I'll Be Yours for Christmas. Samantha HunterЧитать онлайн книгу.
to have seen him. Reece wasn’t shy and had to resist the urge to tease her about it.
So Abby was bit of a voyeur? It didn’t bother him. He’d be happy to let her look all she liked, he thought, his grin breaking loose as he turned away to hang her coat.
Maybe this evening would go even better than he thought.
“Grab that bottle and we can go put the food together in the kitchen, then sit by the fire,” he said casually, though he wasn’t feeling casual at all. All of his worries were pushed back by a surge of unexpected lust, and it felt great. He wanted to hold on to it, ride it and see where it took him.
“Oh, that would be nice,” she said, walking with him to the kitchen. Dressed in jeans and a sweater that accentuated her curves, he leaned forward and pulled something from her hair. He could swear she sucked in a breath when he did, becoming perfectly still.
Hmm.
He presented a straw of hay to her with a smile. “Been down with your horses, I take it?”
She rolled her eyes and snatched the hay from his hand, but couldn’t hold back a laugh, which made her even prettier. He’d always thought she was pretty, even as a little girl, but now … she was incredible. She always looked so natural and fresh, and he wondered what her skin tasted like.
“Yes, I was closing them up for the night when I saw your lights on my way back from the barn.”
“Do you still have just the two? Buttercup and Beau?”
She paused, looking surprised that he remembered. He was a little surprised, too.
“Yes. Wow, you know their names,” she said bluntly, taking the plate he handed her to open the brie so they could heat it up in the small toaster oven he pointed to.
“Why so surprising? We went to the same school, rode the same bus,” he said. “Must’ve just stuck in my mind, I guess.”
“Huh. I didn’t think you knew I was alive unless you were poking at me about something,” she said, and it was his turn to be a little surprised.
“I always liked you. I teased you, sure, but did you feel like I picked on you? Really?” A small frown creased his lips. He didn’t like thinking he had hurt Abby’s feelings or been mean to her.
Taking the food, they made their way to the main room and set the dishes down on the coffee table, placing a platter with green grapes, crackers and apples and the warmed brie between them. All perfect to go with the Baco, but Reece waited for her answer before moving to the fire.
She looked him in the eye and sighed lightly. “Well, you have to admit, aside from teasing me or pulling my hair, you didn’t give me reason to think you knew I existed, let alone that you would remember details of my life.”
“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin slowly. “I remember some things very clearly,” he said with a teasing wink.
“You can’t even resist now, can you?” she said accusingly, but a smile twitched at her lips.
She remembered what happened between them that night at the lake as clearly as he did, he’d bet. And, no, he wasn’t sure he could resist, or wanted to. But there was time. He backed away, letting it drop for now.
“Let me put a few more logs on the fire and we can eat. Suddenly I’m starving.”
He was, though he wasn’t sure the food on the plate was what he had a taste for, but it would have to be enough for the moment.
They spent the next two hours eating and talking in front of the crackling fire, when Abby suddenly looked around the room.
“You don’t have a tree or any Christmas decorations up,” she observed.
He shrugged. “There hasn’t been any time, or much point, I guess. I’m the only one here, and Charles, the real estate agent, thought it was better to show the place without a lot of decorations. Let people imagine their own lives here and all that.”
“Oh,” she remarked, her expression turning serious. “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,” she said carefully.
“Christmas decorations?”
“No, that you’re selling. I was hoping—”
Reece put a hand up. “Abby, I’d be happy to sit down and talk business with you at some point. But not right now, okay?”
“But—”
“It’s been kind of a tough day. I’d really like to relax, catch up with an old friend,” he said.
He geniunely didn’t want to talk business with Abby. He knew she’d want to convince him not to sell, or something like that, and he didn’t want to discuss that with her. It was a done deal, and that conversation was sure to put a damper on the heat building between them.
She bit her lip and looked reluctant, but nodded. “I can understand that,” she said, looking down at her wine. “I know things must have been hard for you this year,” she said vaguely, inviting him to say more, but he didn’t want to talk about any of that, either. Maybe that wasn’t fair, but he needed a night off from all of it.
“Yeah,” he said, and changed the subject. “But how about you? You live in the house alone now?”
Nothing like discreet fishing before you tried to seduce an old friend, he thought. Hopefully there wasn’t another guy in the picture, though looking at her, it was hard to believe they weren’t lined up.
She shook her head, and his relief was immediate.
“Nope, just me now. Sarah retired, and Mom and Dad are traveling all over the world. I still have a small part-time staff, of course, to help me get things done, but I handle most of it myself.”
“They don’t come home for the holidays? Your parents?”
“It would be difficult. They send gifts, and we video conference on the computer a lot. Last year they were in India, helping local people build a school. This winter, they’ve been helping down in Haiti.”
“Really? I thought they were tourists now?”
“They mix their pleasure travel with activism. It’s just their way, and they have always been more like explorers than tourists.”
He nodded, smiling. “I remember.”
“I know what they’re doing is important, and I’m a big girl. We’re busy enough through the holidays that being alone at Christmas gives me a quiet day or two to relax, read, sleep in, that kind of thing.”
“Your parents were always so progressive,” he said admiringly, but really he was thinking about Abby sleeping in, under the covers, warm and soft, curled up in something slinky with a book. Then he imagined taking the book out of her hands and slipping the lacy bit of nothing from her shoulder….
“Reece?” she said, and he realized he had gone blank, lost in his fantasy. “Are you okay?”
She seemed worried, and it bothered him. Of all the people he didn’t want worrying if he was healthy and ready to go, she was first on the list at the moment.
“Sorry. You just made me remember that summer when your parents decided to try to add selling goat cheese to the winery business, and all of the goats got loose one weekend and ate some of my dad’s vines,” he lied, unable to look away from her face. Her eyes had landed on the scar behind his ear—the skin graft had healed, but it was visible. Did it bother her?
The definite sparkle of interest in her eyes said no, he assumed.
She laughed then, breaking the bond. “He was pretty nice about it, considering.”
Her honey-brown hair was soft and slightly curled, pushed back in a haphazard way that made him want to reach out and weave his hands into it. She didn’t wear makeup, which he found refreshing. She didn’t