Kissing Jenna (Big Sky 2)

Like, get naked and roll around sexy.

And I don’t love it.

“Uh-oh,” Willa says, watching me. “She doesn’t like this part.”

“I was okay with the kissing,” I admit, and have to look away when I can see his fully naked backside covering her supposedly naked body, and he’s moving as if he’s inside her. “But, no. I don’t like the sex.”

“It’s not real sex,” Hannah says, then swallows hard. “Although, he’s a good actor. It looks pretty real.”

“There are dozens of people watching,” Grace reminds us.

Thankfully, it’s over quickly. The movie ends shortly after, and the lights come up.

“Are you okay?” Willa asks.

“Of course,” I reply. “It’s a movie. It isn’t real.”

“One more,” Grace says. “And this one is a comedy, and if I remember correctly, Christian doesn’t take his clothes off. Much to my dismay.”

“Let’s do it.”

Halfway into this movie, Christian asks a woman to marry him. Is it sweet and fun? Yes. Is it also a bit weird?

Sort of, yes.

His hair is much blonder in this film, and he’s got his scruff going on. The actress is cute and quirky, and when he asks her to marry him, she clutches her heart and starts to cry.

“I want the have-you-seen-the-way-he-looks-at-her kind of love,” Willa says with a sigh. “I think I’m there, you guys. It’s been years, and I miss being part of a we.”

She has that, she’s just too damn blind to see it. My brother is a wreck every time he looks at her.

I wish they weren’t both so stubborn.

***

“Where are we going?” I ask Christian the following afternoon.

“It’s a surprise.”

I smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. “I like your surprises, but I need to know something so I can dress accordingly.”

His eyes skim over my mostly naked body.

“Maybe we should skip it and stay here,” he suggests, his hand gliding over my ass.

“No way. You promised me a surprise.”

He laughs. “Okay. Dress warm.”

“Are we going outside?”

He nods, and I can tell I won’t get much more information out of him, so I pull on some jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a red flannel.

“You know, it’s that time of year when most women look cute in their flannels. I look like I’ve misplaced my ax.”

He lets out a surprised laugh and wraps his arms around me from behind. “Stop it. You’re beautiful.”

“I can’t wait for summer,” I murmur. “Okay. I’m about ready. Am I driving?”

“No, ma’am. I’m driving.”

“Do you know where you’re going?”

He frowns, pretending to look hurt. “How could you question my natural sense of direction?”

“Come on, then, I want to see what the surprise is.”

We walk out of his tree house and down to his rental SUV, which is already running.

“Fancy,” I comment, wiggling my eyebrows.

“It has an app, so my lady doesn’t have to get into a cold vehicle.” He opens my door for me, then shuts it when I’m inside and settled.

He drives us down toward town. The roads are treacherous today after a heavy snowfall last night and today.

“They plowed, but it’s icy,” I murmur. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“I’m sure,” he says. He has both hands on the wheel and he’s watching the road carefully. “I have precious cargo with me, and I’m a trained driver.”

I’m quiet as he works his way down the mountain, silently holding my breath and praying that we don’t slide.

Am I a bit of a control freak?

Maybe.

But we reach the bottom safely, and he turns toward town.

“You can breathe now,” he says and tosses me a wink.

“It’s not that I don’t trust your driving skills. It’s just that you’re from L.A. and you don’t drive in snow and ice very often.”

“Or ever,” he agrees with a nod and pats my leg. “But I won’t take chances or get cocky.”

Once in town, he drives past downtown and behind the post office where there’s a pond. Every winter, the city makes it an ice skating rink, and I immediately know what we’re about to do.

“Ice skating?”

He smiles excitedly as he parks, throws it out of gear, and hurries around to my side to help me out of the SUV.

We are the only car here. Someone strung lights between the trees above the pond, and as the sun is setting, it casts a soft glow over the space.

It’s dreamy.

He takes my hand and leads me to the edge of the pond where there’s a blanket laid over the snowbank. Two pairs of skates are set out for us, along with a thermos and a cooler.

“Where is everyone else?”

“I rented it out for the evening,” he says nonchalantly as he leans on the snowbank and trades his boots for skates. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

I lean on the blanket, and he gets to work trading my boots for the skates, then puts his gloves back on, stands, and holds out a hand for me.