Free Snow Angels by Sabrina York Page B

women he’d ever met, she made him feel at home in his skin. Which was a gift.
    But Lyssa wasn’t done with her pronouncements. “And….” she said.
    “And?” He rubbed her shoulder in encouragement when it looked like she would rather chew on her lip than continue.
    “And Jax agrees.”

 
     
     
Chapter Eight
     
     
    Lyssa knew Wade needed time to process his emotions after their tête-à-tête. Her clients often did after a reading. And she needed time as well, to recuperate. Though the voices often flowed around her willy nilly, when she was focusing, trying to get the message exactly right, it could be exhausting. Especially when her own emotions were involved.
    Which she had to admit, they were.
    It had hurt, physically hurt, to tell Wade that Sam loved him. He deserved to know. He needed to know, so she’d done it. But it had cost her.
    For the rest of the afternoon, they agreed to go their own way. He worked in the utility room trying to start the generator, and she went back to the mound of snow blocking in his jeep. The physical activity felt good and she enjoyed watching Bo chase each shovelful of snow as she tossed it onto the growing pile. He bounded back and forth on his three legs, as facile as a dog with four, barking and snapping at the flying snow, his tail going a mile a minute. Occasionally she mistimed her tosses and doused him—which he also seemed to enjoy.
    He shook his head, grinning, tongue lolling, and then barked at her to do it again.
    She was having so much fun, it surprised her to realize dusk was falling. Reluctantly she turned back to the house…and stopped.
    Wade stood on the porch, leaning against the pillar, arms crossed, watching her. Judging from his stance and his smile, he’d been watching her for a while.
    It struck her again, his beauty…this tall handsome man. Broad shouldered and strong, with a richly hued aura; it filled the space around him. His colors were different, slightly lighter, as though a weight had lifted from his soul. Little specks of pain still peppered him, but the bitterness and the harsh tinny flavor around them had eased.
    She was happy she could have done that for him.
    He deserved some peace, after what he’d been through.
    “Are you ever coming in?” Did she imagine the petulance in his voice?
    “We’re having fun,” she sang. She bent, formed a snowball, and tossed it to Bo, who caught it unerringly. It disintegrated in his mouth so he barked at it.
    Wade laughed. “Stop teasing my dog.”
    “He likes it.” Lyssa scooped up more snow and tossed another lob at the shepherd. And then, for good measure, tossed one at Wade. He was watching Bo, so he didn’t see it coming and it hit him square in the face.
    His shock was comical. His features tightened, as though he were holding back a laugh. “Why you….” he growled. Then he leaped off the porch and tore after her.
    Lyssa dropped the shovel with a squeal and sprinted away, but the snow was too deep, so it wasn’t much of a sprint. He caught her in five long strides and whipped her up into his arms.
    “You’re going to pay for that, missy,” he said through a chuckle.
    Lyssa didn’t fret over the threat. It was too glorious, being held high in his arms. He strode toward the carport—toward the drifts they’d built and lifted her high—and dropped her.
    She sank like a stone, sputtering and howling as her butt nested deep in the drift. Snow sifted beneath her collar and into her boots and…everywhere.
    “Wade!” she wailed, floundering around like a trout. “Help me out.”
    He braced his fists on his hips and laughed.
    “Help me!”
    Bo, delighted with this new game, bounced around them barking and grinning.
    “Wade!”
    He finally relented, thrust out a hand, and made a great show of groaning and heaving as though she weighed a ton. He let go and dropped her back in more times than was strictly necessary.
    When she was finally free, she brushed the snow from her jacket,