To Fall for Winter

by Kelsey Kingsley

  For Patrick, it was the rusty—albeit temporary—nail in the coffin that held his relationship with his childhood sweetheart. It was the consequence to trump all others. And, well, I also like to think it was one of the best things to ever happen to him, because I know now that he sees his daughter as anything but a mistake.

  For my twin brother Sean, it was the encouragement he needed to continue being the perfect son. It was the pressure to get good grades, keep his head above water, and although he never said it, it stressed the shite out of him. I could see it in the lines that had formed between his brows.

  As for me? Well …

  On that night, after sneaking up to the bedroom I still shared with Sean, all I can remember thinking was, “Well, nothing I do can ever be as disappointing as this. That guy has set the bar, and I will never see myself over it.” And that would have been fine, except that, for me, it wasn’t a warning—it became a dare, and I tested it a little too much. I managed to pass over that bar by the time I was twenty, and I just kept on climbing.

  And it wasn’t that I was a bad guy, keep in mind. I just couldn’t seem to help myself. I just found trouble, or maybe it found me. Who the hell knows.

  Still, by some miracle, I had never knocked a girl up.

  Maybe things would have been better if I had.

  And this was what I thought about while Snow and I did the cliché bullshite of having a smoke after sex.

  But you know, she had been right.

  About the sex, I mean.

  I had never been in love with a woman who knew what she was doing. Not like being with her. No, she had been something else.

  Her mouth tasted of coffee and menthol; the familiar addictions tantalizing my own senses. Her skin was chilled to the touch, no matter the temperature of the room, but inside, she enveloped me in a comfortable, snug warmth. The scent of the crisp outdoors and a woodsy perfume clung to her skin and hair, reminding me instantly of fireplaces and frosty nights.

  And for that solid hour of getting to know her in the rawest of ways, it dawned on me that she was the embodiment of winter, and just as unpredictable. One moment, she was mild and sweet, biting her bottom lip in that coy little way that drove me crazy. Then the next, she was controlling my every move, telling me exactly what she wanted and where. She didn’t play guessing games, she didn’t leave me fumbling or questioning. She guided my hands and my mouth; using my body for her personal benefit. So many other girls might have been a giggling bundle of shyness, saying the dirty words that came out of her mouth, but not Snow.

  It was a rare, fine thing that I relished and devoured for a solid hour. Because Christ, how could I have possibly lasted longer than two years before doing something stupid, reckless, and good like this?

  “What are you thinking about?” She broke the silence, tapping one of her fingers against my chest, and I looked down at her. Her eyes met mine with a little smile. “And please, don’t say some lame shit, like how beautiful I am. Be honest.”

  My mouth twisted into an amused smirk. “What if that is what I’m thinkin’?”

  “Because you’re not even looking at me, Ireland,” she retorted with her own smirk and a light giggle. She tapped my chest again. “Come on. Tell me, and remember—be honest.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I took a moment to ponder the question, to find my answer, and finally said, “I’m thinkin’ that—”

  “Nope, you hesitated. Try again.”

  My brow furrowed, shifting my jaw from side to side. “Ehm, well …”

  “Knock it off Ireland. Come on, tell me exactly what you’re thinking. One, two, three … Go.”

  On the spot, I blurted it out: “I’m such a feckin’ disappointment.”

  She raised herself up on an elbow, looking at me with her icicle eyes. “Why do you say that?”

  I bit my lower lip, chewing before shoving the cigarette back in my mouth. I diverted my eyes from hers, letting the smoke dangle between my teeth. I smoothed a wrinkle out on the bed for no particular reason other than it was something to do. Something other than looking at her, and the eyes that threatened to freeze me to death.

  “You have to answer the question,” she said, her voice soft.

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s all part of our deal.”

  “Our deal?” I laughed, unsuccessfully fighting the smile that tugged at my lips. “I think that was all you, babe.”

  “Yeah, well,” she said, “we didn’t have shitty sex, so now, I want to know more about you.”

  Finally, I looked back at her, plucking the cigarette from my teeth. “You could ask my favorite color, or if I like walkin’ barefoot in the sand.”

