“I would never.”
“You always do.”
I shrug. “She’s cute.”
“She’s dangerous.”
“I wonder where she gets that.”
Talon snorts loudly. Ash shoots him a murderous look before turning back to me, jaw tight, voice low. “Why are you here, Lucy?”
“What? I’m volunteering. Like last time.”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
Heat slides down my spine. God, he’s impossible. And impossible looksreallygood on him under moonlight with snow melting on his eyelashes.
Before I can respond, Holly tugs on my coat. “Lucy! Come play with us! We’re doing a snowball relay. You need to be on my team!”
I beam. “Absolutely.”
Ash mutters, “This is a terrible idea.”
“It’s festive,” I counter.
“It’s hazardous.”
“Live a little.”
He gives me an expression that could melt a glacier. “Lucy. You’re wearing suede boots.”
“They’re weather-treated!”
“They’re a lawsuit.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“I’m realistic.”
I smile sweetly. “Come on, Captain Safety. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Ash’s eyes narrow, and for one long beat, heat pulses between us—thick, humming, unavoidable. I can’t breathe. He can’t either.
Then Holly throws two snowballs at once. One hits Ash in the thigh. The other hits me square in the hip.
“READY, SET, GO!” she yells.
The kids break into a chaotic sprint. Adults cheer. And Ash glares at me like this is my fault.
“Congratulations,” he mutters. “You’re in charge of her next sugar crash.”
“Oh no,” I tease, “this is all you.”
“Lucy…”
“Yes?”
“I swear, if you throw a snowball at me?—”
