Read Online A Christmas to Remember by Jill Shalvis, Kristen Ashley, Hope Ramsay, Molly Cannon, Marilyn Pappano - Free Book Online Page B
Tags: Fiction / Romance - Contemporary, Fiction / Romance - Erotica, Fiction / Contemporary Women, Fiction / Romance / Collections & Anthologies
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including kitchen and living room, with a fabulous view of the mountains from every window.
When I got there I saw, not surprisingly with Cutter’s earlier excitement, that both Landon and Rush were also up and sitting in the living room. Their eyes glazed with sleep, hair a mess, and at the sight, I couldn’t stop my lips from twitching.
Rush, like Shy (and, incidentally, Dad) was wearing a thermal and seen-better-days sweatpants. Landon had on a tight white long-sleeved tee and a pair of navy blue workout pants with a wide white stripe down the side.
Tyra, in the kitchen at the coffeepot, was dressed like me but her Christmas pj’s included pants, not shorts. They had a sky-blue background and white snowflakes all over, with the addition of miniature snowmen and penguins wearing scarves.
“Coffee!” Cut half-shouted in disgust, half-whined in despair.
“Coffee, boy,” Dad agreed, and I saw his eyes on his youngest. “It’s brewin’. You got about two minutes to wait. The presents’ll still be there when it’s done.”
“Coffee’s stupid!” Cut informed Dad.
“Don’t tell your mother that,” Dad warned Cut, and this was the God’s honest truth. Tyra liked her coffee.
I hit the kitchen and a second later I hit Dad for a kiss on the cheek and a hug.
Then I moved to Tyra, gave a hug, got one in return, and exchanged heartfelt, whispered Merry Christmases.
“Do we gotta wait until Tabby hugs everyone, too?” Cut asked as I shifted to the cupboards that held the mugs.
“That would be an affirmative,” I heard Dad mutter.
“Affirma-what?” Cut demanded to know.
I pulled down mugs, looked at Ty-Ty, and we both giggled.
But Dad didn’t think this was amusing and he was also done.
I knew this when he ordered, “Son, sit your ass in the living room, shut your trap and
wait two minutes
.”
Tyra, not a big fan of Dad cursing in front of the boys (something she let him know often, something he didn’t care about and continued to do when the spirit moved him, which was all the time) whirled and snapped, “Tack!”
“Thank fuck Christmas comes only once a year,” Dad, unrepentant at his language (obviously), ignored Ty-Ty’s snap to say under his breath.
Tyra gave her husband a glare, which deflected off him completely (as usual) and turned back to the coffee.
She poured.
I moved around the space and passed out the mugs, giving another cheek kiss and “Merry Christmas” to Landon and Rush. Again, with Lan, I checked the pulse of his mood by looking in his eyes.
They were, as I’d noted earlier, sleepy. They were also something else, and that something else had to do with the fact that the minute I moved away, his gaze moved direct to my two little brothers, who were barely containing their excitement. He looked contemplative, not joyful, and my Christmas spirit took a hit.
I gave Shy a look. Shy gave me a head shake that I interpreted as him saying
let him work through it.
It was tough but Shy knew his brother better than me so I did as I was non-verbally told.
Finally hitting the living room with my own cup, I noticed that Ride and Cut were firmly in position, both fidgeting on their booties, obviously impatient.
Tyra had a Christmas tradition where stockings were stuffed and placed where you were supposed to sit during the unwrapping festivities. This was mostly because they couldn’t stay hung since she stuffed them so full of presents and candy, they overflowed. It was also to give some order to the proceedings.
This meant that Rider and Cutter’s stockings were on the floor by the presents. Rush’s was, too, seeing as he played Santa every year and had since we were kids, way before Tyra entered the picture and (finally) made my dad happy. Even after Tyra arrived, Rush was still the one who passed out the presents. Now, since Ride and Cut could coordinate their limbs on command, Rush just sat there and told them which presents to take to people.
Rounding out the crew,
When I got there I saw, not surprisingly with Cutter’s earlier excitement, that both Landon and Rush were also up and sitting in the living room. Their eyes glazed with sleep, hair a mess, and at the sight, I couldn’t stop my lips from twitching.
Rush, like Shy (and, incidentally, Dad) was wearing a thermal and seen-better-days sweatpants. Landon had on a tight white long-sleeved tee and a pair of navy blue workout pants with a wide white stripe down the side.
Tyra, in the kitchen at the coffeepot, was dressed like me but her Christmas pj’s included pants, not shorts. They had a sky-blue background and white snowflakes all over, with the addition of miniature snowmen and penguins wearing scarves.
“Coffee!” Cut half-shouted in disgust, half-whined in despair.
“Coffee, boy,” Dad agreed, and I saw his eyes on his youngest. “It’s brewin’. You got about two minutes to wait. The presents’ll still be there when it’s done.”
“Coffee’s stupid!” Cut informed Dad.
“Don’t tell your mother that,” Dad warned Cut, and this was the God’s honest truth. Tyra liked her coffee.
I hit the kitchen and a second later I hit Dad for a kiss on the cheek and a hug.
Then I moved to Tyra, gave a hug, got one in return, and exchanged heartfelt, whispered Merry Christmases.
“Do we gotta wait until Tabby hugs everyone, too?” Cut asked as I shifted to the cupboards that held the mugs.
“That would be an affirmative,” I heard Dad mutter.
“Affirma-what?” Cut demanded to know.
I pulled down mugs, looked at Ty-Ty, and we both giggled.
But Dad didn’t think this was amusing and he was also done.
I knew this when he ordered, “Son, sit your ass in the living room, shut your trap and
wait two minutes
.”
Tyra, not a big fan of Dad cursing in front of the boys (something she let him know often, something he didn’t care about and continued to do when the spirit moved him, which was all the time) whirled and snapped, “Tack!”
“Thank fuck Christmas comes only once a year,” Dad, unrepentant at his language (obviously), ignored Ty-Ty’s snap to say under his breath.
Tyra gave her husband a glare, which deflected off him completely (as usual) and turned back to the coffee.
She poured.
I moved around the space and passed out the mugs, giving another cheek kiss and “Merry Christmas” to Landon and Rush. Again, with Lan, I checked the pulse of his mood by looking in his eyes.
They were, as I’d noted earlier, sleepy. They were also something else, and that something else had to do with the fact that the minute I moved away, his gaze moved direct to my two little brothers, who were barely containing their excitement. He looked contemplative, not joyful, and my Christmas spirit took a hit.
I gave Shy a look. Shy gave me a head shake that I interpreted as him saying
let him work through it.
It was tough but Shy knew his brother better than me so I did as I was non-verbally told.
Finally hitting the living room with my own cup, I noticed that Ride and Cut were firmly in position, both fidgeting on their booties, obviously impatient.
Tyra had a Christmas tradition where stockings were stuffed and placed where you were supposed to sit during the unwrapping festivities. This was mostly because they couldn’t stay hung since she stuffed them so full of presents and candy, they overflowed. It was also to give some order to the proceedings.
This meant that Rider and Cutter’s stockings were on the floor by the presents. Rush’s was, too, seeing as he played Santa every year and had since we were kids, way before Tyra entered the picture and (finally) made my dad happy. Even after Tyra arrived, Rush was still the one who passed out the presents. Now, since Ride and Cut could coordinate their limbs on command, Rush just sat there and told them which presents to take to people.
Rounding out the crew,
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