“Last one to the bottom buys dinner,” Burke Deveraux shouted as he started down the ski slope.
Showoff. Jules shoved his sunglasses into place and accepted his cousin’s challenge despite his head start. Everyone knew Burke was the best skier in the family, but he wasn’t perfect. Jules had won a challenge last week and he was still patting himself on the back about it.
With the girls already safely at the bottom, he bent his knees slightly and gave himself over to the speed. Somewhere behind him on the mountain he heard André and Laurent laughing. No doubt his eldest brother wasn’t far behind. The five of them had always been competitive. And the slopes were just one more area where they battled for bragging rights.
Biting cold hit him square in the face as he raced past a grove of trees. With Burke firmly in his sights, he leaned forward and gave a battle cry.
“Yer goin’ down,” he called. His cousin didn’t respond. Instead, he wove his big body through a maze of trees and disappeared.
What the –?
“Move it, Jules!” Laurent said, almost passing him on the left.
Their shoulders bumped. “Yer gonna get us killed,” Jules growled, using his elbow to push Laurent away. Wind whistled by his ears and his skis clanked together. Wobbling atop the snow-slicked toothpicks, his stomach knotted. He was going down.
Summoning his innate grace he straightened and rebalanced. Laurent laughed. No sooner had they separated than André zoomed between them like a rocket on skis.
“Not cool, mon frère!” Jules called, dodging a rock the size of a Porsche. Out of nowhere, Burke appeared overhead, soaring through the air. Snow rained down. Chuckling, he landed on Jules’ left and kept pace.
“Show off.”
Jules banked right toward a straight section and let gravity do the work. Adrenaline rushing, he dared a quick look over his shoulder. Burke was gone again. No doubt barreling through the woods like a crazy backwoodsman.
“Woohoo!” That sounded like Laurent’s voice, but Jules didn’t dare turn around again. He had André in his sights. But the landing was coming quick.
At least he wouldn’t be buying dinner. Not that he minded, but he didn’t like to lose. Ever. The row of buildings came into view as he rounded a grove of trees. Burke shot through them and darted in front. Five figures waved up at them. Even from one hundred yards away he could pick out his fiancé. Happy, golden haired, drop-dead gorgeous.
With his focus on Angelica he didn’t hear Laurent approach until it was too late. His cousin gave him a playful push. Completely off balance, his skis, poles, arms and legs tangled and he cartwheeled across the snow. Even over the impact, the thud of his body making contact with the earth and the clank of ski-against-ski, he heard Angelica’s cry of alarm.
“Typical,” he muttered, as he pushed himself up. No damage done, except to his pride of course. Being the youngest, he was used to getting picked on. The fact that he stood shoulder to shoulder with everyone but Burke hadn’t made a difference in the pranks.
But Jules was nothing if not good natured about it. Heaven knew he’d played plenty of tricks on Laurent in the past. But that didn’t stop him from giving Laurent a ‘payback’s a bitch’ look.
By the time Jules pulled up in front of the Pack, André already had Juliette in his arms. They kissed like they’d been apart for years, rather than minutes.
“Get a room,” he called before bending over to remove his skis.
At the whooshing sound, he turned to see Sebastian coming in dead last. Not because of any lack of ski ability. No. The Alpha thought it his place to buy dinner.
“You big brute,” Angel ground out.
Before Jules could react she’d whacked Laurent in the nose. Given the size difference, she couldn’t have done much damage but Jules pulled her close anyway. Mouthwateringly sexy in a knee length sweater dress, he let his hand roam over her curves before settling an arm around her waist.
“Hey, hey. Let me fight my own battles, mon amour.” He brushed as chaste a kiss as he could manage across her lips. She smelled like vanilla and tasted like strawberries.
She had tears in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. He didn’t blame her for being protective of him. After all, he felt the same way.
“Ouch.” Laurent grasped his nose, but Jules could see he was playing up his injuries. His deep brown eyes sparkled over at Jules.
Though it seemed like ages ago, in reality only five months had passed since he’d been shot by her ex-boyfriend. Bastard. His gentle, artistic Angelica had witnessed the violence first hand. Sometimes he still saw her gaze cloud over and knew she was thinking about that moment and then the scary hours afterward.
“Serves you right,” Violet said, her brilliant blue eyes glowing beneath dark, perfectly arched brows.