She leads me out the back door and down a snow-covered path that winds through bare trees. Our boots crunch as they break the sparkly surface. The property extends farther than I realized until we reach a clearing where a small pond sits frozen and pristine.
“This area would flood every winter and when it froze, if you crossed to that corner, there were little icy lanes that you could follow like enchanted paths. I’d make up stories about where they’d lead.”
“Of course you did.” My smile is as sweet as a sugar cookie.
Boldness seems to surge through her. “I want to show you. Right now. Go get your skates from the truck—I’ll grab my old ones from inside.”
My eyebrows lift in surprise. “Right now?”
“Before I lose my nerve.” Taking my hand, she leads us back the way we came. “I’ve been writing about brave heroines my whole career. Maybe it’s time I acted like one.”
Our eyes meet, filled with equal amounts of excitement like kids who’ve just hatched a plan on an otherwise dreary winter day.
I never doubted that Bree knew how to have fun, but I questioned whether we’d have it together. I think I have my answer.
Smiling, I say, “I’ll get them. I’d love to skate with you.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’re gliding across the ice.
“So you know how to skate,” I ask when I catch up to her midway across the pond.
Moving with fluid grace, she says, “I used to spend hours out here.”
“So you were a free-range kid.”
She laughs at my choice of words.
I don’t take it she was neglected, per se. More like overlooked. But I see her—all the beauty in her eyes. The intelligence in her mind. The laughter on her lips. I want to tease it out in abundance, with abandon. To learn more, go deeper.
Side by side, we take off, moving fluidly and smoothly. Suddenly, we both hit a rough spot, like there was a stick frozen in the ice that was pushing up. Arms flailing, we nearly take a spill, but reach for each other and get our footing.
Standing face to face, chests heaving, Bree tips her gaze toward me. Warmth radiates between us and the crackling could be dangerous, could turn a solid into a liquid, given our current location.
“Thanks for the save. You’re not too shabby at this either.” She bites her lip as if afraid she said too much, let out too much slack in the line and worries about what I could do with it.
I could close the distance. Sink my mouth into hers.
No. I need to recalibrate. I should.
My voice is low and raspy when I answer. “What can I say? I’m good at what I do.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “At everything?”
“Maybe I should let you be the judge of that.” My lips quirk. If I moved a few inches, I could press them to hers. But without the mistletoe hanging overhead, would she return the kiss?
Instead, I start to skate backward, circling her and saying, “Come catch me.”
“Showoff!”
“Says the woman who did a perfect spin mere moments ago.”
Bree laughs, the sound carrying across the frozen pond. Pink-cheeked from the cold, she looks more beautiful, freer than I’ve ever seen her as she races after me. I dodge her easily, but then turn around and playfully chase her.
“Gotcha,” I say, gripping her wrist and reeling her in. When we come to a stop, I loosen my hold and say, “Let’s try something.”
“Do I trust you?”
“I’m your husband. Plus, what have I ever done to make you question whether you can trust me?”