  “Oh, because that’s important,” she laughed, shaking her head with an eye roll. “No, come on. Just answer the question. It’s not that difficult. You have nothing to lose by telling me.”

  She had a point there.

  “Fine.” I sighed and grabbed for the ashtray on the night stand, stamping my smoke into it. “I’ve done a lot of stupid shite throughout my life, and I asked my parents for help a couple years ago. I told them I was ready to grow up, and they must’ve been so feckin’ thrilled to hear me say that, because they jumped at the opportunity to sort me out, as long as I promised to not screw it up again.”

  “What kind of stupid shite?” she asked, her voice full of intrigue. Her mockery of my accent and learned language didn’t irritate me the way it usually did.

  Another red flag, waving in the winter wind. Another red flag, going ignored.

  “Ah, well, let’s see … I was arrested twice—”

  “Ooh, a man with a record.” She grinned at me, rubbing her hands together. “I knew you were a bad boy.”

  I laughed. “Oh, yeah, it’s real impressive,” I said with an eye roll, “especially when one of those times, it was my brother puttin’ the cuffs on. That was a whole lot of fun.”

  She winced. “Wow, that’s an awkward family dinner waiting to happen.”

  I pursed my lips and nodded at the ceiling. “Might’ve been, if I hadn’t already been arrested once and slapped on the wrist countless times. Ya know, it just became somethin’ they expected from me, I guess.” I shrugged. “Anyway, then there were the hospital visits …”

  “Do I want to know?”

  “Once I broke my leg jumpin’ off a roof.”

  She laughed. “Why the hell would you do that?”

  “Because I was high, and my friend told me to do it.”

  “Good reason.” I heard the eye-roll in her sarcastic tone, and I couldn’t say that I blamed her. It was a dumb thing only a dumb kid would do, and it was even dumber still that I hadn’t been a kid at all. I had been twenty-three.

  I decided to leave out the admission that the other hospital visit had come to pass because an ex-girlfriend decided to stab me. I figured that could be a story for another day, or you know … Maybe never.

  “Anyway,” I said in a tired, heavy voice, “I’ve made a lot of dumb choices, borrowed a lot of money for stupid things, got fired from a lot of jobs, and had a handful of terrible ex-girlfriends. So, yeah, I was kind of a wreck, and my parents had to step in and clean shite up.”

  “And now, you think that by sleeping with me, you went back on your promise?” I hesitated, and she shook her head. “Stop stalling,” she scolded lightly, tugging gently at my beard.

  And I did. “Yeah.”

  I expected her to flip out, to jump from the bed, collect her clothes and storm out. To make things really awkward when I saw her again in that tiny town. It’s what another woman would have done, after being told they were the reason you were feeling like an absolute piece of shite for doing what you had just done.

  But, not Snow. She wasn’t one to be predictable or act like any other woman.

  She smiled, satisfied, and settled her head against my chest. “I like you a lot, Ireland.”

  “Because I’m a disappointment?”

  “No.” I felt her
lips against my chest, right over my heart. “I like you, because you’re loyal.”

  She raised her hand to my mouth, placing her cigarette between my lips. I found myself smiling, treating myself to the last drag of a smoke that had been touched by her pretty mouth, and I put it out in the ashtray.

  “Get me something to drink,” she demanded sweetly and patted my bearded cheek.

  I laughed as she rolled off to the side of the bed. She laid flat on her back, raising her arms above her head, propping one knee up, and Christ. I couldn’t stop looking at her.

  Slender and small with a delicate bone structure—she reminded me of a bird in that way. Her skin was glowing white and ink black, the contrast startling and breathtaking. With the smudged black makeup, the black hair, the black painted on her finger and toe nails, I thought she looked like a black-and-white movie star. Old fashioned beauty with the modern enhancements of intricately detailed tattoos.

  I was so screwed.

  I swallowed, rolling up from the bed. “So, what would ya like?”

  “Well, what do you have?”

  “Water. Coffee. That’s about it.”

