Perfect (Second Opportunities 2)

Zack got to his feet and concentrated on brushing snow off his hair and jacket and legs, but he wasn't immune to the sudden exhilaration that came from being outdoors beneath a bright blue sky, surrounded by a winter wonderland of snow-covered pine trees and in the company of a young woman who had suddenly turned playful.

Grinning, he finished brushing himself off, then advanced on her slowly and purposefully. "That was extremely childish," he chided.

She watched him, backing away, step for step. "Don't try it," she said, choking on a laugh, "I'm warning you—"

Zack lunged, she twisted suddenly, tangling her leg around the back of his knee, jerking hard and up, and the next thing he knew, he was toppling backward in slow motion again, flapping his arms like a wounded goose, trying to regain his balance. He landed flat on his back with an audible thud at her feet while her laughter pealed like bells through the pines.

"That," Julie informed him, enjoying herself hugely, "was partial payment for smashing snow in my face at that rest stop." She stood over him, waiting for him to get up, but he continued to lie there, his face strangely thoughtful, his eyes focused on the bright blue sky above her head. "Aren—aren't you going to get up?" she chortled after a minute.

He turned his head toward her. "What's the point?"

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she said cautiously.

"My pride is in tatters, Julie."

A sudden memory of all his tough-guy movies flashed through her mind, and she suddenly understood why he was embarrassed. She could tell he wasn't faking it either by the way he was lying there and the strained tone in his voice. Evidently a double who looked like him had done all his fighting for him on film, she realized, overcome with contrition for adding to his burdens with such petty revenge. "That was stupid of me. Please get up."

He squinted against the sun and said quietly, "Are you going to knock me down again?"

"No, I promise I won't. You're absolutely right, I was being childish." She reached out a hand to help him, bracing herself on the slim off chance that this was a trick and he was going to try to jerk her off her feet, but he took her assistance gratefully.

"I'm too old for this," he complained, rubbing the back of his knee and brushing off snow.

"Look at that—" Julie said, anxious to make him forget his embarrassment, pointing to the snowman she'd started yesterday. Giving him a sunny smile, she explained, "The wind made a crater over there and the snow isn't nearly as deep. How would you feel about helping me rebuild a snowman?"

"That's fine," he said and to her delighted shock, he reached for her hand and held it—two lovers walking through the snow, holding hands. "What was that you did to me back there?" he asked admiringly. "Was it some sort of karate move, or was it judo? I always mix up the two."

"Judo," she said uneasily.

"Why in hell didn't you pull that on me at that rest stop instead of running?"

She gave him an embarrassed look. "My brother Ted gives self-defense classes, but I thought the idea was silly in a place like Keaton and I refused to go. So he taught that particular move to me at home a long time ago. When you were chasing me that day, I panicked and ran. I never even remembered I knew how to do that. Today, I planned to do it beforehand, which is why I was able to pull it off so easi—" she stopped in midword, trying desperately, if belatedly, to spare his pride.

They'd reached the snowman and he let go of her hand, looking down at her with an admiring smile. "Do you know any other fancy moves like that?"

Julie knew several more. "No, actually, I don't."

Still smiling down at her, he said very softly and very gently, "Then please permit me teach you another one—" He moved so swiftly that Julie let out a startled screech at the same time she left the ground, propelled backward into a pile of snow with exactly the right of amount of controlled momentum to land her, sitting up, legs sprawled straight out in front of her, unhurt.

She gaped at him, laughing helplessly at her ignominious flight through the air, then she got to her feet. "You are really awful," she chided, pretending to concentrate on brushing the snow off while she tried to think how to get even. She turned away from him for a second, then she turned back and gave him an innocent smile as she walked toward him.

"Had enough?" he countered, grinning, his hands loosely at his sides.

"Yep, you win. I give up."

This time, however, Zack saw the sparkle in those bewitching blue eyes. "Liar," he laughed when she began slowly circling him, looking for a place to aim her body. He turned with her, both of them laughing now—Zack determined not to give her an opening when she charged, Julie knowing exactly how she intended to force him to give her one.

"Time out," she laughed, stopping and pretending to fiddle with the zipper she'd pulled down herself a minute ago. "No wonder I'm freezing. This zipper keeps sliding down."

"Here," Zack said with swift courtesy, exactly as Julie had hoped. "Let me try." He pulled off his right glove and looked down at the zipper. The moment his fingers touched the tab, Julie twisted sharply, aimed her shoulder at his chest with all her might and plowed at him like a football halfback. He moved aside, and Julie's shoulder rammed thin air with so much might that she went plowing right past him, head down. Propelled by her own force, she charged straight into the snow bank behind him, burying her head in it all the way up to her shoulders.

Trying to breathe, laugh, and dig the snow off her face at the same time, she backed out of the snow bank, turned around, and leaned against it, while his laughing voice remarked, "I've never seen anyone turn their own head into a snow drill before. Interesting demonstration. Do you think we could sell the idea to a manufacturer?"

That did it. With a shriek of laughter, Julie slid down, collapsing at his feet, convulsed with laughter. Trying to catch her breath, she looked up at his grinning face. He was looming over her, his hands on his hips, a picture of vastly amused male superiority. "When you're ready to get down to serious snowman business," he smugly informed her with his chin thrust in the air as he walked off, "you—"

Julie stuck out her foot. He tripped, twisted, and went down like a felled tree. Howling with laughter, she rolled hastily aside, scrambled to her feet, and backed out of his reach. "Pride cometh before a fall—" she reminded him, giggling, backing further away as he got up.