A Summer With Snow (Frosted Seasons #1) Read Free

box.”
    I feel him flinch as I press my fingers deeper into his bicep.
    “It wasn’t just letters, Snow, she sent you photos, photos of us, at Christmas, on birthdays, pictures of Hooper and me growing up. We thought you cared… Why bother to come back now? Why bother to come back at all? It’s too late, they’re dead and buried.”
    His head tilts my way.
    “I had no choice, I had to come back.”
    “So it wasn’t out of the goodness of your heart then?” I snap.
    “I loved you all,” he tells me, though there is no empathy in his voice. “I sent blank cheques monthly, but not one was cashed.”
    “You don’t get it, do you?” My voice breaks. “It was you we wanted, not your damn money.”
    Snow looks away and throws the ball again, which spins up from the wall. As he lifts his hand to catch it, I reach in front, grabbing it before he has the chance.
    “Damn it, Snow, you don’t listen!” I yell, launching the ball with speed.
    Hooper’s bark makes us both jump, and my wine spills onto the carpet. He bounds off the settee, pushing between us as the ball ricochets off the TV stand at the far end of the room. Hooper leaps into the air. My mouth drops open as he catches the tennis ball perfectly between his teeth. Tail wagging, he trots over to Snow and drops the ball at his side. He pants, looking like he’s grinning at us. Did he know what to do all along, and was just waiting for the right moment?
    “Way to go, boy!” Snow ruffles the long fur on the side of Hooper’s face with both hands.
    Snow’s praise brings with it my tears. As he turns his head towards me, I lift my arm and dip my face into it.
    “Darc…” he mutters, taking my shoulder and squeezing it softly between his fingers.
    I jerk away.
    “You just don’t fucking get it.” I bite down on my bottom lip. I very rarely swear, but in the short time Snow has been home, I feel he brings out the worst in me.
    “Get what?” His face scrunches and he sits up on his knees, staring directly into my eyes.
    My stomach is in knots. I can’t hold back any longer, he needs to know.
    “I love you, damn it!” I cry out. “I’ve always loved you. I’ve waited all these years to tell you, for you to come back, and now that you have…” I shake my head. “I don’t know … it’s just not what my dreams let me see. You’re not the person I thought you were. You’re not what I imagined you to be.”
    He frowns. “For fuck’s sake, Darc, this is madness! You’re my sister!”
    The creases in his brows relax; I see his eyes drop and watch as they wander over me. This isn’t the way a brother looks at his sister.
    His eyes flash back to meet mine.
    “You were a kid when I left.”
    “I wasn’t a kid,” I hiss, “I was nearly thirteen years old, and you can get it out of your head that I’m your sister, ‘cause I’m not. You were fostered, I was adopted, there aren’t any blood ties. We spent six weeks together, one long summer, which I’ve never been able to forget.”
    Tears spill more freely onto my cheeks, but I don’t want him to see me cry, to see my tears, so I bow my head further, burying my face into the palms of my hands in an attempt to muffle my sobs.
    “Come on then, Darc, tell me how you feel, say it again.”
    His fingers pinch the flesh of my arms, making me jump. He lifts me off the floor and pushes me back into the cushions of the settee.
    He leans over me; I jerk my head so our faces are close enough that our noses are almost touching.
    “I love you! I love you! Is that what you want to hear?” I shout into his face.
    His fingers move from my arm and squash my cheeks. My mouth contorts, and I tremble as the roughness of his face brushes against mine. My body temperature rises as I breathe in the pungent scent of his musky aftershave. Warm lips come to rest on my ear; I feel their dampness as they open.
    “Liar, Darcy, you talk shit,” he whispers.
    I turn so that his face can’t escape mine.
    “No,