A Cunningham Christmas Read Online Free Page A

someone—probably Lily—clapping for Ramona. I hear a couple of birds overhead. I hear a breeze rustling the dry branches of the trees along the edge of the property.
    But where the heck is Ward?
    I’ve been standing against this tree for a full four or five minutes now—which doesn’t seem like very long most of the time but is a lifetime when you’re out in the cold and trying not to move.
    Maybe I should move. Maybe I should jump out from behind the tree and pelt him before he even has a chance to aim at me.
    Honestly, at this point that seems like the best choice. I’ll go on the count of three.
    One…
    Two…
    Suddenly, I hear snow crunch from around the opposite side of the tree. I spin around, but it’s too late—Ward snuck up on me from the other side. Snow hits me in the face. Ward guffaws as the slush runs down my cheeks.
    Oh, no , I think as I wipe the snow away. He’s not getting the last laugh.
    He’s still laughing when I step forward and grab him by the scarf. The corners of his mouth turn up even more as I pull him toward me, and I pause, realizing he thinks I’m going to kiss him.
    Instead, when his face is only inches from mine, I take the snowball in my hand and slam it against the back of his neck, trying to get as much as I can beneath the collar of his coat. He yowls and jerks away from me, dancing and shaking as he tries to get the chunks of ice and snow to fall out of the bottom of his coat. I take the opportunity to run.
    I’m not far when I hear him coming after me once more. I duck behind a bush and grab some more snow, and this time I know better than to try and play defense. He won’t sneak up on me again.
    The game continues. I manage to hit him twice before he hits me again. But then he gets me three times before I’m able to land another snowball. We’ve managed to chase each other behind the house, and after just avoiding his latest slushy missile, I hide behind a statue and build up a couple of snowballs before running out into the open again.
    He’s closer than I thought. I get him with both snowballs— One! Two!— and he doesn’t have anything to throw at me in return. But suddenly, that doesn’t seem to matter. Instead of reaching down for more snow, he runs straight at me.
    I bolt, but his legs are a lot longer than mine. He catches up with me quickly, and we both go tumbling down into the snow. The air is knocked out of my lungs, but he doesn’t give me much time to recover. He rolls me over so that I’m looking up at him, and then he lowers himself down on me and kisses me.
    He’s unbelievably warm. I tug off my gloves so I can touch him, and his skin is like fire beneath my hands—at least the places where I can actually find skin. Most of him is buried beneath coat and scarf and too many stupid layers of wool.
    He kisses me again and again, never giving me a chance to catch my breath. It doesn’t matter. I let him kiss my breath away, let him push me deeper into the snow. His hands begin to unwind my scarf, and I don’t stop him. I’m not sure I need it anymore.
    My fingers grapple with the buttons of his coat. I won’t pull it off, not out here, but at least if it’s open I can run my hands against his chest through his sweater, feel his hard muscles beneath my touch.
    His mouth comes down on my throat, kissing and nibbling the delicate skin. The back of my neck is flush against the snow now that my scarf is out of the way, and the contrast between the freezing cold of the snow and the heat of his lips makes me shake. I’m trapped between two extremes, and my body doesn’t know what to do. I only know that I don’t want this to stop.
    His coat is finally open, and I slide my hands beneath it and wrap my arms around his body, pulling him fully on top of me again. Ward licks along the length of my collarbone, and I shiver.
    “You’re cold,” he murmurs against the base of my throat.
    I smile. “Well, we are lying in the snow.”
    He starts to pull