Read Online This Christmas by Katlyn Duncan - Free Book Online Page A

is stopping us this time.
    Will hovers over me before sitting back on his legs. His chest puffs out in deep breaths, matching mine as he pulls my jeans off one leg at a time. I try to rush him and am met with a slow, sexy grin spreading across his lips.
    What a tease.
    I rocket up from the couch and unbuckle his belt. His fingers find their way between my legs, halting my movements. I’m frozen in place for a moment before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him to me. We fall back down to the couch, tangled in each other’s arms and hearts.
    ***
    After the turkey dinner, which turned out quite savory—even though I thought I could make out a hint of plastic taste, I clean up the kitchen while Will starts a fire. The whole cabin heats up quickly, enveloping me in the warmest fuzzy feeling I’d ever had at Christmas. Christmas in years past always had a certain feeling of coziness. Even with the ups and downs of the past few days that feeling remained, yet it had something else. A newness. As if the known Christmases past were able to be melded into something even better.
    Will and I sit by the fire with mugs of hot chocolate in our hands. The only lights in the whole place are from the twinkling lights from the tree and the crackling flames in the hearth. I lean my head into the crook of his shoulder and take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of pine and wood smoke. A faint scent of dinner swirls around us as well. My gaze falls to the tree and the presents underneath. My stomach twists thinking that Will won’t have much to open in the morning. But the amount of gifts can’t compete with the revelations in our relationship we’ve uncovered in the past few days. And for that I’d trade everything under the tree.
    “I wish we could stay here forever,” I say into my mug.
    Will kisses my hair. “Me too.”
    In a few days our vacation will be over. As much as we’ve discussed our future and rekindled our feelings, I can’t help but think we’ll go back to the same routine once we get back to the City.
    “I’ve been thinking about our conversation,” Will says, as if reading my thoughts.
    “Uh huh,” I hedge.
    “We had four months to get over the move and get settled,” he starts. “I think we should set some time for each other. At least once a week.”
    “Time to sit and do nothing. Like this,” I say dreamily, wanting to never leave this place physically or spiritually.
    He chuckles. “We can do other things. But yeah…”
    We listen to the crackling fire for a few moments before Will speaks again. “I’m going to give some of my shifts away. To make time.”
    I look up at him, the fire reflecting the seriousness in his eyes. “I can give up a club or two.”
    “And maybe when we go back we can go ice skating,” he says with a small hint of regret. I know it’s not his thing, but his compromise is a big step forward.
    I pinch his arm lightly. “You’ve really found the Christmas spirit, haven’t you?” I joke.
    His expression is serious though. “I think you’ve warmed Scrooge’s heart.”
    “I wanted to make this special for you,” I admit. “I know the holidays haven’t been the same for you for a long time.”
    He massages the back of his neck, craning it against his hand. “Becky wanted to do something with Mom and me when we get back. If Dad is able to forgive her, I think I might be able to.”
    “I hope so,” I say, downing the rest of my mug.
    Will moves off the couch, cooling that side of my body with the absence of his warmth. He stands in front of the hearth.
    I sit up and put my mug on the table. “Is something wrong?”
    He shakes his head once but doesn’t turn around. “I know your family opens a gift on Christmas Eve.” He reaches up and takes something from the mantle and turns around, holding it in front of him.
    I stand up and walk to him, trying to decipher what’s under the wrapping. The gift is round and about the size of his palm. I have no