Page 267 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
The entire cabin smells like cinnamon, pine, vanilla candles, and cookies.
It’s warm. Beautiful. Perfect.
And somehow? The most adorable thing in the entire cabin is Daltyn.
The Green Mountain Avalanche goalie is currently bouncing with excitement while trying to act casual about it.
Which means he’s failing miserably.
“You’re being weird,” I inform him while laughing into my coffee.
“I’m not.”
“You’ve checked the window twelve times.”
“That’s objectively false.”
“You literally ran to the window five minutes ago.”
His mouth twitches. “That was unrelated.”
“Mhmm.”
Suspicion blooms inside me. Especially when he suddenly stands and holds out a black scarf.
My eyes narrow. “What’s that?”
“Put it on.”
I stare at him.
“Daltyn Guyer,” I say slowly. “Are you trying to murder me on Christmas?”
A laugh escapes him.
God. I still love that sound.
“No murders today, baby.”
“Comforting.” But I let him tie the scarf gently over my eyes anyway.
Darkness surrounds me.
Then warm hands settle on my hips.
“Careful,” he murmurs softly while guiding me toward the door.
Snow crunches beneath my boots seconds later. Cold winter air kisses my cheeks.
“What are you doing?” I laugh.
“You ask too many questions.”
“You’re suspiciously cheerful.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
I snort.
