Everything in me goes still and focused. "You really want to find out?"
Her grin falters. "I... maybe?"
I bend down, scoop up snow, and advance on her. She squeals and runs, but she's laughing too hard to get far. I catch her easily, wrapping one arm around her waist from behind and holding her against me.
"Got you," I murmur in her ear.
She shivers, and it's not from the cold. "So you do."
We're both breathing hard, pressed together, and I can feel every curve of her against me. It would be so easy to turn her around, tilt her face up, finally taste those lips that have been driving me crazy for days.
But I don't.
Instead, I gently release her and step back. "Truce?"
She turns to face me, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. "Truce."
We finish the snowman in companionable silence, and when it's done, she stands back to admire our work.
"Perfect," she declares.
"It's crooked."
"It has character."
I look at her instead of the snowman. "Yeah. It does."
She catches me staring and tilts her head. "What?"
"Nothing. Just thinking that you look happy. Really happy. And I like being the reason for that."
The words slip out before I can stop them. Her breath catches, and color floods her cheeks, not from the cold this time.
"Silas—"
"Come on. Let's head back before we turn into snowmen ourselves."
But as I turn to leave, she catches my hand. I stop, looking back at her.
"Thank you," she says softly. "For this. For making me laugh. For... for seeing me."
My chest tightens. I step back toward her, close enough that I have to tilt my head down to meet her eyes.
"I see you, Iris. All of you. And I like what I see."
For a moment, we just stand there, the world reduced to the space between us, the warmth of our joined hands, the possibility hanging in the cold mountain air.
Then I make myself step back. "Inside. Now. Before I do something we're not ready for."
Her eyes widen, but she nods.
Back at the cabin, we're both cold and wet from the snow. Iris heads upstairs to change, and I build up the fire, trying to get myself under control.
This woman is going to be my undoing.
When she comes back down, she's in dry clothes and her hair is loose around her shoulders. She settles on the couch, curling up in the corner.
"That was fun," she says. "Thank you."
