riding.”
The shed was only five hundred yards or so from the house, but the journey through the brisk air and deep snow seemed endless. The shed door was open and the pungent smell of gasoline struck us as we entered.
Dalton was leaning over one of the snowmobiles with a gasoline can in his hand. He lowered the can and straightened at the sound of our footsteps. He was only wearing jeans, a thin olive colored military jacket over a black t-shirt and gloves, a style that suited him perfectly and only made him that much more appealing. The one concession he’d made to admit that it was as cold as the Arctic outside was a black beanie on his head.
He grinned at Ethan who was bundled nearly as much as me. “Have you got enough layers of fluff on, Buddy? I thought we were racing.”
“I can race just fine in this snow gear and at least I’ll still have my ba—” Ethan stopped and looked over at me, “my toes after I’m done burying you with my snow wake.”
I laughed. “A snow wake?”
Ethan shrugged. “Thought it was clever.”
A phone buzzed and Dalton fished it out of his pocket. He read the text. “Whooee,” he said with a deep chuckle and quickly texted back a message before returning the phone to his pocket.
“So, I guess word is out and you’ve already got all the available girls in town sexting with you.” Ethan attempted to sound annoyed, but there was a hint of admiration in his tone.
“Nah, not all of them. Just five or six. I don’t think word of my return has reached every corner of town yet.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Then I stand corrected.”
Dalton shifted his focus to me. “What about you, you sweet little ball of quilted down, are you sure you still want to race?”
“I trudged all the way out here, didn’t I?” In the house I’d reminded myself not to get so discombobulated by his gaze but all mental sticky notes had come unstuck. I did manage a chin thrust though. “Let’s fire these machines up.” Even though I hadn’t been on a snowmobile in a few years, I was fairly confident about my riding skills. Of course I was also pretty sure that my brothers had always gone easy on me.
Dingy, slightly scratched goggles did not dim the brilliance of the crystal white landscape, and once we’d reached the clearing where we could really open up, I laughed at the exhilaration of it all. Even though we’d all agreed not to get too crazy because the helmets had been packed away in the basement, Dalton and Ethan had shot ahead in true testosterone-driven, competitive male style, but I’d felt the need to get used to the machine beneath me.
An occasional blinding ray of sunlight glanced off the frozen ground as my thumb pressed the throttle. The snowmobile was larger and more powerful than I was used to, and I was having too much fun flying along through the blankets of snow to worry about any blustery threats I’d made earlier.
The physical challenge of maneuvering a heavy snowmobile over the rough landscape warmed me up instantly. I squinted through the goggles. Dalton was ahead of Ethan. The two front skis of his snowmobile lifted off the snow, and he balanced solely on the back track as he rode a wheelie up the steep incline of a hill. So much for not getting too crazy. His injury might have slowed him on two feet, but it seemed to have no effect now.
Both brothers disappeared over the ridge, and I squeezed the throttle to catch up to them. If there was an incline then a decline had to follow, and I was feeling confident enough on the snowmobile to pick up speed.
The front skis came up off the surface for a moment as the snowmobile reached the peak and then I found myself staring down a much sharper decline than I’d expected. Ethan’s machine fishtailed behind him as he pressed the throttle in an attempt to push past Dalton. But it was futile. His brother rode wildly ahead over the mounds of snow.
I flew down the icy slope and pressed the throttle even harder. I
The shed was only five hundred yards or so from the house, but the journey through the brisk air and deep snow seemed endless. The shed door was open and the pungent smell of gasoline struck us as we entered.
Dalton was leaning over one of the snowmobiles with a gasoline can in his hand. He lowered the can and straightened at the sound of our footsteps. He was only wearing jeans, a thin olive colored military jacket over a black t-shirt and gloves, a style that suited him perfectly and only made him that much more appealing. The one concession he’d made to admit that it was as cold as the Arctic outside was a black beanie on his head.
He grinned at Ethan who was bundled nearly as much as me. “Have you got enough layers of fluff on, Buddy? I thought we were racing.”
“I can race just fine in this snow gear and at least I’ll still have my ba—” Ethan stopped and looked over at me, “my toes after I’m done burying you with my snow wake.”
I laughed. “A snow wake?”
Ethan shrugged. “Thought it was clever.”
A phone buzzed and Dalton fished it out of his pocket. He read the text. “Whooee,” he said with a deep chuckle and quickly texted back a message before returning the phone to his pocket.
“So, I guess word is out and you’ve already got all the available girls in town sexting with you.” Ethan attempted to sound annoyed, but there was a hint of admiration in his tone.
“Nah, not all of them. Just five or six. I don’t think word of my return has reached every corner of town yet.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Then I stand corrected.”
Dalton shifted his focus to me. “What about you, you sweet little ball of quilted down, are you sure you still want to race?”
“I trudged all the way out here, didn’t I?” In the house I’d reminded myself not to get so discombobulated by his gaze but all mental sticky notes had come unstuck. I did manage a chin thrust though. “Let’s fire these machines up.” Even though I hadn’t been on a snowmobile in a few years, I was fairly confident about my riding skills. Of course I was also pretty sure that my brothers had always gone easy on me.
Dingy, slightly scratched goggles did not dim the brilliance of the crystal white landscape, and once we’d reached the clearing where we could really open up, I laughed at the exhilaration of it all. Even though we’d all agreed not to get too crazy because the helmets had been packed away in the basement, Dalton and Ethan had shot ahead in true testosterone-driven, competitive male style, but I’d felt the need to get used to the machine beneath me.
An occasional blinding ray of sunlight glanced off the frozen ground as my thumb pressed the throttle. The snowmobile was larger and more powerful than I was used to, and I was having too much fun flying along through the blankets of snow to worry about any blustery threats I’d made earlier.
The physical challenge of maneuvering a heavy snowmobile over the rough landscape warmed me up instantly. I squinted through the goggles. Dalton was ahead of Ethan. The two front skis of his snowmobile lifted off the snow, and he balanced solely on the back track as he rode a wheelie up the steep incline of a hill. So much for not getting too crazy. His injury might have slowed him on two feet, but it seemed to have no effect now.
Both brothers disappeared over the ridge, and I squeezed the throttle to catch up to them. If there was an incline then a decline had to follow, and I was feeling confident enough on the snowmobile to pick up speed.
The front skis came up off the surface for a moment as the snowmobile reached the peak and then I found myself staring down a much sharper decline than I’d expected. Ethan’s machine fishtailed behind him as he pressed the throttle in an attempt to push past Dalton. But it was futile. His brother rode wildly ahead over the mounds of snow.
I flew down the icy slope and pressed the throttle even harder. I
Similar Books
