Sienna
"This is insane. You know that, right?" Glancing over my shoulder at the tent filled with guests still enjoying the extravagant party, Lincoln shrugs and steps into the snow that's knee-high, gathering some up with his mittens.
"Who needs a lame party, anyway? We get invited to these things all the time, Sienna. I'm tired of them. Let's have fun for once rather than fight for investors all night."
My heart warms at the pureness and kindness of this man's heart. I never thought I'd find my perfect match—someone who understands me and my lifestyle so perfectly—but here he is in a puffer coat, chunky mittens, and a beanie rolling a large ball of packed snow.
He gave me some of his winter clothing to wear to ensure I'm not cold. I changed into a pair of his athletic leggings, a sweatshirt, and one of his snowsuits that is far too big on me. I have to hike the pants up even to walk, and I'm stumbling in his boots, but the thought of making one of my childhood dreams come true, as simple as it is, has me over the fucking moon.
"Come on," he says, his breath clouding in front of him. "You can make the body of it."
Together, we work in synchrony to create our snowman. The snow is freshly fallen, so it's white, fluffy, and beautiful underneath the moonlight. Laughter and chatter fill the silence between us from the party, and for whatever reason...ditching his mother's party and doing something like this instead feels...secretive and wrong, but I love it.
"We don't have a carrot for his nose," I say, my lips forming a pout. "And don't we need buttons for his eyes?"
He still has his suit underneath the baggy sweatpants and heavy coat, and I watch with wide eyes as he rips the buttons off his suit jacket and jams them into the snowman.
"Well, our snowman certainly has expensive taste," I muse. "He's wearing a thousand-dollar pair of eyes right now."
Lincoln shrugs. "It makes up for his lack of smell."
I'm giggling and smiling like a lunatic as I stare at our work of art. It's not the most perfect snowman in the world. It's lopsided and lacking a nose and mouth, but it's something I helped create, and this means more to me than all the money in the entire world.
"There's one more thing I've always wanted to do," I say with a wicked grin. His back is turned to me as he puts the finishing touches on our snowman.
"What's—" He inhales a sharp breath when a large ball of snow hits him on the back of the neck. Turning to face me slowly, I have a large mitten covering my mouth to hold in my laughter. "Ms. Stone, did you just hit me with a snowball?" Bending down in front of him, he begins to gather a ball of his own. "You realize this means war, right?"
"You'll have to catch me first!" I dart off in the other direction, cursing this heavy snowsuit and clunky boots of his. I don't make it far at all before Lincoln hits me right in the head, my curls that were previously curled to perfection now wet and flat. I'm laughing so hard I can barely breathe, twisting and tossing another snowball in his direction as he closes in on me.
"You missed," he says with a chuckle, and with two more steps, he pushes me down into the snow right on my back, his body crashing down on top of mine. His sheer closeness and proximity take away the chattering of my teeth almost immediately. I don't understand how he can do this, how he can make me so warm and full of lust in a matter of seconds.
Pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, he says, "I thought you were the most beautiful naked and bare underneath me, but this image right here might just top it." He tugs on the beanie of his on my head, and I erupt into another fit of giggles. "You're perfect, Sienna."
I lean up to press my lips against his, and he makes the kiss deeper, one of the mittens coming up to frame my face as he props himself up on his elbow to hold his weight. His lips are cold from the snow, but his tongue is so, so warm as it collides with mine and claims me as his. There is nothing I'm more certain of than this. I belong to him and only him.
My body squirms beneath his, and then he chuckles, resting his forehead against my shoulder. "Keep doing that, and we'll find ourselves in a very uncomfortable situation, Sienna. I don't think you want my cock to fill you in the snow."
"You don't know me at all, then," I reply breathlessly.
He groans. "You will be the utter death of me, but I refuse to let you catch hypothermia. I'll fuck you when we get home when hot water is pouring over us. Sound good?"
"Well, I was wondering if you two had left without saying goodbye, but I'm relieved to know I was wrong." Lincoln's mother stands at the foot of the driveway with her arms crossed in front of her chest, a faux fur shawl draped over her shoulders.
Lincoln smiles, dazzling her with his charm. "Sorry, we were just..."
She waves her hand. "No need to explain. We have bigger things to discuss inside. Go and get dressed in something warm. Hot chocolate will be waiting for you in the study, and when my guests leave, I'll join you both there."
Her heels click against the stone as she wanders to the tent filled with guests, and my mouth completely dries out. "Oh, god. She hates me."
