Maxx snorted. “I can tell you’re from the South. Aubrey, this is nothing. I’ve driven in worse weather than this,” he placated.

“Not with me, you haven’t,” I muttered, and Maxx laughed, though he did slow down considerably, much to my relief.

A few minutes later, he parked along a nondescript residential street.

“Where are we?” I asked, surprised when Maxx got out of the car. He came around to my side and held the door open for me to get out. He tilted my chin up and softly kissed my mouth, cold, wet snow mixing with the heat of his lips.

“You’ll see,” he said, his eyes dancing. He went around to the trunk and popped it open.

“Put these on,” he said, handing me a clunky pair of black snow boots.

“No way will these fit me,” I scoffed, holding them up by their laces.

“Just tighten up the straps on the sides. They’ll be fine,” Maxx assured me, leaning down to put on his own pair of boots.

I did as he asked and took off my sneakers and handed them to Maxx, who tossed them into the trunk. I slid my feet into the boots, which were easily five sizes too big. I tightened the laces and buckled the straps on the sides as much as I was able to, though I knew I still looked ridiculous.

I put my hands on my hips and gave him an irritated scowl. “Are you going to explain why you’re having me dress like Bozo the Clown?” I asked.

Maxx handed me a thermos while he grabbed two final items from his car. He had obviously come prepared.

“Sleds?” I asked incredulously.

Maxx tucked the two red plastic sleds under his arm and smiled sweetly.

“Yep, these are sleds,” he teased.

He slammed the trunk closed and cocked his head in the direction of a wooded path between two houses. “Come on.”

I clomped after Maxx in the snow, which had already accumulated up to my ankles. Walking in Maxx’s boots slowed me down considerably, and he had to stop periodically to allow me to catch up. He led me down a small lane that cut through a shaded group of trees.

I could hear laughing and yelling off in the distance. We broke through the trees to find ourselves at the back end of a subdivision. Behind the row of houses was a steep incline that ended at a soccer pitch at the bottom.

The place was teeming with kids. Obviously, the schools had been dismissed early because of the snow, and most of the local children had congregated at the most epic sledding hill I had ever seen.

“This is where you wanted to take me?” I asked Maxx, looking up at him in astonishment. By this point, I should have given up on being surprised by anything Maxx did. But I couldn’t reconcile the man I had come to know with the person standing beside me now, holding two children’s sleds and looking as ecstatic as the kids around him.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and took in the scene in front of him, a distant look in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips. “My mom used to bring me here on every snow day. It was something special that was just between us. She would let me sled down that hill until I couldn’t stand, and then she’d give me some hot chocolate and carry me back to the car.”

I didn’t say anything, not wanting to ruin this rare moment of transparency. Maxx pointed to an outcrop of stone at the bottom of the hill. “I broke my arm after I hit a rock down there.”

He laughed, and it was a sad and lonesome sound. “My mom freaked out. I got to ride in an ambulance, which for a nine-year-old was the coolest thing ever. So I didn’t think a lot about the fact that my bone was sticking out through my skin.”

His smile faded and twisted into a grimace. “I haven’t been here since I was ten,” he murmured, staring ahead, lost in his memories.

I felt my throat tighten and my eyes burn. I knew what he was doing, even if he didn’t realize it. He was giving me a piece of himself, a part of him that belonged to a time before the drugs. Before the club. Before his life had derailed.

I took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to calm the erratic thump of my heart. How could I not lose my heart to the man who stood in front of me, giving me the most precious thing he had? His memories. His happiness. The parts of his life that were untainted.

Maxx blinked a few times as if reminding himself of where he was. He turned back to me, his lip quirking upward slightly. He took the thermos from my hands, set it down beneath a tree, and handed me one of the sleds. “It’ll be fun. I promise,” he said, pulling his beanie out of his back pocket and putting it on.

There were those words again. I promise.

But this time, with his eyes sparkling and giddy, I actually believed him.

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, if I don’t break my neck first,” I deadpanned, and Maxx kissed the tip of my nose.

“Stop being so pessimistic,” he chastised, grabbing my hand and heading toward the crest of the hill.

I chewed on my bottom lip as I watched little kids zip down the hill, screaming the entire way. I could admit I was a bit of a wimp. Plus the incline was really steep, and I had already witnessed a few wipeouts.

“Yeah, I’m not so sure.” I hesitated as Maxx settled down on his sled. We were getting some strange looks from the children around us. I’m sure it was more than a little odd seeing a couple of adults playing in the snow alongside them.

Maxx looked up at me. “You’ve never been sledding before, have you?” he deduced.

I shook my head. I felt like an idiot. But we didn’t get a whole lot of snow in North Carolina. A few flakes and the world shut down. Half an inch closed school, but it had never been enough to sled in.