Read Online This Christmas by Katlyn Duncan - Free Book Online

awesome gravy out of turkey giblets. And I think I remember how he did it. Did you throw them away yet?”
    My mouth opens and closes a few times as I realize what I did. I wince and spin around to face him.
    “It’s okay if you did,” he offers. “It was something I just thought of.”
    My eyes flick to the stove. “I didn’t throw them away.”
    Will grins. “Great, I’ll get started.” He opens the cabinet and pulls out a pot. “Where are they?”
    I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, biting down. How could I have been so stupid?
    I turn on the water and start arranging the dishes. “In the turkey,” I mumble to myself.
    “What’s that?”
    My chin falls to my chest. “I left them in the turkey.”
    Will snorts and I whirl around to face him. He’s shaking his head, attempting to stifle his laugh.
    Heat rushes up my neck. “I told you I never made a turkey before!”
    He holds his hands up in front of him defensively. “I said nothing.”
    The vegetables and turkey are going to be ruined because of me. “Can I take them out?” I tug at my hair, pushing it off my heated skin. “Stop laughing!” I’m nearing hysterical as Will is laughing harder now.
    I shove him to the side and grab the pot holders, wrenching open the oven. It’s been in there for nearly an hour, enough that I hear the sizzling of the vegetables inside of the almost ruined bird.
    “Stupid, stupid,” I mumble. I grab the pan and practically drop it on the stove. I reach forward but Will stops me.
    “No trips to the hospital, remember?” he says calmly, holding my arms down at my sides.
    He moves around me and takes a set of tongs from the drawer, flourishing them between us like a ridiculously overdone magic trick.
    “I’m not a child,” I say petulantly.
    “Things that come out of a hot oven are hot. And burns do make a trip to the ER.”
    He pulls what’s left of the nearly melted giblet bag out of the turkey with the tongs. I grab a plate and hold it in front of him. He drops the bag and moves out of the way. I put the turkey back in the oven and close the door with my foot. It’s an older model so it crashes closed, jolting my nerves even more.
    I throw the potholders on the counter and start for the dishes needing to work out my frustration. I turn the water on, moving my fingers under the stream waiting for it to warm up.
    Will’s hands rest on my hips and his lips press against my neck.
    I lean into his touch, my frustration evaporates with each movement of his fingers.
    “Leave those.” His warm breath tickles my ear.
    I reach forward and push down the handle and the water stops. In the same movement I turn to face him. “You want to do them?” I tease.
    “No,” he presses a kiss to my lips. “I saved the turkey. Right now I’m hungry for something else.”
    His fingers dance across the hem of my sweatshirt, moving underneath. I suck in a breath at his warm touch against my stomach.
    I lean forward, kissing
him
this time. His hands dip to my butt and lift me. Before I know it, I’m in the air then sitting on the counter. I wrap my legs around him, reminded of a similar situation in another kitchen this summer, and my whole body erupts with need.
    I clutch his shirt, needing him closer to me. He finds his place under my shirt again and moves across my back, to my bra. He pops the clasp and, in one fell swoop, lifts my shirt and sweatshirt over my head. I fumble for the hem of his, trapped under the tight grip of my legs. But within seconds we’re topless and panting.
    His lips move to my neck and I tilt my head, giving him more space to roam. My hands explore his hard chest, igniting a wave of heat that blooms between my legs.
    He hugs me close to him and we’re mobile. My head falls over his shoulder as we relocate to the couch. We fall to the couch and grasp at each other’s clothes in between feverish kisses.
    I moan into his mouth as his tongue moves over mine, deepening the kiss. No busted water heater