Right.
Weird night.
“Go away!” Mark shouted toward the direction of the stairs. He tucked his face back into my neck.
“Mark,” I whispered. “Who is that?”
“My annoying-as-crap little sister.”
My eyes flew open. “What?” I squeaked quietly. “Megan is here?”
“Apparently.”
His hard-as-a-rock body was curled at my back and warmer than a stove. My nose felt nippy with cold, but the rest of me was toasty. An obscure white glow seemed to fill the world outside.
“I haven't even seen my gladiator yet, Mark,” Megan called, sounding closer now. “I came to say hi to you first because Justin says you've been whining about how much attention you're not getting.”
Panic woke me the rest of the way. I tried to shove him off the bed before Megan came up here and found us like this. What a great introduction that would make. When I yanked the covers over my head, Mark chortled.
“Mark!” I hissed. “She can't find us like this! She'll—”
He laughed then, a deep, rolling timbre that cut all the way to my bones. “Point made,” he called to Megan, having mercy on me. “You win two best-sister-ever points. Go see your gladiator and come back. I'll be awake by then.”
A long silence passed where I remained frozen, ready to leap out of bed, before Megan grumbled something about getting stuff from her car first and the door shut with a thud behind her. Mark growled, hooked an arm around me, and pulled me back down.
“She'll be a while,” he murmured against my neck. “They haven't seen each other in like three days so they’re going to pretend as if it’s been a year and makeout forever.”
My defenses were low this early, and before coffee, so I gave in to the warm lure of his arms and sank back to the covers. He yanked them back over us and snuggled close again. His warm breath caressed my neck in a gesture that felt like an embrace itself. With a sigh, I relished the feeling of his arms around me and heat on a frosty morning. What had I been missing all these years?
This. All of this.
Mark hummed when I absently ran the tips of my fingers across his growing stubble. It prickled gently.
“Did you know she was coming?” I asked.
He shook his head. He still hadn't even opened his eyes. The relaxed contours of his face were more wrinkled in the morning but somehow gentler. Calmer. More at ease and . . . normal.
“Do you think—”
“She'll love you,” he immediately said.
“I wasn't worried about that.”
“Good.” He rolled slightly away to yawn. “Some people are scared of Meg at first, or maybe just the reputation for being a bad-ass that precedes her, but she's really chill. Maybe protective, but chill.”
His comfort wasn't working. Until he'd said something, I hadn't felt that nervous about it. But now I wondered if I should. Before I could dive too far into that thought, he kicked the blankets off. Chilly air replaced the lovely warmth we'd been snuggling in and I fought off a scowl. If Mark saw me protesting, he'd probably burrow back in for the next hour, refuse to let me go, and then Megan would really have a great first impression of me.
“C'mon,” he yawned, a hand held out. “I'll make the coffee. Let's get this over with.”
With that ominous thought, I trailed above Mark down the ladder and into a mostly-warm cabin.
Certainly wasn't as cold as last night, but still chilly. A blanket of fog lay on the world outside. The storm had moved on not long ago, leaving wisps of fog clinging to the canyon walls. Scudding clouds crossed a low gray sky. Wet snow bowed tree branches to the ground.
Not far away, out the window over the sink, I caught a glimpse of a woman in black yoga pants, furry boots, and a head of dark brown hair jump into Justin's waiting arms. He caught her and whirled them both around in a sparkling eddy of falling snow. Atticus bounded happily through the drifts around them, barking.
That adorable reunion calmed the tension that still clung to my ribs with tenacious fingers. Although the mountain lion was the most likely culprit for Atticus's late-night barking session, in my mind I hadn't been able to rule Joshua out entirely.
Mark yawned every thirty seconds as he puttered around, built the fire back up and fired up the coffee machine. I stumbled around coffee cups and pods and tried to pull my thoughts together.
A quick warm shower, a new set of clothes, and pulling my hair out of my face did wonders to restore my brain. When I emerged from the bathroom, Mark had some semblance of humanity restored to his face. He didn't wake up well most days. This sleepy, cozy morning seemed even harder to untangle from, and I wished we could have snuggled in bed all morning.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the back door opened. A snowy Atticus bounded by, shaking snow all over the place. Justin followed, his arm wrapped around the girl that must be Megan.
She ripped a white snow hat off her head as she entered, saw me standing in the bathroom doorway, and smiled. Vestiges of Mark lived in her eyes, and JJ in her face shape. She had his sculpted cheekbones, but Mark's spark of vivacity.
“You must be the infamous Stella Marie,” she said.
Something cold came into my stomach at that, but I played it off with a smile. “Infamous?” My eyes widened. “That sounds ominous.”
She laughed but didn't release Justin. Or, more aptly, he didn't release her. They stood in the hallway
