Read Online Christmas Dinner (Crimson Romance) by Robyn Neeley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robyn Neeley
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thought he was a flirt?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “Did I?”
He nodded. “More than once.”
“Well, what I meant was he has a way with our female viewers. It’s good for ratings. Honestly, I couldn’t be happier. Tate’s the best thing to ever happen to me,” she added for good measure.
Her brother shot her a look of disbelief. “Well, I need to hit the hay. Big day tomorrow. Did you tell Tate that he’ll be helping us?”
“Sort of.” She patted him on his back. “He’ll be ready in the morning. Promise you’ll take good care of him.”
“Oh, I’ll take good care of him all right. You can count on it.”
• • •
“So, we might have a tiny little problem.” Amanda walked into her childhood room and flipped on the light switch, dropping her suitcase.
“What would that be?” Tate followed her in and set his duffle bag down. The upstairs of the cabin was just as rustic and charming as the downstairs. He was going to love spending the weekend here pretending to be Amanda’s boyfriend. Not a bad way to spend his holiday as far as he was concerned.
“I forgot that I’ve pretty much given my brother a play-by-play of our altercations since day one and that I pretty much despise you.” She reached for a pillow from off the bed and dropped it on the floor. “He called me out on it tonight.”
“So we’ve had a few disagreements.”
She laughed “Yeah. Every week.”
“We do fight often, don’t we?”
She nodded. “It’s usually your fault.”
“You don’t really
despise
me, do you?”
“I guess not.” She grabbed a blanket lying over a rocking chair and handed it to Tate. “Here you go.”
He sat on the bed. “You’re seriously going to make me sleep on the floor?”
Amanda nodded with conviction then shook her head. “I guess that would be mean. We’re adults.” She waved a finger his way. “You’re sleeping above the comforter, though, and if you touch me, I’ll scream.
“Fine.” Tate chuckled. There were other, more pleasurable ways he’d like to make her scream.
Amanda picked up the pillow and threw it at Tate. “Anyway, my brother is overprotective. I’m sure he doesn’t want me to get hurt again.”
“Understandable.” He propped the pillow up on the headboard. “If I had a sister, I’m sure I’d look out for her, too.”
“We’ll need to prove to him we’re in love.”
He raised an interested eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know.” Amanda came over and sat next to him, stretching her legs and arching her back.
Tate slipped off his shoes, exhaustion finally setting in. Could he convince her that giving him a massage would be a great way to start? He doubted it. Leaning back, he crossed his feet and laid his head on the pillow. “So, Amanda. What will we be doing tomorrow? Is your dad Santa Claus?”
“No.” She pulled the elastic band out of her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. “Well, at least he’s not
the
Santa Claus. The trees at the bottom of the hill—it’s our family business. We grow and sell them.” Amanda shot up and moved to the window, pushing back the ruby red curtains. “All of this is a Christmas tree farm. Did your family not get their tree from us?”
“No, we didn’t live here very long.” His heart tugged at the memory of his parents. He rolled over on his side and propped up on his elbow.
“Oh, that’s right. You said that earlier.”
“Is selling Christmas trees a fulltime business?”
“It can be, and for my family it is. The next few days are often two of our busiest.”
“I would think most people have their trees by now, don’t they?”
“Yes, but Christmas Eve for the Turners is always about making sure every family that wants one in this county has a tree. My family works overtime to make that happen.”
“That’s really awesome. How come you’ve never mentioned this before?”
She shrugged and straightened her sweater. “I guess I don’t share
She shifted uncomfortably. “Did I?”
He nodded. “More than once.”
“Well, what I meant was he has a way with our female viewers. It’s good for ratings. Honestly, I couldn’t be happier. Tate’s the best thing to ever happen to me,” she added for good measure.
Her brother shot her a look of disbelief. “Well, I need to hit the hay. Big day tomorrow. Did you tell Tate that he’ll be helping us?”
“Sort of.” She patted him on his back. “He’ll be ready in the morning. Promise you’ll take good care of him.”
“Oh, I’ll take good care of him all right. You can count on it.”
• • •
“So, we might have a tiny little problem.” Amanda walked into her childhood room and flipped on the light switch, dropping her suitcase.
“What would that be?” Tate followed her in and set his duffle bag down. The upstairs of the cabin was just as rustic and charming as the downstairs. He was going to love spending the weekend here pretending to be Amanda’s boyfriend. Not a bad way to spend his holiday as far as he was concerned.
“I forgot that I’ve pretty much given my brother a play-by-play of our altercations since day one and that I pretty much despise you.” She reached for a pillow from off the bed and dropped it on the floor. “He called me out on it tonight.”
“So we’ve had a few disagreements.”
She laughed “Yeah. Every week.”
“We do fight often, don’t we?”
She nodded. “It’s usually your fault.”
“You don’t really
despise
me, do you?”
“I guess not.” She grabbed a blanket lying over a rocking chair and handed it to Tate. “Here you go.”
He sat on the bed. “You’re seriously going to make me sleep on the floor?”
Amanda nodded with conviction then shook her head. “I guess that would be mean. We’re adults.” She waved a finger his way. “You’re sleeping above the comforter, though, and if you touch me, I’ll scream.
“Fine.” Tate chuckled. There were other, more pleasurable ways he’d like to make her scream.
Amanda picked up the pillow and threw it at Tate. “Anyway, my brother is overprotective. I’m sure he doesn’t want me to get hurt again.”
“Understandable.” He propped the pillow up on the headboard. “If I had a sister, I’m sure I’d look out for her, too.”
“We’ll need to prove to him we’re in love.”
He raised an interested eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know.” Amanda came over and sat next to him, stretching her legs and arching her back.
Tate slipped off his shoes, exhaustion finally setting in. Could he convince her that giving him a massage would be a great way to start? He doubted it. Leaning back, he crossed his feet and laid his head on the pillow. “So, Amanda. What will we be doing tomorrow? Is your dad Santa Claus?”
“No.” She pulled the elastic band out of her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. “Well, at least he’s not
the
Santa Claus. The trees at the bottom of the hill—it’s our family business. We grow and sell them.” Amanda shot up and moved to the window, pushing back the ruby red curtains. “All of this is a Christmas tree farm. Did your family not get their tree from us?”
“No, we didn’t live here very long.” His heart tugged at the memory of his parents. He rolled over on his side and propped up on his elbow.
“Oh, that’s right. You said that earlier.”
“Is selling Christmas trees a fulltime business?”
“It can be, and for my family it is. The next few days are often two of our busiest.”
“I would think most people have their trees by now, don’t they?”
“Yes, but Christmas Eve for the Turners is always about making sure every family that wants one in this county has a tree. My family works overtime to make that happen.”
“That’s really awesome. How come you’ve never mentioned this before?”
She shrugged and straightened her sweater. “I guess I don’t share
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