The pickup lurched and we were off. Laughter spilled out of me. Despite the seat belts, we were jostled around. I gripped the dashboard and the handle on the door as Aiden spun and floored the pickup around the hilltop. At one point, he hit an icy patch between two hills that must’ve been left over from a freeze-thaw cycle a couple of months ago and the pickup swung around.

His laugh mingled with mine. Then he floored it back up the hill and we bounded to the top. He put it in park. We were both breathing faster even though the pickup had done all the work.

“Wanna try it?” he asked.

My mouth dropped open. “Can I?” I’d never been irresponsible behind the wheel. Ever.

This was different. We were contained. The hills in this pasture rolled gently and there were no cattle here during the winter. Dawson didn’t move cattle out here until the spring.

“Just stick to the high points. The snow gathers in the low areas. If you get stuck, I’ll gladly take the fall, but if you can prevent Dawson and the others from giving me eternal shit, I’d appreciate it.”

I grinned and clicked out of my seat belt.

“And, Kate.” His voice had dropped to the growl I was getting to know really well. He hooked his arm over the steering wheel to face me. I met his dark gaze. “When you’re done, I plan on having you again.”

“Out here?” In broad daylight?

“We’re so far out, not even cattle can see us.”

“Then let me in the driver’s seat so we can get to the fun stuff.”

Aiden

No matter how often I experienced it, I couldn’t believe how different Christmas morning was as an adult. Dawson put his most requested french toast bake in the oven on a timer, then he and Bristol went out to do chores. I joined him for a couple of hours, then came back and cleaned up.

I was working at the table by the time he and Bristol returned. Kate was curled up on the couch, reading. She’d fashioned a book cover out of a paper bag to hide any illicit images. She’d gotten the idea from a craft project the library had offered teens for their own books and textbooks.

Bristol and Dawson were still in their bedroom, so I peered over my computer. “Chicken.” When she looked at me, I lifted my chin to indicate her book.

A faint blush dusted her cheeks, and her lips quirked. She slipped the cover off to reveal a shadowy image with a frightened-looking woman. “It’s a thriller I borrowed from Sophie and I wanted to protect the outside. I don’t just use them when my husband sends me books with naughty things on the front.”

“Your husband might have to do that again.”