He let the snowball fly with all the momentum of an outfielder aiming to cut off a base runner, feeling the sing of muscle as it left his hand. Travis darted to the side, just out of the line of fire, and Brandon watched with horror as the snowball hurtled by him and slammed against the head of the brunette at the picnic table.
She squeaked in surprise and dropped the phone.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered.
Slowly, oh so slowly, her shoulders dropped from the defensive hunch and she turned her head—hoodless now—to look at Travis. His eyes were round as saucers and he was already pointing back toward Brandon. She shifted her attention, and Brandon found himself snared by a pair of gorgeous brown eyes, slitted with temper.
Wow. For a moment, that was all he could think. Now there’s a fac
e a man could get lost in. Then his brain re-engaged and he was striding across to her, spewing apology. “I am so sorry. I wasn’t aiming at you. I was aiming for him, and the coward moved, and I—”
“Stop right there,” she said, lifting a hand like a traffic cop.
Brandon did.
The woman brushed the snow from the long fall of her hair. She flicked a glance at Travis, who’d retrieved her phone and now held it out like a peace offering. Ignoring him, she bent. At first, Brandon thought she was picking up the stylus, but instead she began to gather together snow. His lips twitched, but he held his ground. He’d totally earned whatever payback she was about to dish out.
She dug deep, clearing away the light, fresh powder for the wetter snow beneath. When she had a mass approximately the size of a small cantaloupe, she took two steps forward and hurled it. From a mere six feet away, the ball splattered against the fleece beneath Brandon’s open parka. Cold, wet shrapnel struck him in the face but did nothing to erase the smile. He had to appreciate a woman with a finely-tuned sense of revenge.
Retaliation delivered, his inadvertent victim briskly knocked snow off her mittens and turned back to Travis to collect her phone. “Thank you,” she said politely.
Travis, face as sober as a judge, sketched a slight bow. “I do apologize. Under normal circumstances, I’d never choose self-preservation over a lady, but I just didn’t see you.”
“Accidents happen,” she said equably. “You weren’t the one pretending you were ten.” She slanted a glance back at Brandon.
“Quite right. I’m the grown up, who is—” he checked his watch, “going to be very late for work.”
“You and me both,” she said.
Travis paused, his desire to reassert his chivalry apparently over-riding his internal clock. “Oh, can I give you a ride or something?”
“No, you go,” said Brandon stepping up to make his own effort at chivalry. “You’re already late. If the lady needs a lift, I’ll do it. I’m the one not on a time clock.” He offered the woman a smile. “It’s the least I can do.”
“I can vouch that he’s not a lunatic,” Travis told her. “And he’s had all his shots.”
“I’m even housebroken,” Brandon added.
The corner of her mouth quirked at that, but she shook her head. “I’ll provide my own lift, thanks, just as soon as my friend gets back with the keys.”
With a silent wave, Travis trudged toward the parking lot. Brandon’s attention was solidly on Miss Brown Eyes. “Then at least let me buy you a cup of coffee or cocoa while you wait.”
“Now that I’ll take you up on.”
He made an after you gesture toward the refreshment pavilion. As she walked, her attention immediately zeroed in on the phone.
“It’s not damaged, is it?” he asked, falling into step beside her.
“No. Battery’s nearly zapped, though.” A thread of anxiety laced her voice.
Tech addict on the verge of losing her fix? he wondered. “They don’t last as well in the cold.”
“Neither do I.” A shiver underscored the statement. He realized she looked half-frozen, a state of affairs certainly not improved by snowball assault.
“Well, I can do something about that, at least.” Brandon shrugged out of his parka and draped it around her shoulders.
She jolted. “I can’t take your coat.”
“One of us dressed for this weather,” he said, stepping up to the window. “Coffee or cocoa?”