A Boulder Creek Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

her, and he feared doing so would have the opposite effect of what he intended—to regain her trust. He’d had it once—a precious gift—but had lost it. For that, he shouldered much of the blame, and he aimed to make things right if it took…well, forever. But he hoped it wouldn’t take that long. He prayed it wouldn’t. “My tasks here have only begun. There’s still so much to do.”
    “In that case, I’ve made hot chocolate, and there’s a roast in the oven. Would you like to stay for dinner?”
    “You don’t have to ask me twice.” Ryan lowered the ladder and positioned it lengthwise along the porch at the side of the house. He’d need it again soon since he’d noticed loosened shingles, like an unsightly patch of psoriasis, along the western slope of the roof.
    “Good, because I don’t plan to.” Lani caught her lower lips between her teeth and tugged before adding, “I hoped you’d say yes.”
    “Did you, now?” Ryan smiled and caught a lock of her hair between his fingers as it danced in the breeze. The strands were soft as downy feathers. Reluctantly, he let them go and then slapped the thigh of his jeans as he whistled for Moe. “Come on, boy, it looks like we’re finding our way out of the doghouse…at least for now.”

4
    Ryan stepped into the quaint frame house and was immediately enfolded in familiar scents of cinnamon and nutmeg…aromas that elicited a plethora of warm memories. He shrugged from his jacket and hung it on the hook of a hall tree just inside the door while Moe loped ahead, eagerly sniffing the air.
    A few more steps took Ryan into the heart of the house, and he simply stood stock-still for the length of several heartbeats, barely breathing as his pulse suddenly took off at a gallop. He’d missed this. He’d really, truly missed spending time here. How could he have forgotten the good times he’d spent here…the warmth and laughter?
    When his pulse settled, Ryan circled the room slowly, drinking in the bright mustard-yellow walls trimmed with earthy red and a huge bay window along the length of the living room that offered a view of fruit trees, now dormant, clustered along the front yard. A wide arch opened the living room to a homey sitting area set off to one side; Grandma Cora used to love to lounge there in the padded, gliding rocker and read her Bible as cookies baked in the double oven. Oatmeal-raisin proved a house specialty. Ryan had probably eaten his weight in the sweet confections over the years.
    Ryan smoothed a hand over the arm of the couch and noticed right away that it and the matching loveseat were the same as he recalled. The russet-orange and tan paisley pattern was unique, and he’d remember the fabric even if it wasn’t so vibrant. Many summers ago, he and a few of his football buddies had helped Grandma Cora haul both pieces, along with the coffee table, from the furniture store and move them into the house.
    And he and Lani had once shared a kiss as they sat, bathed in the warmth of firelight on the loveseat…their first and only kiss. Ryan’s lips tingled—his whole body trembled—as he remembered the way Lani’s eyes had shimmered like precious jewels while light danced along the living room walls. She’d leaned into him and the soft touch of her lips stole his breath as a firestorm of need ignited. He’d never felt so alive…or so much in danger.
    A new, all-consuming need rushed up to wash over him. Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe…couldn’t think…couldn’t move.
    “Ryan, are you OK?” Lani took a step toward him as she slipped the chunky cardigan from her shoulders. Concern flooded her features. “You shouldn’t have stayed out in the cold for so long. You worked too hard.”
    “I’m fine.” Ryan scrubbed a hand over his jaw and rolled the tension from his shoulders. “It’s just…memories.”
    “I know what you mean.”
    Did she? Was it possible that Lani remembered the night they’d kissed as well as he did?