Free Snow Angels by Sabrina York

expression. Slowly, realization dawned; something bubbled and spat in his gut. She wasn’t talking about just now, when she surprised him and he turned on her like a surly bear.
    She was talking about then. She was talking about Sam.
    “Lyssa—”
    She put her finger on his lips and for some reason that silenced him. He did not know why. “Wade, we have to talk about this. Sam is getting impatient.”
    He shouldn’t have laughed. It was totally inappropriate to laugh.
    “What?” she asked softly.
    “Sam was always impatient.” The words came out raw and ragged, choked by the ball in his throat. He swallowed heavily. “She…always wanted to plow right in. Never liked to wait.”
    He could see her now. The bright light of anticipation and enthusiasm on her face as she prepared for a mission. Checking her weapons, arranging her gear, and even tying up her boots. She did it all with a brash impetuosity.
    She’d approached life that way. Diving in and embracing it.
    Lyssa wrinkled her nose. “She is kinda…pushy.”
    Wade laughed again, a harsh bark. He did not know where it came from, other than the fact that “pushy” described Sam to a tee. Although it was something of an understatement.
    Warmth curled through him at the thought. The realization that Lyssa was, indeed, talking to Sam. That somewhere in the mists of the universe, a part of his lover remained.
    And she was still pushy.
    Pushy to the death, and beyond.
    He let Lyssa lead him to the sofa. Sat next to her and allowed her to curl up at his side. He stretched his arm around her and held her close.
    “Are you ready to talk about it?” She peeped up at him through the veil of her lashes. He had the sense she was gauging him, analyzing some unseen energy swirling around him.
    “No.”
    Lyssa smiled. “She’s not going to give up until she has her say.” Lyssa tipped her head to the side, as though she were listening, and then added, “She says she wants to get the last word.”
    Wade’s heart stopped and then set up a frantic tattoo. If he’d had any doubts this was really Sam—that she was here —they fled. “S-she always did want the last word.”
    “Also, she was always right.” This Lyssa added with a deadpan expression, although he could tell from the glint in her eyes, she knew Sam was goading him.
    He snorted. “That’s debatable.”
    “No.” Lyssa grinned. “She says it’s not.”
    “God, I miss her.” It swamped him then, the ache, the regret, but also the memories, happy ones of a passionate pair. Her voice, her scent, and her cocky grin. The sharp bite of her wit. All fading, but forever a part of him.
    “She wants to tell you what happened that day.”
    “I know what happened that day.”
    “You don’t.”
    “I know it’s my fault she died.”
    Lyssa shook her head. The soft strands of her hair brushed his arm. He shivered. “She says you’re an idiot.”
    “What?” He did not intend to squawk like a parrot.
    Again Lyssa listened to a voice only she could hear. “You’re overbearing, stubborn, and you think far too much of yourself.”
    “She’s saying that?”
    Holy crap . That did sound like Sam.
    “And it’s not your fault, so get over it.” Lyssa narrowed her eyes. “And she really stresses that part. Get over it, Dipwad.”
    Wade nearly swallowed his tongue. Sam had only called him Dipwad when she was really ticked.
    “I sent her out there—”
    “She was doing her job.”
    “I kept Bo.”
    “She’s glad you did. There…she says there’s no way Bo could have saved her. But she’s happy he saved you. She…told him to save you.”
    “How…?”
    “She was already dead.”
    Bold. Raw. Naked words.
    “She was—?”
    “She died in the first blast. She says it was her fault. Not yours. So…” Lyssa dropped her voice to a whisper. “Get over it Dipwad.”
    Wade had never really wanted to know, never dared contemplate what had happened on the other side of the canyon while he’d been