28. Monty

Chapter twenty-eight

Monty

“I swear to God, Dan Montgomery, if you throw that snowball, you’re not getting sex for a week!”

“It’s cute you think that you sound threatening, Birdie. We both know you wouldn’t last a day without needing some double D.” I throw in a wink for good measure and continue to smooth the snow I’m holding into a ball.

“Double D? Are you serious?”

“Dan’s Dick. It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” I cock my head to the side and move my arm back into a throwing position. “Now, hold still so I don’t miss.”

She shrieks as I let the snow fly, but I purposefully aim for the ground in front of her. I burst out laughing as she glares at me, then… “Oh shit.”

I duck into the trees as a snowball is fired my way but goes wild. “We gotta work on your arm, babe,” I call out, gathering up more snow. I peek around the tree, only to get hit in the face with cold, wet snow. “Damn it.”

Lark’s laughter is a lot closer than I anticipated. “How the hell did you sneak up on me, woman? ”

“Revenge is sweet,” she answers, reaching up to brush snow off my chest. “Truce? I’m cold.”

Nodding, I return the favour, dusting snow off her toque. “Truce. Want to head back and warm up?”

When Lark suggested we head up one of the local mountains to go snowshoeing, it was an immediate yes. The best part of living in Vancouver is the proximity to activities like this. My mind has already jumped ahead to next fall, when we can come back and hike this mountain.

After the Tridents win the championship, of course.

It’s called manifesting.

We turn and make our way back along the snowshoe trail that leads to the ski lodge. It’s nice and quiet on the mountain today, with most people already back to work and not out enjoying the winter weather. For most of the trek, the trail is wide enough for us to walk side by side, and I love holding Lark’s hand, even through winter gloves. This shit never gets old. Having her with me, free to be affectionate, not needing to hide my feelings. It’s almost — almost — better than sex.

Nah, who am I kidding? It’s nowhere close. Sex with Lark is fucking life-changing. Earth shattering. Best. Feeling. Ever.

The first few days after popping my cherry, we were insatiable. Thankfully, Lark’s desire was just as intense as mine, or I might have felt a little guilty for how often I wanted her. Then again, I made damn sure she got off every fucking time, so maybe the guilt is misplaced.

Even now, over two weeks later, I can’t stop wanting her. But moments like this, when we can just be , help ease the ache.

We reach the lodge, and I bend down to help unstrap her snowshoes. Glancing up from my crouch, I catch her staring back at me, love shining from her eyes.

“You’re a goner for me, Lark Miller.” I wink, loving the way she blushes.

“Pointing out the obvious isn’t all that charming, you know.”

I stand up, her snowshoes in hand, and arch my brow. “Excuse you, I’m exceedingly charming.”

All that gets me is an eye roll. “When you’re not making obnoxious jokes about your double D, maybe.” She’s fighting back a smile.

Leaning in, I kiss her nose, which is red and icy cold under my lips. “Good thing you love me anyway.”

Her arms are around me in an instant, pulling me tight. “I do, I really do.”

We stay there, right in front of the ski lodge, for a minute or two. Until the cold air seeps in, making us all the more freezing now that we aren’t moving.

Reluctantly, I pull back and drape my arm over her shoulders to steer her toward the door. “Come on, Birdie. Let me buy you a fancy hot chocolate.”

The interior of the lodge is impressive, with vaulted ceilings, lots of windows, and plenty of comfortable seating. We find a couch near a large fireplace, surrounded by rocks that go all the way to the top of the building. There’s a nice fire crackling away, giving off some welcome heat.

We discard our coats, and I gesture to the nearby café. “I’ll be right back with drinks.” Lark nods and sits down, removing her boots so she can tuck her feet underneath.

While I wait at the counter, I can’t stop looking back at her. She’s so damn pretty, but it’s more than that. She’s had my heart for years, without even knowing it.

The guys all gave me shit when I got my tattoo, but I didn’t care. Because somewhere along the way, Lark became more than just the woman who stole my heart. She became my best friend.

The barista sets the hot chocolates down on the counter, and I take them with a smile after dropping a bill in the tip jar. Picking up the two mugs, I turn and find Lark looking at me.

