Christmas Kisses Read Online Free PDF Page A

look. His crystal clear eyes lock with mine and dance with mirth. I grin, while I honk-laugh (which is the most god-awful sound e ver ) and pull back. Ryan’s wicked smile becomes incredibly sexy. I have no idea what I’m doing or where I want things to end, but it feels right. I don’t know what comes next, but I don’t want to let go of his hands. I feel his grip on my arms lo o sen, but I don’t sit back. I don’t let go. Where his fingers touch my bare arms, I feel pin pricks of electricity tingling warmly beneath my skin. It’s like magic.
    Everything about him is captivating, beyond rea son, beyond comprehension. If Ryan knew how he mak e s me feel, he could use that power whenever he wanted. There’s no way to refuse him when he’s like this. It’s like he’s the sun, and although I know I’ll never survive, I want to dive straight into him . I want to feel his touch, see his smile, and hear his voice. It doesn’t matter that I’ll burn up in the process. There’s no one else like him.
    I know. I’ve looked.
    The waiter clears his throat and we release each other. Grinning, I sink back into the booth, smiling at Ryan.
    “Your order.” The waiter puts the plates in front of us and ask s, “Will there be anything else?” Ryan shakes his head and the waiter leaves. When I pop a fry in my mouth, Ryan looks up at me.
    “I missed having you around, Holly.”
     

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER
     
    4
     
     
    HOLLY
     
    His words slice through me like little blades. I smile at him and nod. I suck at receiving compliments, but that really wasn’t one. Was it? I mean, Ryan says things like that and then keeps going. He acts like it does n’t mean anything, so I never assume it does. The thing is, those little words stick with me. He’s said things like that before, words that pierced through all my armor and sunk into my heart. But w hen I expect him to act, to do something more, Ryan doesn’t. He shirks it off like he didn’t mean anything by it. He could say that he wants to have sex with me and then make it sound like an off the cuff comment.
    Maybe I ’ m mental? Maybe I make too much out of nothing, but Ry an’s words always sound charged. It ’ s like static electricity is building between us and one day we’ll touch , and both combust into a pile of ashes—or lust- induced insanity. The latter sounds preferable. I could be down with that , as long as Ryan was the other nutjob that I got to get down with.
    My mind is wandering, having crazy conversations by itself. Ryan says something. When I don’t answer he leans forward and his dark brows lift into his hairline. “Well?”
    “Hmmm? Well, what?”
    “Do you ever pay attention?” He stabs his chicken with his fork and eats it like he’s starving.
    My gaze strays to his lips and I tear it away, trying to use what little common sense I have left. “No.” I smile.
    He laughs. “At least you’re honest. I could tell you that I zone out every four seconds , because I’m thinking about sex, but I’ll be damned if I ever figure out what has you so distracted.”
    I snort, and stab a fry with my fork. I wave it in the air as I speak. “That, my friend, will be a secret that I take with me to my cold, dark grave.” I emphasize the grave part by pointing my fork at him, and the fry falls off the end and plops down, into his drink.
    His eyes lift slowly to meet mine. “You ruined my soda.”
    “That wasn’t me.” I lie and don’t look at him. A laugh bubbles up inside of me. This feels like old times, the way things were before I left.
    “What wasn’t you?” I cock my head at him, confused. Did he seriously forget what we were talking about? Then he grins at me, “Sorry, that was the four second point. What were you saying?”
    I laugh and want to shove his hand, but I don’t reach for him. Instead, I smile , saying, “Take a drink and try to remember.”
    “Ah, the French fry incident of ’12. Yeah…” he dips his fingers into