“So pretty,” she repeated her words from earlier and passed him the next one.
We were almost done with Kai putting the crystal teddies on high branches when Emma woke up, fussing for hugs and still tired. I bounced her, humming along to the Christmas carols, and passed her to Kai when he extended his arms for a hug.
“I missed everyone so much.” He buried his face in her neck, and she giggled softly. “I missed you.” I glanced up to find him staring right at me, and I swear I went scarlet. The moment was broken by a crash from the hallway. “I think the boys need to burn off some energy.” He nodded at the window. “Snowmen?”
Bundled in coats, and all the scarves and hats I could find, we went into the backyard for snowman-building. There was already a small army of them out there, and the boys seemed confused as to why we were nudging them outdoors, but Alice was happy, and Emma followed her to the nearest, deepest snow to start building. Finally, the boys got with it, helping their respective sisters, and I started to roll my own round belly ready for a snowman that maybe one of the kids could decorate with me.
“Can I help you?” Kai said from my side, hunched into his coat as he waited for me to reply.
I fought my first instinct, because he looked so hopeful, and it reminded me of all those times as kids when I would be the one asking, and he always let me join in with him, even when my brothers would rather have buried me in snowballs. “I guess so.”
It was too cold to do any more of this talking he wanted to do, so what harm was there in building a snowman together?
“We can talk as we make it,” he said.
Kill me now.
Chapter Eleven
KAI
However close I got to him, however much I knew exactly what to say, none of the words happened. There was always something that got in the way. Charlie wanted to talk about his slapshot, Emma wanted me to carry her everywhere, Alice asked me questions about snow, and Mitchell wanted to tell me all about playing for juniors, and did I think that he would make it.
I answered every question, carried Emma, and attempted to help Bailey with his snowman, but in the end, it was the snowman-building that fell by the wayside, and not once did I get to have a serious conversation with him.
“Uncle Kai?” Alice tugged at my coat. I shifted my hold of Emma and glanced at Alice to see her staring up at me with an expression that could only mean trouble. She looked so much like Brooke that I had flashbacks from childhood, when it was typical for Brooke to corner me and ask me to take part in some new, heinous plan. She gestured for me to lean down, but it was easier to go into a crouch. Muscles ached where they never used to, as my fitness levels were winding down from their peak with every passing day.
It was okay.
I’m okay.
“What’s up, pumpkin?”
She wrinkled her nose at that but didn’t pass comment. Instead, she leaned in, which made planning whatever shenanigans she was up to obvious.
“I make really good snowballs,” she murmured, and then glanced behind herself to check on her brother and cousin. “Like really good.”
“Me too,” I said in all seriousness.
“Charlie won’t play with me because I’m a girl.” Another nose wrinkle, and I realized that was her tell for when she was less than pleased with her lot. “Then he said I couldn’t play hockey.”
“Girls can play hockey,” I defended, ready to die on that hill if that was what she wanted to do.
“Sometimes I want to play hockey, but only if I was captain and only if I can wear purple, and sometimes I don’t want to, because the ice is cold,” she said, and now I was super-confused. Was I supposed to be supporting her in her bid to take women’s hockey by storm, or telling her that it was okay for her to choose whatever career she wanted? This uncle shit was impossible.
“Okay.”
She picked up a handful of snow, concentrating so hard her tongue poked out, and then when she was happy with the loose snowball in her hand, she showed me.
“Watch this!”
I did as I was told, following her progress in the deep snowdrift by the house, wondering if she’d fall over and disappear, as she crept up behind Bailey. To Bailey’s credit, he’d spotted her a while back, but was pretending he wasn’t aware she was there. When she threw the snowball, it hit the back of his knee, and he faked diving to the ground, rolling dramatically and then lying with his arms spread as if he was going to make a snow angel.
“She got me!” He moaned, and then faked unconsciousness, his eyes closed, a smile twitching on his lips. His hat had fallen off, and his blond curls were loose in the snow, just like a real angel.
I’ve never seen a man so beautiful.
“I got Uncle Bailey! Look, Charlie! I got him!” She scooped up another handful of snow, and crept toward Bailey, who waited until the last minute, then grabbed her and clutched her to his chest, pretending to eat the snow in her hand. Then Charlie joined in, then Mitchell, and when Emma wanted down, it was inevitable that I get involved.
Somehow, we split into teams. Charlie and I against the rest, and even though I could only use one hand, I was damn accurate with the throwing. I had images of getting in a snowy tussle with Bailey, laughing, maybe even kissing him on the sly, but it never happened, and that was probably a good thing. Today was all about the kids, and by the time we trooped indoors for hot drinks and cookies, our coats were wet through with snow.
Cookie-decorating was next on Bailey’s schedule, and he’d made some snowmen and Santa cookies that were ready to frost, whisking up different colors in bowls and setting them in a row.
The boys were more interested in eating the cookies dipped in the frosting, before disappearing to play hockey on the game machine that Leah kept there for her grandkids. Emma was fractious, decided she wanted her toys, and toddled off to play, which left Bailey, Alice, and me, with the important task of decorating the cookies.
I chose a snowman because it seemed the easiest thing to do, and of course, after splitting the frosting bag, then squirting too much of the sticky white stuff everywhere, it was a mess. Bailey’s, on the other hand, were immaculate; each Santa he completed had a different quirky expression.
I took a new snowman, inspired by Bailey to make something that didn’t end up appearing as if it had been dropped onto the floor. Watching how he did it—well, staring at him—I saw the incredible concentration on his face, and loved the ease with which he appeared to create magic. After a while, he must have sensed me staring at him because he glanced up and met my gaze. I smiled with great caution, then wondered if he would blank me, or if there had been any thaw since that morning. I didn’t expect much at all, but he didn’t break the connection. Instead, he appeared to be examining me in return, and there was confusion in his silver eyes, and the small lines of a frown. I had so much I wanted to say right then, from sorry, to please forgive me, to asking him how the hell did I frost a damn cookie.
I was the first to glance away, but I did chance another peek at him, and he was back to being serious-talented-cookie-artist and talking to Alice about the color of the carrot on her snowman.
Inspired, I took a black icing pen and drew a snowman’s face, then added a speech bubble where his hat would have been, coloring around the bubble so it stood out. I repeated the same to another three cookies because the message I wanted to write wouldn’t fit on one, then I inked in the speech and casually slipped the first three Bailey’s way. At first, he didn’t see the full question, or if he saw it, he didn’t respond; and then I saw him do a double take, and glance from the cookies to me.