Blake says nothing.
He just grins.
But he shortens his steps, letting me fall into rhythm with him as we move across the field, some of the tension dissipating.
It’s quiet as he focuses on work. I try not to be too obvious watching him.
He’s so intense it practically breathes electricity in the air. Completely absorbed in checking every minuscule detail—whether he’s making sure the outlets are grounded or…
Okay. Confession.
Half the time I don’t even know what fire chief stuff he’s doing.
I don’t care.
I just like watching the way his lips part on plumes of breathy frost-smoke, breathing through his mouth to warm the frigid air.
As we make our way to the edge of the field on the far side from the parking area, though, I get a wicked idea. I can’t unsee it once it hits me in the face.
There’s a slope leading down toward the valley, totally covered in snow.
And someone’s left several sleds lined up in lanes, with flags at the bottom of the hill.
They must be planning sled races.
Grinning from ear to ear, Blake’s eyes meet mine and do a double take.
“What’s up?”
“Fun,” I say, turning to walk backward in front of him. “Race you to the bottom of the hill.”
His eyes follow to the sleds I’m pointing at.
He stares at me, blinking. “What? Shit, you can’t be—”
“C’mon.” I toss my head toward the sleds again. “Scared of taking a tumble?”
Another blink.
Then a wide, disbelieving, almost boy-like grin spreads across his face.
“You’re fucking kidding me, Peace. What are we, twelve? I’m supposed to be Mr. Authority here.”
“Maybe,” I tease. “Listen, I’m not good at ignoring my impulses. So, I’m gonna sled down this hill. You can come with, you can watch, or you can keep being a boring adult, but I’m going to have some fun.”
Something in Blake’s eyes snaps, soft blue turning fiery, his grin sharpening. “You think I’m boring?”
“I dunno.” I shrug flippantly with an innocent little whistle. “It’s all safety this, safety that, barking orders…”
“With good reason.” He snorts. “And speaking of safety, we could break our damn necks on those things plowing into a tree.”
“All the more reason to try it out! So you can check for safety before the carnival races.” Spreading my hands, I take a few steps back, then turn and dart for one of the sleds. “See you at the bottom, slowpoke.”
“Hey!” he hollers after me, but I’m already running, flinging myself facedown on one of the wooden sleds in a totally graceless belly flop and shoving off with my feet.
Laughing uncontrollably.
Snow sprays my face in a dusty white plume as I go rocketing forward, surging over the peak of the hill and down way faster than I expected.
I let out a breathless sound that’s half scream, half laugh, clutching tight to the edges of the sled.
“Goddammit, Peace!” Blake snarls after me, but he’s laughing, and his voice sounds way closer than it should.
No, I don’t want to crash. There’s no real danger of trees, thankfully. They’ve already got this little plastic fencing set up to stop serious crashes.
I can’t resist looking back over my shoulder as the bottom of the hill comes hurtling toward me.
Oh, God.
Oh my God.
Blake’s barreling down after me, but he’s sitting upright on his sled.
Only, it’s too small for him.
His long, muscular legs jut out in the air, and his hands clutch at the front of the sled between his thighs, his entire body leaning back like he’s trying to slow the thing down, bucking its nose in the air from his weight.
Yes, he’s hollering fit to kill.
But he’s laughing, too, breathless and startled and a little bit panicked.
He’s also careening straight toward me. Uh-oh.
Gravity isn’t my friend today.
Blake weighs a lot more than I do, and he’s hurtling toward me at breakneck speed, moving twice as fast and bearing down.
Our eyes lock for half a second. He comes screaming in, trailing white plumes in his wake.
Then the nose of his sled plows the side of mine, and we both go airborne in a tangled mess.
I let out an undignified screech, laughing helplessly as I grab at him.
We don’t fly far.
We’re almost to the bottom of the hill anyway, and Blake’s heavy, weighing us both down.
But my stomach still nearly drops out and buries itself in the frozen snow clinging to me as we tumble and roll and tangle together.
Finally, we hit the bottom, smashing into a snow drift with a dramatic whump!
At least we’re not moving anymore, right?
I don’t think I could if I wanted to, anyway.
And right now, I don’t want to go anywhere.
Not when Blake’s weight presses down, all heat and hardened man. The snow feels frigid against my back. It’s already starting to soak my jacket and freeze my skin, but Blake is a couple hundred pounds of masculine fire caged in human skin.