Tempting My Best Friend's Alpha Father
I can barely bend properly, but I don’t care.
The cold bites instantly, but laughter follows just as fast.
We build a snowman, arguing the entire time.
“It needs arms,” I insist.
“It does not.”
“How is it meant to wave?”
“It’s a snowman, not a politician.”
I snort, packing snow harder than necessary.
When I step back, hands on hips, I nod.
“He looks grumpy. This is the ugliest snowman I’ve ever seen,” I say, stepping back.
“It has character,” Damien replies defensively. “He looks powerful.”