Winter Wishes (The Play #1.5) by Karina Halle Read Free Book Online

surprisingly tanned.
    Lachlan talks to him for a moment about things I can’t quite hear or understand and then takes off his shirt, unveiling that taught, toned torso and all those tattoos. He adorns boxing gloves and heads off toward a punching bag in the corner, listening intently to every word his trainer is telling him.
    I don’t think I’ve seen a sexier sight than watching Lachlan have a mean, hard go at the punching bag. I mean, I’m not sure how that can even be possible after last night, or maybe life with Lachlan in general, but at the moment it’s true. He’s completely in the zone, that brow of his furrowed in deep concentration as he hits the bag over and over. It’s like nothing else exists for him and he gives every ounce of himself, his muscles taught like strung wires, sweat pouring down his forehead and body. He hits with so much force I can practically feel it shake my bones.
    He’s only with his trainer for about 45-minutes, some of it sparring, some of it doing sit-ups and kicks, but it’s more than enough. When he’s done, he grabs a towel and starts wiping his brow, sauntering over to me. His smile, his eyes, everything about him is relaxed, so similar to the way he is after sex.
    “You,” I start to say, running my fingers over his shoulders, down his arms, not caring about the sweat one bit. “You were amazing.”
    He gives me a dry look. “I was weak today. I’ve been quicker.”
    I shake my head. “You have no idea, do you?”
    He frowns at me and picks up a bottle of water, quickly screwing off the top before downing it. Nope. He has no idea at all what an amazing man he really is. His ego wouldn’t even let that fact settle in.
    Lachlan opts to hit the showers back at home, so we get in his car and are about to drive off when he gets a text from Thierry, his rugby teammate and friend, wanting to go out.
    “He wants to go to the Christmas market tonight,” Lachlan says. “But I’m okay with telling him no. We have a lot on our plate.”
    I like Thierry, even though I never got a chance to know him that well. He’s French and oh so handsome and charming. But more than that, I like seeing Lachlan around his friends, just as long as we don’t end up hanging out at a pub. I can tell though, that this is why Thierry suggested the market. It’s neutral ground and even if we were there last night, I don’t mind going back. It’s Christmas, after all.
    “It’s fine,” I assure him. “Really. Maybe this time we can go on the damn Ferris wheel.”
    However, when we go to the market later that night to meet Thierry, the line is just as long as before.
    “How about ice skating?” Thierry suggests, nodding in the direction of the ice rink which looks equally as packed.
    Here’s the thing about ice skating. I hate it. My balance is pretty non-existent, which was one reason why I used to do my fencing lessons back in San Francisco – it helped stabilize me. The one time I made it onto the ice, back when I was in grade school, I spent the whole time on my ass, while my crush, Billy Ga-Ga Green, made fun of me. It was mortifying and I never went skating again. Nor did I talk to Billy ever again.
    But I’m not about to tell Lachlan this, even though he’s eying me intently in that way that makes you want to give up all of your secrets.
    “Not a fan?” he asks.
    I give him and Thierry a tight smile. I don’t want to seem whiney and no fun, especially in front of his friend. “I’m just not very good at it,” I say simply.
    “Well I’ll tell you something,” Lachlan says, lowering his voice and leaning in slightly, his breath hot on my cheek, “I’m not very good either.”
    “Bullshit. You’re good at everything.”
    “No, it’s true,” Thierry says quickly, his Parisian accent making it sound so dramatic. “Believe him. The team had to do a photoshoot with us skating once and Lachlan was terrible. Just terrible.”
    Lachlan rolls his eyes. “It didn’t help that