Witching You Weren’t Snowed In (Witching You #2)

Chapter 16

Sage

Leo placed the letter tiles onto the board, spelling out the word that got him twelve points on the scorecard.

“Really? You went with, agony? You just played, tormented, and before that—“ I glanced at the board. “You played, haunted. I’m sensing a theme. Who are you, Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights? ”

Leo cocked his head and pressed his mouth into a grimace. “You’re the one who wanted to play a board game. I voted for silence.”

“If I remember correctly, I suggested we play Twister. You’re the one who chose Scrabble.”

“It was the safer choice,” he said under his breath as he pushed off the sofa to throw another log into the fireplace.

It was hotter than a snowman in the Bahamas in here. Leo kept adding logs to the fire every time I got too close. If I even moved within a three-foot radius of him, he was up, stoking the flames like a man possessed .

I took a cool drink from the glass of water on the table, but it did little to tame the heat. I fanned my face and reached for the hem of my sweater.

“What are you doing?” Leo pointed the fire poker in my direction.

“Relax. I’m melting over here. You’re taking your job as Fire Master a little too seriously.” I pulled the sweater over my head and tossed it over the back of the sofa. Then I patted the cushion. “I’m ready to play my next word.”

Leo’s gaze roamed over my ice-blue silk camisole. His throat worked, and his chest rose on a deep inhale. Warily, he sat on the sofa. Three feet away.

I placed the tiles one by one, then flashed Leo an innocent smile. “Tempting, six points.”

Leo mumbled a curse.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and dropped his head back like he was in pain. I almost took pity on the man. Trying to push him over the edge was wrong, and I fully expected a lump of coal in my stocking tomorrow morning, but I was having too much fun to stop.

If you’re snowed in with your enemy-turned-potential lover, you take advantage of the situation first.

It’s science.

The snow had piled up outside and still fell in a swirl of white as the day faded into night. There was something almost tranquil about watching it through the window; the raging force separated by a barrier of glass and wood.

I’d been running from one thing to the next for so long, it felt good to stop. Facing the storm wasn’t only about uncovering secrets. It was about slowing down long enough to appreciate the moments I missed most. The quiet ones by the fire. The long looks. How my heart fluttered by being near someone. A laugh that made my cheeks ache.

It was those simple things that made Leo and me great. Even after all these years. Even after the hurt. We couldn’t bury that part of us.

And Leo was trying—poorly. He just hadn’t realized yet I had no intention of letting him push me away this time.

The shadows deepened, making the candles glow brighter, the wax pooling inside the glass jars.

I moved closer to Leo, scooting the three feet to lean over him. His head jerked, eyes opening to find me pressed against him.

“Bennett.” He whispered my name as if it were an ache he couldn’t soothe. He was the only one who’d ever called me that, and hearing it now, filled with such quiet intensity was almost my breaking point.

Slowly, I reached past him to twist my fingers around the candle wick in the jar near his elbow. The extinguished flame ignited back to life on a spark of magic.

“The candle went out,” I murmured, as his ragged breath fanned my neck. He’d gone still, a whipcord tightness in his muscles. His hands settled around my waist as if he’d lost the fight battling for control .

He was warm and solid beneath me, and I couldn’t hold on to my secret any longer. My game had lost its appeal to the possibility of the real thing. An honest relationship with Leo. My mischief paled in the face of that.

My lips parted; the words on the edge of my tongue.

Leo made a rough sound in the back of his throat as he lifted me off him. I bounced on the couch cushion, staring at the spot Leo had been.

He was up again, this time pacing in front of the windows. Tension radiated from him, and I stood, wiping anxious palms down my leggings. I might have gone too far with that one.

I was lucky Leo hadn’t tossed me in a snowbank. I had it coming.

“Okay, so maybe no more board games. We could try something more cerebral. How about Two Truths and a Lie? I’ll start.”

Leo spun toward me, his expression as fierce as the storm raging beyond the window. His humorless laugh echoed into the rafters.

“Enough, Sage. I don’t know if this is some twisted version of revenge, and maybe I deserve it, but I’ve had enough.”

He prowled closer, and I stepped back until I bumped the edge of the sofa. There was nowhere else to go.

To answer my earlier question about walking in nature, yes, there were bears in Cold Spell. I just poked one, and now I had to stay still, hoping he wouldn’t devour me whole.

Leo’s body pinned me in place, and a strange note burned in his voice when he spoke .

“No more fireside games. No more leaning over me, wearing nothing but silk.” His finger deliberately trailed along the thin strap of my camisole, making my stomach clench. “And most of all—“ Leo grasped my chin, tilting my head until our gazes locked. “Stop making my only Christmas Eve with you a brutal reminder of what I lose when the snow stops.”

