The Longest Holiday Read Online Free PDF

conversation …
    ‘Where did you disappear to last night, then?’ Rick asks me, taking a swig of his beer before putting it on the ground.
    ‘I went upstairs to take a shower and ended up falling asleep.’
    ‘Lightweight,’ he teases, removing his cap and sunnies and running his hand through his sandy-blond hair before leaning forward and turning to look at me. Whoa. I almost reel backwards. His eyes are a piercing blue, even bluer than Matthew’s. I instantly decide that I don’t like blue eyes and inadvertently shiver.
    ‘You’re not cold, are you?’ he asks, his eyes dropping to my cleavage. I don’t have much of one normally, but Bridget’s swimming costume cinches me in.
    ‘No, I’m fine,’ I reply, turning my attention to the other two boys – much safer. ‘When’s your jet-skiing tournament?’ I ask.
    ‘Wednesday,’ Carl tells me. That’s the day after tomorrow.
    ‘We’ll have to come and watch you,’ Bridget says with a tipsy giggle, patting him on his muscled thigh.
    ‘You like to watch, do you?’ Carl asks with a grin and a raised eyebrow.
    Bridget giggles and a red spot forms on each of her cheeks.
    ‘Are you all hitting Duval Street later?’ I ask.
    ‘Hell, yeah,’ Tom replies, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘Thought we’d check out Sloppy Joe’s,’ he says of the infamous bar, once frequented by Key West’s most prominent former resident, Ernest Hemingway.
    ‘So what are you chicks doing down here in the keys, anyway?’ Carl leans back on his elbows. They are all ridiculously tanned and fit.
    ‘Just a little girls’ holiday,’ Marty replies, tucking her hair behind one ear. ‘Bridge is a travel writer so she’s doing a piece and we’re making the most of her discount,’ she adds with a smile.
    ‘Nice job. Wasn’t your boyfriend pissed that you brought your friends instead of him?’ Carl asks Bridget with a sideways glance – definitely fancies her.
    ‘I’m single,’ she replies with a shrug.
    ‘No boyfriends for us, thank you very much,’ Marty adds flippantly.
    I open my mouth to speak, but she silences me with a look.
    ‘Girls just wanna have fun, hey?’ Rick says.
    ‘Absolutely!’ Marty says. I raise my eyebrows, but keep my mouth shut. I down the rest of my drink.
    ‘You want another one of those?’ Rick asks.
    ‘No, I’m going to get ready. You coming?’ I ask Marty meaningfully.
    She hesitates before nodding. She knows she’s in for it.
    ‘I’ll be up in a bit!’ Bridget calls after us.
    ‘See you at Sloppy’s,’ Rick adds and I glance back to meet his eyes, wishing a split second later that I hadn’t.
    ‘What are you doing, telling him I’m single?’ I hiss at Marty when we’re out of earshot.
    ‘I didn’t say you were single,’ she replies glibly. ‘I said we didn’t have boyfriends. Technically it’s true.’ We reach the apartment and she rummages around in her beach bag for the key.
    ‘You’re misleading him,’ I say when we’re inside. ‘I’m married.’
    Her face softens. ‘I know. I’m sorry. Let’s just follow Cyndi’s mantra and have some fun, eh? They’re only here until Friday.’
    I sigh. ‘Okay.’
    ‘You jump in the shower first. I’m going to raid my suitcase for an outfit to knock Tom’s socks off.’
    ‘Just his socks?’ I ask wryly. She sniggers and I head into the bathroom determined to put Rick out of my mind, along with every other blue-eyed boy I’ve ever fallen in love with.
    ‘You should have your palms read!’ Bridget cries gleefully. We’re on our way to Duval Street after dinner. There’s a palm-reading stall set up on the pavement with a wiry-looking, deeply tanned man of indeterminate age sitting at a table.
    ‘Definitely not.’ I shake my head with drunken determination as I try not to look the palm reader in the eye.
    ‘You should!’ Bridget persists loudly.
    ‘You will never get Laura to do that,’ Marty butts in, slurring slightly. ‘She once had her palms read