Frostbite

His eyes widen. “You paint balls?”

Apparently, the word ‘balls’ is as amusing to him as it is to Myrtle.

“I hand paint Christmas ornaments and sell them online,” I say before I realize it’s none of his business.

He chuckles. “That’s quaint.”

What a jerk.

I hold onto those words because it’s the holiday season and good tidings to all, or maybe that only applies to kind and decent people. This guy appears to be neither.

I count to ten under my breath and smile at him. “Standing in the middle of a snowstorm talking to you isn’t my idea of fun, so I’m leaving.”

He tugs the scarf closer to his face. “We finally agree on something. I don’t find this entertaining either.”

I let out a huff before I brush past him and start walking toward Dexie’s place.

When I stop to glance over my shoulder, he’s watching me.

I’m tempted to flip him the middle finger, but I don’t. I turn back around and leave the rude grump behind me.***I try to sneak quietly into the townhouse, but the singing Christmas tree-shaped mat on the floor ruins that. As soon as my boot touches the corner of the mat, a chorus of Silent Night starts. I curse under my breath, knowing that the sound will lure my older sister into the foyer.

It works like a charm.

“Rae?” Dexie appears with her hair tucked into a braid. She smiles as she tugs the red apron around her waist higher.

I point at her growing belly. “Your baby is going to be huge, Dex. I think it grew since I saw you this morning.”

She lets out a sweet-sounding giggle as her hands circle her baby bump. “I’m plumping up. I had to take my wedding rings off today because they don’t fit. When you’re pregnant, you’ll look just like me.”

I can’t argue with that. Even though we’re four years apart, we bear a striking resemblance to each other. We have the same color eyes and hair. Try as she might, Dexie has never convinced me to jump on the pink streaks in the hair bandwagon. It complements her personality perfectly, so it suits her.

My hair is naturally blonde and a few inches longer than hers.

My sister glances at the paper bag in my hand. “What did you get?”

“Frustrated,” I huff. “I bought a dozen ornaments, but a man ran into me on the sidewalk and crushed the bag.”

Concern fills her expression. “Did he knock you down? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I tell her with a half-smile. “His coffee spilled on me, but it was lukewarm.”

She brushes a hand over my chin. “You could have been hurt.”

“I know, but I wasn’t,” I say to reassure her. “The ornaments didn’t come out of it in one piece though. The jerk who crashed into me didn’t even apologize.”

She wraps an arm around my shoulder. “This is New York. You can’t expect anything from anyone.”

I know she’s right. Even if the man I collided with wasn’t looking where he was going, it wasn’t all his fault. I was distracted too. Placing all the blame on him isn’t right.

“I’m cooking dinner.” Dexie adjusts the collar of the cute pink blouse she’s wearing. “I made homemade chicken noodle soup, and those butter-topped buns that mom used to make when we were kids.”

Our childhood wasn’t lacking for anything but a father. Our dad took off twenty-four years ago, right after I was born. Our mom saw to it that my sister and I were well taken care of. We weren’t spoiled, but we had enough food, clothes, and love to leave us with warm lasting memories.

“I’ll go clean up, and then I can help,” I offer. “First, I should toss all of this broken glass in the trash.”

Dexie shakes her head. “I’m sorry that guy ran into you. Was he hot at least?”

I shrug. “He had a scarf wrapped around him. I only saw part of his face, so I can’t judge.”

She smiles. “Judge what you did see. Hot or not?”

“Hot,” I admit with a smile. “I’m basing that on his gorgeous blue eyes and brown hair.”

“Sounds like me.” Rocco Jones, my sister’s husband, rounds the corner to the foyer. “Are you two talking behind my back again?”

Dexie nuzzles into Rocco’s chest as he wraps both arms around her. “Never, my love. Raelyn met someone today.”

Shaking my head, I can’t hold back a laugh. “I didn’t meet someone. He damn near knocked me over on the sidewalk. He spilled coffee all over me.”

“Not exactly prince charming,” Rocco says. “Some men in this city could stand to learn a thing or two about how to treat a woman.”

“You’d be the perfect teacher.” Dexie gazes up at him.

I’m surprised red and pink hearts aren’t shooting out from her brown eyes. I’ve never seen anyone as in love as these two. I can only hope one day I find a relationship as solid as they have.