Free Christmas With You by Tracey Alvarez Page B

the whole time, her gaze remained cool and detached. While his father’s label stung, Carly suddenly constructing a wall around herself felt like an unbearable itch between his shoulder blades.
    “You okay?” he said quietly, as his father headed toward the vehicle.
    Her hair whispered over her shirt as she turned to face him. “I’m fine.”
    “The two most loaded words in a woman’s vocabulary.” An auburn strand caught on the headrest, and he eased it off before it snagged in her seatbelt. A convenient excuse to touch her. “Are you I wanna kick you in the nuts again fine, or I don’t wanna discuss this fine?”
    “I haven’t decided.” She opened the door and climbed out. “I should get going, anyway.”
    His father appeared behind her. “Not so fast. Heather and the girls are expecting you inside.”
    Carly shot a glance at Kip. “Really, I should be—”
    “They’re arguing about oven temperatures and where the best place is to stick a turkey thermometer.” James gave an exaggerated shudder. “Please, honey, help a man out.”
    “All right, a quick visit.” With one more long, indecipherable stare in Kip’s direction, she walked away.
    Kip climbed out of the cab and opened the back door to release Logan from his booster seat. “Laying it on a bit thick to get her to stay, weren’t you?”
    His father opened the opposite door and smirked. “Worked better than whatever you were saying, hotshot.”
    “Yeah yeah.”
    They unbuckled the twins and hauled them out, then watched them run whooping into the house. His father eyeballed him over the ute’s roof.
    “Girls this far south must be too hot for you to handle.”
    Kip snorted out a laugh and slammed the back door. “This the lead-in for you telling me about all the eligible women back in Bounty Bay, Dad?”
    “Wouldn’t dream of it, son.” James ambled around to the rear of the vehicle and unhooked the bungee-cord keeping the tree in place. “Though my informants tell me Becca broke it off with her latest man.”
    “That ship sailed a long time ago.” Kip moved to the flatbed and grabbed a needle-covered branch. “How about we get this damn tree inside, so Mum can talk Carly into helping decorate it?”
    His father’s blue eyes crinkled over the spiky green needles. “Butt the hell outta my business, Dad?”
    Kip found a wry smile and applied it, dragging the trunk toward him. “Got it in one.”
    Thirty minutes later, Kip slumped onto the couch and watched Carly lift up Lucas so he could hang a golden bauble on the tree. Mission two, underway. And unless she was a better actress than he’d credited, Carly appeared to be enjoying herself.
    Lowering the boy to his feet, she glanced over. A jolt fired into his gut as her gaze connected with his, like one of the strung lights had zapped him. She stepped over a tangle of silver and gold tinsel, crossing the room to sit beside him.
    Curling her legs under her, Carly propped her elbow on the couch back, her blouse gaping to display the rise of her left breast, a sliver of white lace contrasting against a light smattering of freckles. “How does it look?”
    So delicious, so tempting, he wouldn’t be able to resist a taste for much longer. But she probably meant the decorations. Kip swiped a palm down his thigh and wrenched his gaze away from her chest.
    He nodded at the tree, as if he hadn’t been daydreaming about counting the freckles covering her breasts…with his tongue. “Ah…like someone rapid-fired mini disco balls at it from an automatic launcher then wrapped twenty feet of tinsel around it in an asphyxiation attempt.”
    She laughed, and her hair slipped over her shoulder, dangling into her cleavage. Lucky, lucky hair. God, he was so screwed if he ended up with a hard-on with his sisters around.
    “I know what you’re doing, Kip.” Her voice was pitched low, husky and intimate.
    He leaned forward to brace his elbows on his knees, hoping to look like a guy studying the