  She raised an eyebrow, twirling a strand of her dark hair flirtatiously around a finger. The rise and fall of her breasts hypnotized me, the jewelry in her nipples twinkling in the light.

  Christ almighty. I swallowed, unable to take my eyes off of the gemmed barbells.

  “No alcohol?” she asked, ripping me from my magpie impersonation.

  And, ladies and gents, I had stumbled on the deal breaker. “Nah, I don’t drink anymore.”

  “You are the shittiest Irishman ever,” she laughed, tipping her head back and grinning at the ceiling as though it were the funniest thing she had ever heard. “Is that your way of rebelling against the stereotype or something?”

  “Or something,” I growled out, my eyes wandering the length of her body. From the downward slope below her ribcage, to her two-times bejeweled navel, to that tiny bit of silver metal between her legs.

  My eyes narrowed, my fists balled, my mouth salivated, and my breath hitched. Every part of my body fought, completely stuck between wanting to pounce on her again and kicking her out for poking fun at my decisions to keep a level head.

  She raised her other leg, crossing it over her propped-up knee. The dainty foot with its black-polished nails danced in the air, and she smiled. “Guess what?”

  “Hmm?” I grunted, leaning against the doorframe.

  “I don’t drink anymore either.”

  She was full of surprises. So unpredictable.

  “Well, that settles it,” I said with a spreading grin. “I’m buyin’ ya dinner.”

  Snow smiled, pulling herself into a seated position. Her arms crossed over her legs, making her a tangle of tattooed limbs, and I knew there was no way I was going to let her leave before getting lost in her again.

  “See, Ireland?”

  “Hmm?” I asked with my sheepish smile, too busy staring to form any intelligible words.

  “Sex first.” She sighed. “Best way to get to know someone.”

  CHAPTER THREE |

  LITTLE DOGS & TEAMWORK

  Snow had moved into the apartment over Mrs. Montgomery the Church Lady’s garage. With nothing other than what could fit into her little orange VW Beetle, her belongings were minimal. She didn’t have much in the way of tables or chairs, and so she insisted we have dinner at my place.

  “And eating out isn’t an option, unless we’re talking about your mouth on my …” she said when she stopped by the clinic earlier the next day, a mischievous smile playing at her lips and pointer fingers aimed downward.

  I choked on my coffee.

  “What?” she smirked, not remotely embarrassed in the room full of two- and four-legged clients.

  “I’d be grateful if ya didn’t get me fired,” I said after composing myself, surveying the room for onlookers while blotting at the spilled coffee on my shirt.

  “Oh, excuse me, Mr. Secretary. I should’ve realized this town was full of sexless prudes,” she teased with a theatrical roll of her eyes. “Tell me, where do the babies come from around here? Stork? Cabbage Patch?”

  It was in that moment that Mayor Connie Fischer bounded through the door with her toy poodle clutched firmly in her arms. “Ryan!”

  I glared at Snow, warning her with my eyes to keep her mouth shut, before addressing Connie. “Yeah Connie, what’s up?”

  “I need you to work your magic,” she said urgently.

  Snow crossed her arms and raised a mischievous eyebrow. “What does this woman know about your magic, Ryan?”

  Connie took a hard look at Snow, the two women sizing each other up as though they really were fighting over me, and I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Mayor, this is Snow, the new tattoo artist.”

  “Hmm. I heard you were coming.” Connie narrowed her eyes with blatant scrutiny at Snow, taking in her pitch-black hair and makeup, the tattoos on her hands, the piercings in her lip and nose. “No surprise you’ve already been acquainted with our Ryan.”

  Snow turned to wink at me. “Oh, we’ve been acquainted, all right.”

  I wanted to laugh, but I bit back my chuckle and scowled at her before turning back to Connie, reaching open hands across the desk. “Consider my magic worked. What are we doin’ with him? What color ribbons?”

  “Oh, the usual teddy bear cut. And the ribbons, hmm … Something Christ-like.”

