Kinsley: Snowball Fight

We didn't ski on Christmas.  We considered it, but we were both feeling a little lazy (and I was awfully sore).  Instead, we played outside in the snow, complete with snow angels, a snowball fight and a snowman.

I started the snowball fight by shoving a handful of snow down the back of Damien's coat.  I'd never heard him yelp like a girl before, but he certainly did it then.  By the time he recovered enough to grab some snow, I'd taken off, and his snowball whizzed past my elbow.  "You'll have to do better than that!" I called, turning just in time to dodge a snowball headed directly towards my head.

He ran after me as I scooped up a handful of snow and sent it flying back towards him.  It hit him in the leg, which is a worthless place for a snowball to land but better than he'd done yet.  I turned and ran again, skidding around the corner of the house.  I ran awkwardly, because have you ever tried to run in two feet of snow?  It doesn't work very well.

I was bending down to make a snowball around the corner of the house when Damien suddenly grabbed me from behind and flipped me upside down so I was dangling with my face just inches from the snow.  "Give me one good reason I shouldn't give you a face full of snow," he threatened, laughing.

I was laughing too hard to give him any reason at all, much less a good one.  "Nothing?" he asked, dipping me a little lower.  "That pretty face of yours is about to get awfully cold."

"Is 'because I'm pretty' a good reason?" I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

"Hmmm," he pretended to consider, lowing me a little then pulling me back up a bit.  "No.  But I'll give you another chance."

"I can't think when I'm upside down above 2 feet of snow!" I protested.

"That sounds like your problem, not mine," Damien teased.

"Well," I said, "If you put me down, I'll make it worth your while."

"How?" he asked.

"Oh, I think you can probably figure that out."

Apparently, it was tempting enough, because he let me down without dunking my head in the snow.  I scooped up a handful of snow and chucked it at him before taking off.  He caught up to me within seconds and tackled me into the deep snow, and we wrestled in the snow until I admitted defeat.


"I feel like a kid," I said, laughing as we came inside and stomped the snow off our boots.

"So do I," Damien agreed.  "I haven't played in the snow in ages.  It was fun."  He grabbed me by the waist and kissed the tip of my cold nose.  "Your nose is pink."

"Your whole face is," I replied, grinning at him.  He laughed and drew me closer, lowering his lips to mine.  His lips, somehow, were warm against mine, and I sighed into our kiss and leaned into him.  We were both still covered in snow and wearing far too much clothing for inside, but it didn't matter.  "I love you," I said as we pulled away from each other to pull off our outerwear.  "I know I keep saying it, but this has been the best Christmas.  Thank you for spending it here with me."

"Look at you and your feelings," he teased me gently as he pulled his gloves off.  "I love you too, and I agree.  This has been really great.  I thought I might miss seeing the kids open their gifts but it's been kind of nice to just relax and not have to listen to squealing and shrieking."

"I can squeal and shriek if you want to," I said, grinning.  "You know, just to really give you that true Christmas experience."

He grinned mischievously and wiggled his eyebrows at me.  "I'll give you a Christmas experience that will make you squeal and shriek," he threatened.

I threw my glove at him, and he caught it easily.  "You're a perv," I said, shaking my head.

"You don't seem to mind," he countered, tossing the glove back to me.

"That's because I don't," I answered, rolling my eyes.  I tugged off my coat and hung it up, then wandered towards the kitchen.  Damien followed me in, then opened a cabinet and pulled out a container of hot chocolate.  "This weekend keeps getting better and better!" I exclaimed, grabbing it from him.

We made hot chocolate and started working on dinner.  I'd wanted ham, but apparently Damien isn't a fan (this is probably the only thing he won't eat), so we settled on roasting a chicken instead.  I got the chicken prepped and in the oven, then we took our hot chocolate into the living room.

We spent the rest of the day being lazy, making dinner together, and then having sex.  Again.  Though I definitely had no complaints.