Closing the distance between us quickly, I bend down and meet her upturned lips with a kiss. “Good, you’re not an icicle anymore.” I sit down and hand her one of the mugs. “I asked for extra marshmallows.”

Lark lets out a happy hum and inhales the sweet aroma coming from the mug. “Perfect.”

Draping one of my arms along the back of the couch, I toy with the end of Lark’s blond hair, tied back in a braid. “Do you know how to ski?” I ask as I watch a couple walk in with ski helmets under their arms.

She shakes her head. “No, I always wanted to learn, but it wasn’t an approved activity in my house.”

“That’s some bullshit.” I snort. “What was considered appropriate for the Miller family?”

Lark looks up at the ceiling and shifts closer to me. “Ballet, which I hated. Swimming, which was okay, but not my favourite. I begged my parents to let me try gymnastics, did that for a couple of years, but I wasn’t very good. It was one of my nannies that helped convince Mom and Dad to let me try out for a soccer team, and that’s where I found my passion.”

I lean forward, fascinated. “How did I not know you played soccer?”

She shrugs, looking down at her hot chocolate, now empty. “I don’t talk about it a lot. But yeah, I played all the way through high school. Even got scouted by a university down in California, but Mom and Dad said no.”

I scoff. “Seriously?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I blew out my knee in a spring training camp my senior year. That ended my soccer career pretty quick.”

“Damn, Birdie. I’m sorry.” I pull her into my chest, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “That’s shitty.”

She nods, and I hear her sniff. “Yeah, it was. But my high school coach is the one who convinced me to get my kinesiology degree, so I guess it wasn’t a complete loss. After all, if I had kept playing soccer, I might not be here.”

My arms tighten around her. “In that case, is it bad for me to say I’m glad you injured your knee?”

Her laugh reassures me the conversation hasn’t been a total downer.

“Nah, it’s okay. You can say that.”

“So how did your parents handle the end of your soccer stardom?”

“They couldn’t have cared less.”

I push back, tilting her chin up so I can look her in the eye. “Excuse me, what?”

Lark’s cheeks darken, and I hate the idea she might be embarrassed, but I have to know what she means.

“I think they only ever came to maybe two or three games. The championships, mostly. They didn’t have the time, and heaven forbid if it was raining.” Sarcasm drips from her voice.

“That is complete bullshit.” I’m outraged on her behalf. “I’m sorry, Birdie. I would have come to every single fucking game and cheered you on so loud.”

Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but it’s a start. “I know you would have. You’ll be a great dad someday.”

Dad .

That’s something I rarely think about. Having kids someday. Kind of hard to do when you aren’t having sex, after all.

But now? The idea of having a family with Lark one day doesn’t freak me out. Quite the opposite.

“Our kids would be badasses. They’d dominate the sports field.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can think about how it might sound to say our kids .

“Oh really?” Lark laughs. “And what if they don’t like sports? What if they’d rather read or draw.”

“That’s totally cool, too,” I reply, warming up to the conversation. I can see little blond girls racing around and brown-haired boys hugging their mom as tightly as I do. “I don’t care what my future kids want to do with their lives as long as they’re happy.”

“Same,” she says with a happy sigh. “Do you want a lot of kids?”

“Honestly? I’ve never thought about it. But yeah, I think a big family would be cool. Just not until I’m done playing ball,” I say firmly.

“Why’s that?” Lark asks, without a hint of judgment.

I pause, considering my answer.

“Reality is, as a catcher, I have maybe five or six more years before my knees start to give me trouble. And if I want to be an involved dad who can run around with his kids and do fun stuff with them, I don’t want to be a cripple from more than a decade of catching in the big leagues. Plus, if I wait till I’m retired, I’ll have time. And I won’t be gone half the year. My mom and dad were always there for me, and I want to give the same to my kids.”

I sense her move her head, and when I glance down, she’s looking back up at me.

“That’s incredibly thoughtful for something you haven’t considered before.”

I give her a bashful grin. “Well, if I’m lucky enough to have kids with a woman I love, I want to do it right.”

Lark stretches up and kisses my chin. “She’d be a lucky woman.”

I adjust and kiss her lips. “Yeah? Know anyone who might want the job?”

She giggles against my lips. “Maybe. Ask me in five years when you retire.”

I grin at the thought of Lark and I still together in five years. “Deal.”