The Ghost of Christmas Present by Jenny Lykins Read Free Book Online Page B

in ways
she'd only dreamed of, then die all over again of
ecstasy.
    "What?" she asked with a slightly
uncomfortable look.
    "I was just thinking how kissable you
look right now."
    Her eyebrows shot skyward and she
side-stepped around him.
    "In your dreams, big boy. I don't want
to go through another night like last night. Now get in the
Christmas spirit, no pun intended, and show me where they hide the
decorations."
    He must be back to normal, since he was
already planning how to sap his strength again. But he'd promised
her. With a sigh, he dragged his thoughts away from how nice her
mouth tasted and tried to remember where the owners had stored the
Christmas decorations back in...what? 1986? 1996? 2006?
    "Gotta be in the closet," he mumbled,
more to himself than to Alane. "There's no other storage place
unless it's in the building out back."
    He walked through the door and into the
closet's depths, strolling through a vacuum cleaner, lawn chairs,
umbrellas, a badminton game, and an assortment of junk collected
over the years. Scanning with his night vision, he found two boxes
of decorations in the farthest corner under two old suitcases and a
bag of old clothes.
    Without bothering to go back to the
door, he stuck his head through the wall and found Alane moving
furniture around, making room for the tree.
    "You want the good news or the bad
news?"
    She bumped a heavy table a few more
feet with her hip, then straightened and raked a silky blond strand
behind her ear.
    "I don't do bad news."
    "Okay. The good news is the decorations
are in here."
    She looked at the door, then dragged
her gaze six feet along the wall to where his head
protruded.
    "Let me guess," she groaned. "You're
standing in the middle of them and there's not exactly a clear path
back there."
    "Give the lady a prize!"
    When she walked to the closet and
opened the door, he pulled his head back in and waved at
her.
    "Down here, under the
stairs."
    Alane flicked on the light and groaned
again.
    "Oh well." After dragging the heavy,
dark green sweater over her head, she shoved the sleeves of her
pale mint turtleneck up to her elbows and started pulling junk from
the closet. Halfway back she stopped and dragged a hand across her
cheek, leaving behind a brown smudge. His heart melted.
    "How 'bout handing me that - " She
stopped pointing at a large box of junk and thumped her head with
the heel of her hand. "Duh!" She giggled and kept plowing her way
through. "I forget sometimes that you can't...well, you know. Not
that it makes any difference..."
    Alane kept talking but Jared didn't
hear her words.
    He couldn't even hand her something.
Couldn't help ease her life in any tangible way at all. Hell, he
couldn't even open a door for her when she had her hands full. What
was he doing, falling in love with this woman?
    " Tada !" While he'd wallowed in self
pity, she'd finished working her way to the boxes. "Just let me
cram all this junk back in here and then we can do the fun
stuff."
    Jared made himself smile at her look of
triumph. She lugged the boxes out of the closet, then set to work
replacing what she'd taken out.
    He wandered out of the closet and
flopped into a chair. This was a mistake. This whole fiasco would
never have happened if he'd controlled himself and remained cloaked
throughout her visit.
    But he hadn't bargained on falling in
love.
    "Oh, the weather outside is frightful,"
Alane sang in the most horrendous, off-key voice, "but the fire is
so delightful..."
    Jared grimaced but couldn't
help smiling. How could he not love her? For the first time in his life - or
death - he listened to his heart. Throwing off the self pity, he
stood and followed her voice into the closet.
    "Let it snow, let it snow, let it -
GEEZ! Would you stop doing that?"
     
    *******
     
    Alane propped her feet up on the coffee
table and scooped up a handful of popcorn. She gestured for the
third time that night toward the tree.
    "Not bad, if I do say so
myself."
    "A work of art," Jared