Read Online A Christmas to Remember by Jill Shalvis, Kristen Ashley, Hope Ramsay, Molly Cannon, Marilyn Pappano - Free Book Online Page A
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like lightning and my eyes adjusted enough to the dark so I could see Cut climb up on the bed. He got up on his feet, still chanting, and walk-wobbled down our bodies, stepping on one or the other of us every other footfall until he threw himself down, arms out, landing flat out on the both of us.
“
Sanna came!
” he screeched, and after imparting this crucial information, he rolled off Shy’s way. We heard his little feet hit the floor then thud across it as he kept shouting, “Sanna, Sanna. Sanna! Sanna came!”
Then he was up the stairs and gone.
“I think that means it’s time to get our asses outta bed,” Shy noted sleepily and I let out a soft laugh.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think that’s what it means.”
I bent in, aimed a kiss at his shadowed throat and hit my mark. But as I was moving away in order to roll away, I had two arms around me and I was rolled the opposite way. Shy rolled with me and I was again back to bed with my man on me.
After getting me in position, he laid another Christmas kiss on me. It was warm. It was soft. It was lazy. It was a little sleepy. And it was
long
.
In other words, it was
the bomb.
When he lifted away to kiss my forehead, I remarked breathlessly, “You know, if that’s the only thing you give me today, I’m good.” And this was no lie.
Yes. The kiss was
that
good.
Then again, they always were.
I felt his eyes on mine in the dark before I heard his gruff voice say, “Christ. Fuckin’ love you, Tabitha.”
I pressed into him and gave him a squeeze. “Love you, too, honey.”
He dropped his head to kiss my jaw before he dipped down to kiss my throat. Then he rolled again, taking me with him until we were off the bed and on our feet beside it.
We retraced our steps of a few hours before to do the teeth-brushing, hair-brushing thing again (me with the hair brushing, that is; Shy didn’t bother). Shy added pulling on a pair of seen-better-days dark blue sweatpants and a white thermal that was skintight and gave more than a vague indication of the muscled lusciousness that lay beneath it.
I gave myself a moment to appreciate the view before I pulled on a thin black cardigan and a pair of thick socks and headed upstairs, hand in hand with my man.
The minute we made an appearance through the door to the upper level, Rider cut us off at the pass.
He did this by rushing to us, skidding to a halt on his own socked feet two feet in front of us, and tipping his head back to announce, “Santa was here! He left presents and filled stockings and even took the carrots for the reindeer!”
There was a reason Santa, having shown, was a surprise at which to rejoice. This was because my two baby brothers were Hellions with a capital Hell. They were normally unruly but October through December afforded Tyra the opportunity to threaten them with Santa bringing coal rather than presents, and she did this often. They ignored it often. So, until this morning, the jolly one making an appearance was a crapshoot and both the boys knew it.
“Right on,” Shy replied and I looked up at him to see him smiling down at my little brother.
His eyes were soft again, as was his entire face.
After knowing Shy for years, the road to us more than a little bumpy, having Shy in my life, my home, my bed (or, I should say, our home and bed since we lived together)—there was a lot I loved about all of that.
And one of those things high at the top of the list (a long list, seriously), was how he was with my brothers and the fact that he didn’t hide how deeply he cared about them.
Ride was a big fan of Shy’s, too, and this was proved when he jumped forward, grabbed Shy’s hand and started tugging (I’ll note, totally ignoring me), declaring, “Come on! Dad said we can open our stockings!”
“Your old man said you can open your stockings when everyone was up and had coffee,” Dad contradicted as I followed Shy and Ride into the living area that was really one huge room
“
Sanna came!
” he screeched, and after imparting this crucial information, he rolled off Shy’s way. We heard his little feet hit the floor then thud across it as he kept shouting, “Sanna, Sanna. Sanna! Sanna came!”
Then he was up the stairs and gone.
“I think that means it’s time to get our asses outta bed,” Shy noted sleepily and I let out a soft laugh.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think that’s what it means.”
I bent in, aimed a kiss at his shadowed throat and hit my mark. But as I was moving away in order to roll away, I had two arms around me and I was rolled the opposite way. Shy rolled with me and I was again back to bed with my man on me.
After getting me in position, he laid another Christmas kiss on me. It was warm. It was soft. It was lazy. It was a little sleepy. And it was
long
.
In other words, it was
the bomb.
When he lifted away to kiss my forehead, I remarked breathlessly, “You know, if that’s the only thing you give me today, I’m good.” And this was no lie.
Yes. The kiss was
that
good.
Then again, they always were.
I felt his eyes on mine in the dark before I heard his gruff voice say, “Christ. Fuckin’ love you, Tabitha.”
I pressed into him and gave him a squeeze. “Love you, too, honey.”
He dropped his head to kiss my jaw before he dipped down to kiss my throat. Then he rolled again, taking me with him until we were off the bed and on our feet beside it.
We retraced our steps of a few hours before to do the teeth-brushing, hair-brushing thing again (me with the hair brushing, that is; Shy didn’t bother). Shy added pulling on a pair of seen-better-days dark blue sweatpants and a white thermal that was skintight and gave more than a vague indication of the muscled lusciousness that lay beneath it.
I gave myself a moment to appreciate the view before I pulled on a thin black cardigan and a pair of thick socks and headed upstairs, hand in hand with my man.
The minute we made an appearance through the door to the upper level, Rider cut us off at the pass.
He did this by rushing to us, skidding to a halt on his own socked feet two feet in front of us, and tipping his head back to announce, “Santa was here! He left presents and filled stockings and even took the carrots for the reindeer!”
There was a reason Santa, having shown, was a surprise at which to rejoice. This was because my two baby brothers were Hellions with a capital Hell. They were normally unruly but October through December afforded Tyra the opportunity to threaten them with Santa bringing coal rather than presents, and she did this often. They ignored it often. So, until this morning, the jolly one making an appearance was a crapshoot and both the boys knew it.
“Right on,” Shy replied and I looked up at him to see him smiling down at my little brother.
His eyes were soft again, as was his entire face.
After knowing Shy for years, the road to us more than a little bumpy, having Shy in my life, my home, my bed (or, I should say, our home and bed since we lived together)—there was a lot I loved about all of that.
And one of those things high at the top of the list (a long list, seriously), was how he was with my brothers and the fact that he didn’t hide how deeply he cared about them.
Ride was a big fan of Shy’s, too, and this was proved when he jumped forward, grabbed Shy’s hand and started tugging (I’ll note, totally ignoring me), declaring, “Come on! Dad said we can open our stockings!”
“Your old man said you can open your stockings when everyone was up and had coffee,” Dad contradicted as I followed Shy and Ride into the living area that was really one huge room
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