  Connie pursed her lips and nodded with satisfaction at her choice as she placed the squirming little dog in my hands. I pulled him into my body and scratched him behind the ears. He looked up to me with pleading eyes, and I shot him a look that I hoped said, “Sorry, pal. Nothin’ I can do about the owner God graced ya with.”

  “Christ-like?” Snow asked, shooting the Mayor a puzzled look, and when she didn’t get any answers, she raised her eyebrows at me.

  “Baxter plays Baby Jesus in the live-action Nativity scene every year,” I supplied, and Connie scoffed.

  “I asked Patrick and Kinsey if I could use Erin, because Lord knows that baby would make an excellent Christ, but no,” she said with a scowl and a shake of her head. “I swear, everything I do for the people in this town … You would think it’d be nothing to let me borrow a baby for a night.”

  Snow bit her lip to suppress her laughter, her cheeks pinking just a bit under the fluorescent glow of the lights.

  “Kinsey is stubborn.” I nodded with agreement, my voice quivering on my own quelled chuckle.

  “I even offered to let them play Mary and Joseph! Do you know what an honor that is? What more could they possibly want from me?”

  “Couldn’t say, Mayor.” I shook my head

  “You know … Ryan …”

  Here we go. “Yeah?”

  “He is your brother. Maybe you could—”

  Yeah, not going there. “Y’know, Connie, I should probably get to work on this little guy,” I said, cutting her off. “I mean, you want him to be ready before rehearsal, right?”

  “Yes! Yes, of course. Remember, Ryan: Christ-like.” She flashed me the old Jazz Hands, and Snow had to turn around, pretending to stare at a poster of a Jack Russell while she squeezed her blackened lids shut, biting her tongue.

  “You got it.” I flashed her my best grin, and she bound out of the clinic.

  When the door was closed, Snow lost her battle with the giggles and she covered her mouth with both hands. I chuckled along, but mostly I watched the tears collect in the corners of her eyes, wishing I had met this version of her before the version intent on sleeping with me. This playful version with her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her lips looking particularly soft and kissable.

  “Wow,” she said breathlessly when the last of the giggles subsided.

  I smiled. “And now you’ve met the Mayor.”

  “I already knew she was a nut. When I first got here, some little old lady mentioned that the Mayor banned everybody from parking on the street
,” Snow explained, her eyes twinkling with the warning of another giggle fit.

  I grinned, leaning back in my seat with Baxter making himself at home in my lap. “Ah, right … The old No Parked Vehicles Allowed on the Street rule …”

  She pursed her lips. “Wait a minute … If nobody can park on the street, how the hell do you get away with it?”

  I shrugged with my hands, tipping my head against the back of the chair. “Must’ve worked my magic.”

  Her eyes widened, and her hands went straight to her hips as she leaned closer to my ear. “Oh my God, you’ve actually slept with that woman?”

  The sincerity in her eyes was intense, and I almost thought I caught the faintest glint of jealousy in there.

  I chuckled and shook my head. “Hell no.”

  Snow rolled her eyes playfully, standing up and crossing her arms. “Whatever you say, Mr. I’m the Only One Allowed to Park on the Street.”

  My laugh was impossible to keep contained. “Trust me, she’s not my type. They were discussing the parking situation at a town board meeting, and I mentioned that I thought it’d be inconsiderate to other town residents if I were takin’ up a whole parking space just for the bike,” I said, one corner of my mouth upturning into a lopsided smile. And then I gestured for her to come closer, and when her ear was almost touching my lips, I whispered, “But really, I just didn’t wanna have to make the walk from the parkin’ lot all the way over here.”

  Snow giggled, and then harrumphed. “Well, maybe I’d like to reap those benefits as your, um, friend.”

  I shrugged, ignoring the very loud, very hard pitter-patter of my heart. “I’ll drive ya to work, if you’d like.”

  “Good,” she said, triumphant and smiling. And then, she reached over to pet Baxter. “So, Mr. Secretary, my lunch break is almost over, and we still haven’t decided on dinner.”

  “You’re really opposed to goin’ somewhere?” I asked, reviving the original conversation.

  “Yep.”