughing as he lay in the snow?
The smile was glued to my face as I stared up at him.
I liked this side of him just as much as the grumpy one. And yes, I did like his grumpy side. I kind of found it cute.
“Come on,” he said, standing and pulling me up once he was steady on his feet. He brushed me off, then his hand was in mine as we continued on our way.
We stepped inside the big garage, and I instantly began to thaw at the blast of heat that hit me. On the closest wall, there was a chair next to an old, wood-burning, stove-looking thing, which was already going since Killjoy had run out here like thirty minutes ago and worked on the fire. All for me, I assumed. A metal coffee maker sat on top of the stove. The back corner of the huge space held a cheap metal shelf that seemed to be stacked with canned goods and other non-perishables. Anything that wasn’t in a can had been put in clear, air-tight bins. Three motorcycles were lined up in the first area. The second was where he’d tucked his truck away again. Since his truck was so big, I couldn’t see what was beyond that.
“You ride?” I asked, already knowing the answer. We hadn’t talked about it, but since I’d seen the leather and the patches, and felt the vibe that went along with it, I knew he was a biker.
And his flat look aimed my way said I wasn’t fooling him.
Maybe this was a good time to bring it up.
“Which one is yours?” I asked, turning back to take the three motorcycles in.
Way to chicken out.I sighed internally at myself.
“Wait!” I said. “Let me guess.”
I walked over to the first one, which seemed to be the one he was currently working on. It was sexy, but didn’t fit Killjoy. So, I moved on to the next one. It looked cool too, with its flat black paint, black leather seat with studs around the edge, and tall handlebars. Yeah, maybe the black on black would have worked for Killjoy, but somehow I didn’t think this was it.
It had to have been the third one. As I rounded on the beautifully polished chrome beast with big pipes and a worn leather seat that said it had a relationship with its owner’s ass, I knew it was his.