He laughs. "She doesn't hate you, Sienna. I know my mother. She's irritated about something else, I just don't know what. If you were the cause, believe me when I say you would have been asked to leave. You certainly wouldn't have been invited inside for hot cocoa."
Rising from the snow, he pulls me beside him and lifts me into his arms. "Now, let's get you dressed in something warm."
"I'm capable of walking, you know," I reply, hooking my arms around his neck.
He rolls his eyes. "Please. You barely made it two feet in this snowsuit of mine before almost falling on your face. I don't need you breaking a bone on the stone driveway."
***
The study in the Nash household differs from the rest of the house. It's old and antique-like. A large cherrywood desk sits in the center of the room, with matching built-in bookcases lining the walls beside it. A fire is crackling to the left of the desk with large, high-back emerald chairs beside it. It has more of a homey feeling than the rest of the house, and after showering underneath hot water with Lincoln, I relish in the warmth of the fire curled up in one of the high-back chairs, wearing a pair of his sweatpants and an old football hoodie of his.
Estella joins us when the last of the guests leave. I sip on my hot chocolate mug as she sits in the leather chair behind the desk, carrying nothing but an aura of authority. Her face is stern, fine wrinkles seeping through the botox ever-so-slightly. "This is about your brother," she says, cutting right to the chase.
"Jett?" Lincoln asks. "What about him?"
Absently twirling the globe on the desk, she shakes her head and lets out a tiny sigh. "As you probably know, I expressed to him he wouldn't receive his share of the company until he settled down, and I approved of his partner of choice."
Lincoln nods, waiting for the ball to drop.
"I don't find it a coincidence that he seems so interested in this young woman Carmen. I assume he is using her to try and claim the company shares, regardless of the believable act he's putting on."
"I wouldn't put it past him," Lincoln replies.
Finding out this information about Jett and the shares of the company is news to me. I can't believe I ever thought that a small fraction of Jett might care for her. I should have known he'd weasel his way into her heart purely for selfish reasons, and if he was the reason she ended things with Archer...
"I need you both to investigate this further for me," she says. "I want the very best for him, as I want the best for both of my sons, but if this is all a ruse just to obtain his share of the company, I won't have it. I won't approve of her. It's time for him to grow up and find a partner. Not continue to play games."
Estella is asking both of us to spy? I won't interfere with Carmen's love life if it hurts her in the long run. What goes on between her and Jett is none of my business, but if that business means he's using her just to gain his portion of the company shares, I should tell her, right?
Lincoln eyes me heavily, scanning my face for a reaction. "I'll try to see what I can dig up on Jett. As for Carmen, that's up to Sienna. I'm not going to force her to do anything she isn't comfortable with, and neither will you."
Estella dips her head in appreciation. "I can respect that. Sienna, you can take some time to think it over, but I think it would be in your friend's best interest for you to intervene. I love my son, but I know what he's capable of. Whatever he's telling your friend isn't the truth."
"Is there a possibility he could be changing?" I ask even though I know it's impossible. "Maybe Carmen is the girl who will make a difference for him and change his ways?"
"As I said before, it's a believable act, but it's one we need to get to the bottom of to ensure others don't get hurt in the process. I need to know if what I see is the truth or a lie."
I nod sullenly as she stands from the desk and pulls Lincoln into a warm embrace, kissing him on both cheeks. "I love you, dear son." Leaning over to grasp my hand, she gives it a squeeze. "Thank you both for coming tonight. Watching the love blossom between the both of you warms my soul. It makes me miss your dad more than anything."
Clicking the door shut softly behind her, Lincoln fidgets uncomfortably in the high-back chair, the crackling of the flames filling the silence. Love. It's such a powerful word that we both know we feel for one another but haven't said it yet. Lincoln wants to wait for the perfect timing, and I get that, but it's hard for me not to say it. Even in moments like these, when we're sitting in comfortable silence with each other, the sentence is on the tip of my tongue. When I'm warm and cozy in nothing but his clothing, I want to say it a thousand times over.
"We should get back," he says, reaching over to entwine his fingers with mine. His thumb brushes against my own, eyes softening as he scans me. My knees are curled up to my chest, my head resting against the thick cushion of the chair. All of today's events have drained me, and my eyes feel like sandbags, threatening to pull me under. "You tired, baby?"
I nod, smiling lazily, when he sets my mug of hot chocolate on the table between us and lifts me into his arms. I barely hear him speaking to his driver as he drapes a heavy quilt over me and carries me into the back of the car. I'm snuggled on his lap, my head on his shoulder, and the heat from his body and the warmth of the quilt have me passing out into a much-needed sleep.