Page 106 of Go Back to December

Three glass domes nestle against the white hills that slope down to the lake. White lights frame the outlines of the interlocking glass panels. They sparkle in the snow.

I step closer to Baz. “They look like igloos.”

“But far more sustainable,” Peter says.

Annabel nods. “The resort commissioned them for vacation rentals. They’re fitted out like a cabin suite. When you’re lying on the bed, you can see the stars.”

Swells of music rise from the lakeside pavilion. The concert is about to kick off. Anticipation makes the carnival snacks sink like stones in my stomach.

“Oh, hurry.” Sofia jogs. “I want to be close to the stage.”

Luiza and Annabel fall in behind Sofia. Peter glances back at me and Baz with his subdued smile. I move to follow, but Baz tugs me back against the railing, his eyes on the igloos.

“Stop thinking it,” I warn him.

His body bends toward mine. “There was mention of a bed.”

“It’s also a giant glass fishbowl everyone can see in.”

“We’ll turn out the lights.”

I retreat, putting distance between us. “I want to go to the concert.”

“Melody.”

My knees waver as he stalks toward me. “Once we get back to the cabin, there is zero chance of privacy.”

The music from the pavilion fades, and an MC offers a greeting.

“We’re missing it!”

Baz clasps my waist and rises over me, surrounding me in his coat. I clasp the lapels with shaking hands.

He curses. “You’re cold.”

Thank God. “Let’s go warm up and listen to some terrible music.”

“Or we could head back to the cabin before everyone else and warm up in a more conventional manner.”

He leans in to nibble my neck, but I rear back and seize his arm. “A couple of songs and then we can bail.”

“One song.”

“Two.” My voice wobbles with extra emphasis, and he swears as he pulls me to his side and marches toward the concert hall.

I reward him with a snuggle. “You’ve been on your knee for a while; it will be good to rest it.”

“It’s a lot better. Probably because I wasn’t doing much of anything the last few days.”

This is hard to believe. Baz is always occupied with something.

“I wasn’t doing much either. Except regretting some of my life choices.” I pause so I can look him in the eye and say, “I’m sorry about how I left. And for doubting that your feelings for me were as big and real as mine are for you.”

His throat works a swallow. “That’s really is why you came? It wasn’t just about work?”

In a few minutes, he’ll get his answer. I’ll be broadcasting it to the entire lake.

“Melody?”