She squeezed it, loving the feel of it, the calm strength of it. “We will.”
“When?”
She didn’t want to spoil this precious time with Mimi and Fletcher. Avoiding his eyes, she said, “Soon.”
His handsome face filled with admonishment. “You said that last night after we got back from Jeff’s.”
“And I meant it. But I was so tired from the day’s events, I passed out. Sorry.”
Harry eyeballed her, and it was full of his skepticism. “No. You’re avoiding.”
She gave him a shy smile. “And I’m good, right?”
“So good I almost believed you were actually passed out last night when I got into bed—or not.”
She’d feigned sleep when Harry had finally stopped trying to figure out what the note meant and whom it was from and had come to bed. He hadn’t pushed about her meeting with the council, just gathered her in his arms and stroked her hair until she’d fallen into a fitful sleep.
She loved that he’d come to her room without hesitation, as if their lovemaking hadn’t been only rise-of-the-full-moon related. Whatever the reason, she’d treasure that memory. It was clear, strong, and easy to recall how he held her like no other man before him.
If she had the power to freeze that one moment in time with him—stay in his arms forever, she’d have made it so. “I had a headache.”
“You had avoidance aches.”
Mara sighed, refusing to spoil this day. “Listen, you haven’t seen Mimi and Fletcher in days. They need to see you. They need to spend time with you, and you need to focus on them, nothing else. Everything’s going to go to hell in a handbasket when the police start questioning the connections between Jeff and us. For the moment, while it’s quiet, let’s just let everything go and have some fun. Okay? I promise I’ll tell you everything tonight.”
Harry smiled his beautiful, fabulous, heart-wrenching smile. “Swear it?”
Mara crossed her heart over her oversized down jacket. “On my Dr. Who DVDs.”
Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, hauling her to him, his smile full of amusement. “You watch Dr. Who?”
“All while I drool over the TARDIS.”
“God, you’re hot,” he mumbled before he lowered his lips to hers, claiming them in a kiss that made her toes curl.
Laughter from the doorway made them both break apart in guilt.
“Uncle Harry’s kissing Mara—so gross!” Fletcher shouted before hiding his embarrassment by running at Harry and grabbing onto his forearm, burying his face in it. Harry pumped his arm up and down while Fletcher clung to it and laughed.
Mimi’s eyebrow was comically raised, her tone sassy. “Do you loooovvee Uncle Harry, Miss Mara?”
Mara scooped her up, swinging her in a circle to the tune of more raucous giggles. “I love that we’re going tubing! So how about a lot less talk and a whole lot more snow, huh?”
Mimi’s face lit up, her angelic features full of chubby delight when Mara hauled her upward and wrapped her legs around her waist. “Last one to the top of the hill smells like Uncle Harry’s stinky socks!” she hollered, taking off out of the bedroom with Mimi still in her arms.
She bolted out the front door into the cold, clear day, Harry’s and Fletcher’s laughter just behind her, filling her soul.
* * *
MIMI latched on to Mara’s hand as they made their way back up the winding hill to grab another tube for one last trip down. Snow crunched beneath their feet, Mimi’s purple boots, courtesy of Marty, made Mara smile. “Are you having fun, Mimi?”
Mimi bobbed her head, her grin wide; her cheeks dusted a healthy red from the cold air. “Can we have hot chocolate and marshmallows again when we go inside?”
Mara tugged at one of her springy curls poking from beneath the purple hat Auntie Nina bought specifically for this tubing occasion. “Wouldn’t miss it. You can help me make it. But remember, I like lots of marshmallows. So no skimping,” she teased.
Wanda’s excited scream as she whipped past Harry and Fletcher, racing the pair on her tube, echoed in her ears.
Archibald, in his comical combination of red galoshes, hat with earmuffs, and stately black manservant uniform, chided Wanda for being so competitive with the shake of his finger until she began throwing snowballs at him.
“Miss Wanda, I fear I must exact revenge upon you! Duck, Sir Fletcher! Bombs away!” he shouted his devilish delight, landing a snowball in the middle of Wanda’s back.
Mimi stopped walking, watching the four engage in an all-out snowball fight. Yet her mind was still somewhere else. With Donna. “My mom used to make hot chocolate for us when it snowed. I miss Mommy. Daddy, too,” she whispered as though it were a secret she’d kept to herself and she was embarrassed to say the words out loud.