We skied again all day Saturday, then did a few quick runs on Sunday morning before we left.   At my suggestion, Damien had called his mom on Saturday to see if she wanted company for Sunday dinner, which she was thrilled about.  I kind of just wanted to go home and relax in my tub with a glass of wine, but I figured the least I could do was have dinner with Damien's family after he spent the whole holiday weekend with me.  I could tell he was happy that I suggested it, so I was glad to do it.

Claire greeted us excitedly at the door.  "Come in," she said happily.  "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Claire," I replied, hugging her.  "Thanks for letting me steal your son for the weekend."

"Oh sweetheart, we missed you both, but you can steal him any time you'd like."  She glanced at him, then in an exaggerated whisper said, "I think he likes you better than us and I think it's wonderful."

"Mom," Damien said, rolling his eyes.  I laughed and Claire winked at me.

We had planned a family "Christmas" with them for the next weekend, but it hadn't stopped Claire from making a huge ham dinner with all the trimmings.  "And I made a pork chop for you," she said to Damien.  He grinned.  I was just excited to get my ham.

"I don't get why you like pork chops but not ham," I said, shaking my head.

He gave me a weird look.  "They don't taste the same at all.  They don't even look the same!  It's not like the difference between white meat chicken and dark meat.  Or a ribeye and a New York strip."

I shrugged and was about to respond when the door opened again.  "No!" came a tiny (but loud) voice.  "Uncle Damien's truck is out there.  Uncle Damien???"

"We're here, Amelia," Damien called back.

"Kinsley?" Amelia shrieked, flying around the corner and skidding to a stop in the kitchen.  She composed herself enough to walk over and fling her arms around my legs.

"Hi Amelia!" I greeted her, bending down to actually hug her.

She pulled back and looked at me with her wide eyes.  "Kinsley?  Did Santa come see you at the house in Crested Butte?  He knows where it is. He's come to see us there before."

I laughed.  "He sure did.  Did he come see you?"

She nodded, eyes still wide.  "Did he ever!" she declared, which made me laugh.  Then, just as quickly as she'd flown into the kitchen, she scrambled back out, yelling for her mom.  Luke gave her a dirty look as she scooted past him, then shook his head and rolled his eyes in a very well-practiced big brother way.

Dinner was--of course--wonderful, and we left fairly early because we were both tired.  Damien dropped me off at home and helped me bring my stuff in before he headed home for the night.  

I slept so well Sunday night that I was not even close to prepared for my alarm on Monday morning.  I almost always woke up just a little before my alarm went off, but I was sound asleep still this time.  It took me a few minutes to convince myself to get out of bed.  Once I was up, though, I was fine.

Work seemed to go pretty fast, and afterwards I met Liv and Lauren for drinks and dinner.  Kendra was supposed to come too, but she wasn't feeling well and bailed.  We got an update on Alex first, and Lauren reported that he was doing pretty well, though he was feeling a bit cooped up and was frustrated with that.

I told them about my awesome Christmas with Damien.  "It was seriously so good," I said excitedly.  "I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a holiday.  This was so much better than any holiday I ever spent with my parents."

"Were your parents upset you were gone?" Liv asked.

I snorted.  "I wasn't invited to either of their Christmases, so probably not."

"So when are you guys getting married?" Lauren asked nonchalantly.

"Sometime after we're engaged, I would imagine," I replied sarcastically.

She raised an eyebrow.  "Have you even talked about it?"

I shook my head.  "No."

Now she frowned a little.  "Don't you think that's weird?"

"No...should I?" I asked, starting to get a little irritated.

"It's been, what?  Almost a year and a half, right?  He's not getting any younger."

"Lauren!" Liv said.

"What?" she asked.  Liv just gave her a dirty look.

"Neither of us are, obviously," I replied.  "But we're both happy with the way things are.  He's probably waiting for me to bring it up, and I'm just not there yet.  But I can see myself marrying him at some point."

"Kinsley?  Getting married?  I don't believe that," came a familiar, sarcastic male voice.

My breath caught for a second as my brain processed who the voice belonged to.  I looked up, straight into Cole's eyes.