Page 34 of Unexpected Complication

Skylar mostly hung around the front of the house as Sean and I shoveled and used the snowblower. I kept an eye on her, but other than standing and seemingly daydreaming, she didn’t try anything. She used the broom to sweep the steps, but I saw her struggle, even with that simple task, due to her hands. When she sat down on the steps with a huff, I smiled. She was wearing an extra coat of Sean’s that was far too big on her and a pair of my boots I had laced up as tight as possible. She looked ridiculous. The hat and scarf looked pretty on her, though, the blue color a nice contrast with her skin. She bent over, playing with the snow, and I let her be for a while. When I needed a break, I made my way over to check on her. She smiled at me, her cheeks pink.

“You okay? Ready to go inside?”

“No! I’m being good!”

I snickered. “Yes, you are—surprisingly.” I frowned. “Are you sure you’re not too cold?”

She shook her head. “I have lots of layers and socks.”

“Okay.” I turned to go back when she called out.

“Cian!”

I looked over my shoulder.

“Thanks for checking up on me.”

I grinned and started to say something teasing, when it hit me. Right in the face.

A snowball.

Then another. This time in the chest.

I looked up at Skylar, who was now standing, another snowball in hand. I glanced to the steps and realized she’d built herself up quite the pile. Not taking my eyes off her, I bent down, gathering up some snow.

“You sure you want to play this game, Kitten?”

She giggled and threw the one in her hand, missing me totally. “Bring it on, fuckwit.”

And so it began.

“I give!” Skylar squealed, holding out her hands. She was covered in snow.

I hesitated, not ready to lower my arm quite yet. She had already tricked me once, then got me right in the face.

Her supply had been depleted quite rapidly, and thanks to her fairly lousy aim, most of them ended up missing me. From then on, we’d chased each other, throwing and laughing. My hits were far more accurate. Sean ignored us, using the snowblower and working on the driveway, although I could see his laughter on occasion when Skylar would celebrate a rare hit with a little dance.

“Step away from the snow,” I ordered.

She moved, and I scanned all around her. I lowered my arm and nodded. “I win.”

“Says who?”

“I still have a snowball. That means I win.”

“I got rid of all mine first—that means I win.”

I snorted. She changed the rules every game so she won.

“I don’t think so.” I tossed the ball in the air. “I could always throw this one—one last hit and prove I won.”

She slammed her hands on her hips. “I called no joy! You wouldn’t dare.”

No joy? What movie had she gotten that from?

I smirked at her. “I wouldn’t?”

She stepped forward, her hands out, pleading. “Please don’t, Cian. I’m cold now.”