Read Online Christmas With You by Tracey Alvarez - Free Book Online
Authors: Tracey Alvarez
Ads: Link
from the contact with his five-o’clock shadow. “Thank you, Kip.”
His eyes gleamed blue fire. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
***
“Give it your best shot. Show me what you can do,” said Carly.
Kip glowered at the roll of snowman-printed paper, scissors, and tape dispenser, lined up on his right side like instruments on a surgeon’s sterile tray. After dinner, he’d muscled the coffee table away from the couch, and the two of them had kneeled on the floor, surrounded by shopping bags and gift-wrapping crap.
If his mates could see him now…they’d laugh their damn asses off. He wouldn’t blame them.
Carly, opposite him, wore a wide this is gonna be hilarious grin.
Perfect.
If making a dick of himself was the only way to make her happy, he’d play the fool. Given his talents with gift-wrapping were approximately as good as his talent with floral arrangements; he’d have her in stitches in no time flat. Though he didn’t want to think about why it’d become important to hear her laugh—a sound that filled his stomach with tickly feathers and made him grin moronically in return.
“Come on, how hard can it be?” She nudged the first of the two Lego boxes closer to him. “It’s the easiest one to wrap.”
“You promised—no female commentary or advice.”
He shot her a sharp glance, and she mimed zipping her lips, her eyes—still a little puffy—dancing with humor. Puffy-eyed or not, she was beautiful. Breath-stealing, gut-wrenchingly, heart-palpitating-ly beautiful. Keeping his hands off her during dinner had taken a feat of willpower equivalent to that of a starving man sitting at a ten course banquet and managing not to eat.
“All right, then.” He shook out the wrapping paper so it unrolled in a long tongue across the carpet, then he stuck out a hand, palm up, without glancing at her. “Scissors. Hit me.”
Scissors slapped into his hand. Shuffling along on his knees toward the end of the roll, he measured a length that he figured should do and hacked across the paper. Boo-yah! Half way there already. So far, so good.
He dropped the scissors and held out his hands. “Lego. Hit me.”
She passed the box, and he placed it at one end of the paper. Grabbing the edge, Kip flipped the sucker end over end until he ran out of wrapping.
Hand out—“Tape.”
The dispenser hissed and clicked as Carly tore off a strip and stuck it on his fingertips. He slapped it on, ordered her to hit him again. She did, and he stuck that bit down, too. He paused to examine his work, didn’t even bother glancing at Carly for approval, because, man, he was in the zone . Nailing it, and only the ends to go.
With about four layers of paper to manipulate, taping up the ends required Carly to hit him with tape strips six times each side. But the end product, when he’d tossed the present over and applied the finishing touch of a red bow-thingy
Gift-wrapped like a boss, baby.
If he ever got tired of the bar-tending gig, a department store would scramble to hire him as a gift wrapper, for certain.
“Well?” Kip rocked back on his haunches and glanced up.
Carly wasn’t even looking at him. In fact, he couldn’t see her eyes. She was curled on her side in a foetal position, arms crossed over her stomach, her long red hair in wild tangles over her face. She made weird little chuffing sounds, interspersed with an occasional groan.
Dear God, had she choked on one of the nuts she’d set out as a snack? He lunged across the carpet, brain flipping through internal files on how to execute the Heimlich maneuver .
“Carly!” He swept her hair aside, bending close, ready and able to perform life-saving CPR.
She drew in a breath with a loud snort. Of laughter.
“You’re not choking on a nut, are you?” he asked.
A tear spilled over her long eyelashes, tracking inward toward her nose as she shook her head.
He narrowed his eyes, even though the tickles were back in his gut and it was great to
His eyes gleamed blue fire. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
***
“Give it your best shot. Show me what you can do,” said Carly.
Kip glowered at the roll of snowman-printed paper, scissors, and tape dispenser, lined up on his right side like instruments on a surgeon’s sterile tray. After dinner, he’d muscled the coffee table away from the couch, and the two of them had kneeled on the floor, surrounded by shopping bags and gift-wrapping crap.
If his mates could see him now…they’d laugh their damn asses off. He wouldn’t blame them.
Carly, opposite him, wore a wide this is gonna be hilarious grin.
Perfect.
If making a dick of himself was the only way to make her happy, he’d play the fool. Given his talents with gift-wrapping were approximately as good as his talent with floral arrangements; he’d have her in stitches in no time flat. Though he didn’t want to think about why it’d become important to hear her laugh—a sound that filled his stomach with tickly feathers and made him grin moronically in return.
“Come on, how hard can it be?” She nudged the first of the two Lego boxes closer to him. “It’s the easiest one to wrap.”
“You promised—no female commentary or advice.”
He shot her a sharp glance, and she mimed zipping her lips, her eyes—still a little puffy—dancing with humor. Puffy-eyed or not, she was beautiful. Breath-stealing, gut-wrenchingly, heart-palpitating-ly beautiful. Keeping his hands off her during dinner had taken a feat of willpower equivalent to that of a starving man sitting at a ten course banquet and managing not to eat.
“All right, then.” He shook out the wrapping paper so it unrolled in a long tongue across the carpet, then he stuck out a hand, palm up, without glancing at her. “Scissors. Hit me.”
Scissors slapped into his hand. Shuffling along on his knees toward the end of the roll, he measured a length that he figured should do and hacked across the paper. Boo-yah! Half way there already. So far, so good.
He dropped the scissors and held out his hands. “Lego. Hit me.”
She passed the box, and he placed it at one end of the paper. Grabbing the edge, Kip flipped the sucker end over end until he ran out of wrapping.
Hand out—“Tape.”
The dispenser hissed and clicked as Carly tore off a strip and stuck it on his fingertips. He slapped it on, ordered her to hit him again. She did, and he stuck that bit down, too. He paused to examine his work, didn’t even bother glancing at Carly for approval, because, man, he was in the zone . Nailing it, and only the ends to go.
With about four layers of paper to manipulate, taping up the ends required Carly to hit him with tape strips six times each side. But the end product, when he’d tossed the present over and applied the finishing touch of a red bow-thingy
Gift-wrapped like a boss, baby.
If he ever got tired of the bar-tending gig, a department store would scramble to hire him as a gift wrapper, for certain.
“Well?” Kip rocked back on his haunches and glanced up.
Carly wasn’t even looking at him. In fact, he couldn’t see her eyes. She was curled on her side in a foetal position, arms crossed over her stomach, her long red hair in wild tangles over her face. She made weird little chuffing sounds, interspersed with an occasional groan.
Dear God, had she choked on one of the nuts she’d set out as a snack? He lunged across the carpet, brain flipping through internal files on how to execute the Heimlich maneuver .
“Carly!” He swept her hair aside, bending close, ready and able to perform life-saving CPR.
She drew in a breath with a loud snort. Of laughter.
“You’re not choking on a nut, are you?” he asked.
A tear spilled over her long eyelashes, tracking inward toward her nose as she shook her head.
He narrowed his eyes, even though the tickles were back in his gut and it was great to
Similar Books
