jackknife in half like he did.
Kids also didn’t spend a day and two nights engaged in enthusiastic, gymnastic sex nonstop like he did.
Alex regretted nothing.
The big snowstorm did, indeed, give him and Sydney an excuse to stay hunkered in her house. But he was sure they would’ve manufactured an excuse, regardless. Once they started, once they broke the seal on all that pent-up lust, they couldn’t stop.
It wasn’t just the sex, though. He paused to yank off his hat and fling it like a Frisbee toward the cottage. It was Sydney’s…verve? Was that a thing? She threw herself whole-heartedly into whatever she was doing.
He’d been amazed to discover the towering stack of cookbooks. It made him apologize again for his snarky remarks on that first day. But she wasn’t just trying to learn how to make a better panini. She’d decided to learn how to really cook, balls to the wall. Judging from the more than decent pasta she made the first night, followed up by a golden and not at all burned grilled cheese for lunch that made her squeal with joy, when Sydney put her mind to getting something done, it happened.
Alex was the same way. Probably why they clicked so well. Along with a dozen other similarities that just worked between them.
And when they butted heads? Like whether or not the Halloween reboot needed to happen? She argued just as vociferously as he did for her viewpoint.
He freaking loved that she stayed strong to go toe-to-toe with him.
“Alex? What is that?” Amelia stood in the open doorway of her and Everleigh’s cottage, shoving her arms into her coat.
The base was already formed. He was deep into creation of the second ball. Plus, a carrot and two Oreos lay in the snow by his scarf. Dead giveaways. “If you don’t know, then I’m not doing it right.”
She ventured closer. Today she was as bright as the sun glinting off the two feet of snow, mounded higher in drifts along the edges of the buildings. Amelia wore red jeans with a hot pink sweatshirt, topped off with a red knit cap with a poof ball on top. “Is that…a regular snowman? Or an official, throwback apology snowman?”
Ah, so she had worked it out. And was willing to talk to him. They were off to a strong start.
“Well, it worked when we were kids. When Mom forced us to apologize and we weren’t ready to let it go, an apology snowman always fixed things. I figured it was about time to resurrect the tradition. The situation called for it.”
“Indeed.” She circled the big ball. Patted it with mossy-green mittens to test if it was sufficiently tightly packed. “But we aren’t children anymore. The snowman’s a nice gesture. I’ll need more, however.”
Yup. Exactly what Sydney had predicted when they’d talked it through.
Alex had vented. Gone into more details of their argument. And had been ready to pat himself on the back for remembering the apology snowman. He told Sydney it would smooth everything over.
She’d laughed.
Hard.
That hadn’t thrilled him.
But then Sydney pulled his head into her lap and stroked soothing, wave-like patterns through his hair. It put him in a receptive state of mind for her explanation that Amelia deserved a full-blown apology from him.
She agreed, whole-heartedly, that his sister had dropped them in the shit with this early booking. That Amelia should’ve brought it to the group before extending the offer.
However…Amelia had been hurt by his words. Saying them in the heat of the moment didn’t let Alex off the hook for apologizing.
What he’d meant, how right he was—that didn’t matter. Not when stacked up against how he’d dismissed her efforts.
And oh, how right Sydney had been.
Alex gave a final shove to the ball, then clapped his hands to get the excess snow off of his gloves. “The snowman was the lure to get you out here and talking to me.”
“Okay, so talk.”
“I’m sorry.”
She picked up the carrot. Jabbed it at him. “About?”
Alex had been rehearsing this list the whole time he’d been out here. “My tone. My choice of words. Losing my temper. Here we’d just finished a conversation about agreeing to treat each other like colleagues instead of siblings, and then I sniped at you. It was unprofessional in the extreme.”
“What about when you called me irresponsible?”
“See, here’s where I have to nitpick. Not to start a fight again, but to clear the air so we can move forward. I didn’t call you irresponsible. Because that wouldn’t be true.