Leo’s words sucked all the air out of the room. Even the wind obeyed, smothering its wicked howl. The silence had a weight to it, making my chest constrict until I swallowed a breath, my voice wavering when I spoke.

“I said, I’ll start. Two Truths and a Lie.”

Leo’s gaze grew cold, giving the ice outside a run for its money, but I kept going. He was right. I’d had enough too.

“One: you taught me how to ski. Two: I won Agent of the Year. And three: Your father threatened to ruin my parents unless you stopped seeing me. So you stayed away and never showed up for our date.”

“What?” Leo asked.

He searched my face as if something there could lessen the shot I launched across the bow. But it hit him square in the chest; staggering and fatal. The fight leached out of him, replaced by a searing fear. He gripped my arms, tightening until his hands stopped shaking.

“Bennett, I can explain—“

“Which one is the lie?”

“The second one.” His tone was flat, almost deadened.

“And when you pushed me away on the overlook, you did it because you thought I’d eventually find out what happened and hate you for it?”

Leo swallowed hard. “Truth”

“But you were wrong. I’m not angry. Not at you. I’m furious at your father for making you choose. How cruel.”

My hand cupped the side of Leo’s face, and he leaned into it.

I steadied my voice. “I’m touched you offered to pay back my parents and help them get ahead, and while I was infatuated with the boy who taught me to ski, I am in love with the man who bought this lodge and blackmailed me into helping him save it.”

“That better be another truth,” Leo said, his voice rough with emotion.

“It is.”

“I love you, Bennett,” Leo whispered into my mouth as he pulled me in for a lingering kiss. He dragged himself away with a groan and pressed our foreheads together.

“I have loved you since I first saw you warm up your boots. I tried to stop, and I know I broke your heart, but I have loved you every day. Every minute. And every second you didn’t know that, kills me. Because you need to know how much you mean to me. How much I want to spend every single Christmas with you. Every holiday. Every day.”

I poked him in the chest with a soft laugh. “Well, I work holidays.”

“Then I go to where you are. ”

“It’s a deal,” I said, going up on my toes to seal it with a kiss.

Leo framed my face with his hands, and we sank onto the sofa. He deepened the kiss. The feel of his mouth was almost too addictive, rivaling the heated moment at the overlook.

But this time, it didn’t end the same way.

We didn’t rush. The snow was the perfect accomplice. A card-carrying member of Team Villain savoring its nefarious scheme.

It deserved a promotion.

I wrapped my legs around Leo’s waist as his mouth trailed kisses along my collarbone, my head falling back with a silent moan. Heat from the fireplace warmed my back, and the quiet crackle of the flames were hypnotic as I slid my hands into his hair.

“It’s always been you, Bennett,” Leo’s husky murmur, had me searching for his mouth again. He kissed me with those words still hanging in the air, until they became part of me. Until I believed it.

He gentled the kiss, almost reluctant to pull away, but when I searched his face, I understood the look in his eyes. We had all night, and maybe even a small part of him was afraid I'd be gone by morning. But I wasn't going anywhere. This was where I belonged.

Leo wrapped his arms around me as we lay on the sofa. The quiet settled around us in the place where we'd met. The place Leo had restored with his own hand, and the place where our hearts felt most at home.

“I can’t believe you’re mine this Christmas,” he said, tracing light circles over my skin with the tips of his fingers.

I snuggled deeper in his arms. “I can’t believe you wore an elf costume.”

Leo winced. “I can’t believe a photo of it ran in the paper.”

“I kept it, you know.”

“So did I.” He tickled my ribs. “We’ll have to print a copy for your parents’ collage of awkward Sage photos.”

“Watch it. You’re about to be featured prominently and often on that wall. I’d consider a haircut.”

Leo gasped teasingly and pressed the palm of my hand to his lips. “I’ll have you know, this haircut scored me a two-year contract with a winter sportswear catalog. The sweater I wore had rave reviews, and it wasn’t because of the fiber count.”

“My apologies to your adoring fans.”

“Don’t apologize to yourself. I forgive you.”

My grin widened as Leo tilted my chin up to chase it away with his mouth.

“I think the snow stopped,” I said. I glanced out the window, feeling a beautiful peace fill my heart. My snow curse was broken. The wind had stilled, the clouds parting to reveal a bright moon. A blanket of snow glistened under its light.

Leo didn’t even bother to look. “No, it didn’t. You’re officially snowed in until I say otherwise. We might be here for days. Weeks.”

“A month at least. It was a terrible storm.”

“Dreadful. We may never dig ourselves out.”

I pressed another kiss to his lips. “It’s almost midnight. Merry Christmas, Grayson.”

“Merry Christmas, Bennett.”