Sean watched, amused by her determination in the face of a challenge. That was Lily Dunn in a nutshell—if a task was hard, it only made her try more.
He was sure that people who lived in such climates had many snowman-building techniques up their sleeves, but the snow did not want to cooperate with Lily’s wishes. No matter how hard she tried, the ball in her hands grew at a snail’s pace, with most of the snow falling off, rather than sticking to itself.
“If you keep going like this, you should be ready in time for next Christmas,” he joked.
Lily turned to him and narrowed her eyes, her mouth opening as if she were about to retort. Instead of firing off a verbal comeback, she drew back her arm and launched the snowball right at him.
7
The snowball was poorly formed and there was barely any substance left, so by the time it made it to Sean’s chest it had all but fallen apart. Snow splattered against his stomach, dusting him in powdery white, and the rest showered down around him. He blinked in surprise.
Lily wasn’t sure what had possessed her to throw a snowball at Sean. Maybe it was the teasing tone in his voice, or that it felt like she couldn’t do anything right of late—not even figuring out how to pack some snow together. Despite her trying to appear light-hearted and carefree, there was a pressure building inside her. Anger, sadness and regret all tangling together to form a hard knot behind her chest.
She felt like a grenade with the pin about to come out.
Her eyes widened, and she clamped a mitten-covered hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I—”
“Oh, you will be.” He grinned and crouched down, grabbing a fistful of snow himself.
Uh oh.
“Hey now, I didn’t want to start any trouble.” She put up both hands in surrender, but Sean didn’t stop grabbing the snow and trying to pack it tight. Whatever he was doing, it didn’t seem to work either, and the ball was falling apart in his hands. “Step away from the snow.”
“You’re dreaming, Lily.” He took a step toward her with that sexy hip-rolling swagger she remembered so well. Her mouth turned dry. “It’s time for payback.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” She stood her ground, nose in the air. Maybe if she called his bluff—
Pffft!
Snow exploded against her chest. They stared at one another for a full second before scrambling down to the ground to grab more snow. She laughed, desperately trying to get enough snow to make another attack. It was so dry and powdery that there was no hope and she ended up heaving two handfuls at him, unformed, getting him square in the face. The white particles clung to the dark hair lining his jaw, to his eyelashes and the beanie he’d borrowed from Ethan.
His gaze locked on hers as he retaliated, his laughter booming and sending a thread of awareness winding through her. A tiny snowball hit her arm and disintegrated. There was no way she’d be able to beat him at this game, since her hands were already sore from all the fruitless squeezing she’d done on the first snowball. But she knew one thing for sure…
She was quicker than him.
She turned and took off, sprinting across the snow-covered ground toward the back of the inn’s property. Back in high school, track sports had been her jam. She’d made it to the state competition for the two-hundred metre sprint, hurdles and relay, and even now she occasionally ran to clear her head.
What she hadn’t prepared for was the fact that Sean had zero trouble catching her. He might not be as fast, but his strides were way longer than hers and he ate up the distance in no time. His arm wrapped around her torso, stalling her getaway attempt.
“No!” she shrieked as he plopped a giant handful of snow right onto her head. “You’re going down, Sean Hutcherson. This is war!”
He still had a hold of her, and she was breathless from laughing and running and the cold. She wriggled in his grip, but he kept her contained with ease. Face turned up to him, she realised their bodies aligned perfectly. She could feel the muscles in his arm, even through the thick coat he wore, and the hard expanse of his chest. His smile was wolfish.
“I’m going down?” he said, looking smug as hell for having the upper hand. “I don’t think so, shortie.”
Lily’s mind swung from the desire to engage in a little friendly competition to the fact that she missed being held. After #breakupgate, she’d withdrawn from everyone. Ashamed of her failures, she’d buried herself in work and avoided Skyping with her parents and her cousins, hating the questions and the looks of concern.
She’d turned inward, shunning connection with others and only focusing on moving her career forward.
“Hey?” Sean’s face turned serious for a moment, as if someone had scrawled her thoughts across her face in black ink. Crap. She had to get better at hiding her feelings. “What’s wrong?”
He lightened his hold on her to see if she was okay and Lily seized the moment, shoving him so that he stumbled and toppled backwards. His muscular frame landed onto the soft snow, creating a plume of white.
“Oh, no you did not!” Instead of getting up, he flopped back into a prone position and moved his hands and legs in a wide arc. “It’s fine. I’ll just make some snow angels while I think about how you tricked me with that Oscar-winning performance right then. Crocodile tears and everything!”
Tears? She pulled off a mitten and touched her cheek. Sure enough, it was wet, but she couldn’t feel it because the cold numbed her skin. Horrified at the thought that she’d cried in front of him, she dropped down beside him on the ground. The snow was soft as she made an angel of her own.
Overhead, the sun crept behind a cloud, and the sky was a vibrant blue. With the hush around them and nothing but the whisper of limbs through the snow, Lily briefly contemplated staying in this magical winter wonderland forever.
It’s not real. This is a coverup attempt. A diversion. Once the wedding is over, you’re back to focusing on your career.
She knew that, of course. Her shambles of a life was still repairable, and running away from the problem—either by going home to Australia or somewhere else—would mean she’d truly failed. Permanently failed.
And Lily’s heart wasn’t quite ready to accept that.
“You play dirty, you know.” Sean rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one arm. When she mimicked his movement, turning to face him, they were suddenly much closer. “I don’t remember you doing that well in drama class.”
“Maybe you’re seeing things that aren’t there,” she replied evenly. As much as she may appear cool on the outside, the inside was a whole other story. Being watched by Sean’s silver-blue eyes and noting the way his full lips curved upward, she felt like an ice cube melting in front of a fireplace.
“I’m pretty sure what’s here right now isn’t a hallucination.”
It would be safer if it was.
Because then she wouldn’t be tempted by the hard line of his jaw, nor by his powerful hands and broad shoulders and the vibrant, magnetic energy of him. How easy it was to think they were all alone in the world, cradled by the hush of the snow and the beautiful isolation of the snowbound inn.
“He hurt you,” Sean said, suddenly serious. “It’s okay to be sad.”