Spark ( Book 3: Stronger Series )

28. Snow

On a drawn-out sigh, I sat down on the floor behind her, my legs stretched out on either side of hers and pulled her to my chest. She settled against me without protest, her chilled bare skin calming the heat in the center of my chest and warming hers.

"You're doing that thing again that you shouldn't be doing," I said softly in her ear, her hair tickling my jawline. My hands rested on my bent knees, effectively caging her body in mine, but she didn't react, just relaxed as best she could.

"Are you going to punish me for thinking about snow?" she asked quietly, sniffling again.

I furrowed my brows. "Snow?"

"Yes, snow."

"And why does snow have a place in your mind right now?"

"I was thinking about how much I miss it."

"Mmm," I said, resting my lips against her hair while my knuckles brushed over the skin of her arm. I didn't know if I liked where this conversation was going. "What brought this on?"

"It's Christmas next week," she announced.

"I know," I murmured against her skin, as if it was something I was supposed to care about.

We didn't often celebrate Christmas in my house after my father passed. He was the only one who pushed to get all of us together, and now that he was gone, my brothers and I just stuck to our own busy schedules. Dan celebrated with his wife's family, Dom partied in Vegas, and I was too busy running everything else to give a shit about a fucking holiday. I did give my staff one hell of a Christmas bonus, though. That was as festive as I got.

Since I'd missed Thanksgiving, I didn't think that I could potentially start my own holiday traditions with Jaden as Dan did with his wife, but it might do her some good to experience a little holiday fun. I was sure I could think of something to make her eyes sparkle. Especially if she missed the snow.

I could feel Jaden start to sink into me more and more, her sleepiness starting to take over again. Taking her in my arms, I lifted her up and carried her back to the bed without a single moan of protest. She was still awake, but I wanted to hold her closer. Gently laying her down in the bed, I removed my pants and crawled in, resting her cheek against my chest. She sighed sleepily, resting her hand on my abdomen while my fingers drew lazy circles on her shoulder. My other hand drew lines up and down her arm as it rested on my torso, lulling her to sleep. That was when she suddenly, but softly, wrapped her fingers around my wrist to pull my hand up for her to see.

Curious, I let her fingers continue their exploration, her small hands expanding my fingers to open my palm. She turned my hand around, exposing my raw and red knuckles. The darkness of the night shielded only what it could from the moonlight, but it wasn't enough. I could feel her face tighten as she focused on the remains of blood that dirtied my father's ring on my middle knuckle. Her thumb traced just below my knuckles, her touch soft and gentle, as though she were trying to avoid hurting me.

She sighed through her nose, acknowledging the damage I'd done tonight and dismissing it, as she should. When she turned my hand back over, her delicate fingers traced along the rough calluses of my palm, exploring every line of my hand as if she were trying to discover every terrible thing I'd done with them. I'd lost count of the lives these hands had taken years ago, the body count too many to recall.

Stretching her hand against mine, her fingers barely reached past my second set of knuckles and for some reason, I found myself curling my fingers over hers. That was when I allowed my hand to take over hers, tracing her lines and delicate features. Even though her hand was small, it was still capable of so much damage, so much fury. Being punched by her little fist felt like being stabbed with a baseball bat—small and concentrated but still painful as hell.

My fingers kept up their expedition until they came across some minor calluses beginning to form on the top of Jaden's palm, just below her fingers. My fingertips lingered on the tiny rough patterns, suddenly frowning in disapproval.

"You're getting calluses from all the weights you've been lifting," I said softly.

"Mmmhmm," she mumbled with a slight nod against my chest.

I didn't want her hands rough like mine. I wanted them soft and feminine, polished and pristine. But still capable of delivering a strong punch if she needed to.

"I'll get you some weight lifting gloves," I said.

"Mmkay," she said sleepily, her eyes finally closing while her fingers curled around mine.

I placed her hand back down onto my abdomen, my hand still clutching hers and loving everything I felt. That night I fell asleep dreaming of something I'd never seen before—Jaden's genuine smile. It was so rare to see, and I suddenly decided I wanted it more often.

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