Page 45 of Cabin Fever Baby
“And you’ve been banging me like it’s your job, Angel. I think I can handle some snow. Or...” He grinned down at me. “You don’t think you can outdo me with a snowman.”
“Snow person!” I pushed him back playfully. “Might as well make a girl snowman since those are the only breasts you’re touching today, pal.”
“Now wait a minute. We just said sex. Copping a feel wasn’t off the table.”
“Now it is.” I pushed him toward the door. “Wear layers.” I gave him a smug smile. “I’m from snow country. I take my snow people very seriously, Hudson.”
Hurriedly, I got ready with a pair of yoga pants under my corduroy pants from the other day. Two pairs of socks and a thermal shirt over my stolen tank was a good start. I headed out of my room and downstairs to find my hoodie to wear under my pink parka.
A couple minutes later, I was wrapping my ten-foot scarf around my neck that Q’s makeup girl had crocheted for me with a cozy, squishy merino wool.
Hudson came down the stairs, laughing as he got a look at me. He was wearing a thin black zip pullover workout thing with matching track pants and black boots. He looked like he was getting ready to go on the ski slopes. But I recognized the high-end winter wear from years of living in the Catskills.
And he was far too attractive while I resembled a kid with mismatched clothes unfit for a snowstorm. Maybe I’d spent too much time in cushy buses these days and not out in the elements. But I was winning this snowman contest. I cinched my scarf a little tighter around my face in response to the wind whipping beyond the front windows.
“Ready?” I asked.
He pulled a yellow and black jacket out of his other suitcase that was still sitting by the door. “Got gloves in that pink frothy concoction you’ve got going on there?” He zipped it and pulled very sturdy black gloves out of his pocket.
Damn him for being so pulled together.
I tipped up my chin. “Ready.” I opened the door and barely resisted a squeak at the arctic blast that slammed into me. It was a little better once I actually got out on the porch.
The drifts had been drifting and then some. They winged up over the steps and railing, trailing onto the porch in chilly dunes of powder.
Hudson stepped out and grabbed the shovel leaning against the cabin. Quickly, he started making us a path down the stairs and out on the yard. His car was almost completely covered in snow. The beach along the lake was only broken by the endless lapping of the angry waves getting stirred up by the wind and endless flakes.
It was damn cold out here and the visibility was near zero. I wasn’t sure how we were going to make a snowman when the wind was pushing me along the path Hudson had made and literally closing up behind me.
But I was determined to stay out of the house for a few minutes at least. I chased Hudson down the zigzagging trail he was making with the shovel until we reached the beach. The water was breathtaking this close up.
The clouds were so full of snow, it seemed as if the storm was never going to end. I trudged through the snow to get a look at the main thoroughfare, Lakeview Drive. There were faint tracks from whatever plow had managed to drive the roads, but I had a feeling we were well beyond a state of emergency when it came to this storm.
Then a snowball hit me square in the back.
I swung around to find an unrepentant Hudson toting a shovel over his shoulder with a full load of snow.
I screeched and dodged as I tried to run by him. The whomp of snow that hit me square in the chest made the breath leave my body.
Hell, I was pretty sure my spirit left along with it.
His eyebrows shot up under his yellow beanie he must have pulled on when we got outside. It was caked with snow, and he was already reloading the massive shovel.
“That is not a snowman!” I yelled into the void of wind and whipping icy snow.
He grinned. “Can’t it’s too fluffy.”
Then another shovel full came my way and I spluttered. Frosty crystals formed in my scarf and hat and went down my jacket. I ran at him, using all the blocking techniques Rio had taught me on the ice and winged him in the shoulder. He went down with anoof, making a huge dent in the drifts of snow.
I grabbed the shovel and dug deep into the more packed powder and heaved it onto him, square in the face.
“Hey! I didn’t go at your face.”
“I told you, I don’t play fair, remember?”
He rolled onto his side like a beached seal, and I couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. He caught my ankle, and I went down face first into a drift. The icy packed bits were more like icy rocks as they snaked their way down into my parka.
I couldn’t feel my face, but I could pack a damn snowball. I lobbed one over my shoulder where I thought he was and heard a wheezing laugh.