New Year by Bonnie Dee Read Free Book Online

something to them.”
    “I know.”
    We lay facing each other with our cheeks pressed against the bumpy quilt. Snow pelted the windowpane, leaving a skim of white on the glass. It was good to rest there in silence.
    After a while, w e chatted about inconsequential things—amusing Baby incidents, the office Christmas party, our families’ Christmas traditions. What we didn’t mention was Jason’s proposal. I had a right to ask for time to consider, but once an offer like that is made, it whispers underneath every other conversation.
    “Guess we should go to bed,” Jason said after a while.
    I was too comfortable to move, every limb boneless and my head still slushy from the martinis. I reached out to brush back a lock of his dark hair from his eyes. “Thanks for coming here with me.”
    “No place I’d rather be for the holidays.” He gave me one of those quirky lopsided smiles I’d come to love so much.
    E motion rushed through me, shaking me like the wind rattling the bare branches outside the window. “I love you,” I whispered.
    “Lo ve you too.” He slid closer and kissed me, a soft brush of the lips that unfurled a deep, burning heat. I curled a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him harder, deeper. I pressed my body full length against his, suddenly so full of desire I wanted to have him right then.
    But Jason gently disengag ed from my fierce embrace. “Not here. It feels weird in your parents’ house. And your cousins are right next door.”
    The hum of Chloe ’s and Worthy’s voices came through the wall. Of course he was right. I wasn’t used to Jason being the sensible one.
    I got up to change out of my clothes, then slid into bed and Jason’s arms for a good snuggle. I was so warm and happy and filled with the joyful spirit of Christmas that I nearly wanted to accept his proposal, tell him I would love him forever, and commit to the future.
    Instead , I drifted into sleep, and the possible moment of spontaneity passed.
     
    Chapter Five
    Jason
    Shouting voices and running feet pounded through my sleep, dragging me into a new morning filled with harsh white light. I was alone in bed. Anna’s side was cold beneath my palm. She’d been up for a while.
    I got up to look out the window. Overnight the yard had been transformed. The sun reflected off diamond-studded snow, making me squint. I felt the low-grade buzz of excitement that comes with a fresh snowfall, probably a throwback to the childhood hope for a day off from school. I wanted to run outside and roll in it, find a sled and whoosh down a hill.
    Below, Anna and Baby came into view. Anna threw a ball, and the terrier bounded through the snow after it, burrowing through a drift and coming up with a white muzzle and the ball clenched in her teeth. Anna reached to take the ball, but Baby sped away. Anna laughed. I could almost hear the sound from this distance, not through the pane of glass but in my mind.
    Her cheeks were pink with cold. She wore a bright red parka with a hood that framed her face in fur. The puffy coat made her look small, childlike. The simple pleasure of playing with Baby had put a smile on her face. No more tension or worry. I loved to see her happy like that.
    She glanced up at the window and waved at me, then beckoned me to come down. I hurried to get cleaned up and dressed. It was so far past breakfast, there was no way I was going to ask for anything, even though I was starving. Dressed in my boots and coat, I went outside into the crunchy snow.
    The little boys with the weird names were throwing the ball for Baby. When they saw me, they stopped to scoop up snowballs. The little one with the name that sounded like underwear planted one square in the center of my chest.
    I pretended to stagger backward as if shot, and called, “Good aim!”
    I packed a snowball lightly and tossed it without much force at the nearest kid. Soon wads of snow flew back and forth. Anna joined in, backing me up. The boys shrieked