“The trick is to have a big enough patch of fresh snow.” She waved her arms like she was doing jumping jacks. He did the same, positioning himself so he was next to her. “And keep your legs spread,” she added, stepping wide and ignoring the stabs of pain in her pantyhose-clad ankles. He cracked up. “Keep your legs spread. Yes. A particular motto of mine.” “Oh, shut up. No off-color jokes allowed during snow-angel-ing.”
