Page 53 of A Christmas For Holly

“You think we’ll still be stuck here that long?” I asked, feeling a weird mixture of warm and unfamiliar. I couldn’t help but blurt out, “We’d end up with cabin fever and hate each other.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow at me. “That’s some imagination you have there.”

I grimaced.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled, trying to shake off my conflicting emotions. I didn’t want him to hate me. I wanted him to like me.

Like me a lot.

Maybe.

He leaned over the side of the sofa and pulled out a brightly colored box. “Found this,” he said, flipping open the lid to reveal two decks of cards and a bunch of plastic chips. “Wanna play poker?”

I grinned, feeling the competitive spark light up inside me. “We used to play on the team flights all the time—I always won.”

Lucas smirked. “And I’m the family champion. Well, after Bailey—his poker face is insane.”

“Cute, sweet Bailey?”

Lucas pretend-shuddered. “Behind all those curls and that cute, he’s a card shark.”

And just like that, the tension melted away, replaced with something familiar. Something easy. It was on.

We sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, the game in full swing. The plastic coins were stacked before Lucas, while my pile was pitiful. He was winning—no, destroying me—and I couldn’t even blame my lack of skill. The truth was, I couldn’t focus on shit.

Every time Lucas leaned forward, his shirt stretched enough for me to glimpse his collarbone. Now and then, our toes would touch under the table, sending an electric jolt straight to my cock. I felt like I was coming out of my skin, constantly aroused and unable to think straight. All I could focus on was how beautiful Lucas looked, how much I wanted to lean over and kiss him again, feel the warmth of his mouth on mine.

He dealt the next hand, his fingers quick and precise, but I was only half paying attention to the cards before me. All I could think about was him.

“You’re not even trying,” Lucas teased, his lips curling into that damn smile that made my heart race.

“I’m trying,” I mumbled, knowing it was a lie. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate when he looked likethat?

Lucas raised an eyebrow, amused by my distraction, but said nothing. We played a few more hands, and he kept winning, his pile of chips growing while mine dwindled. I kept losing because every time he shifted, my gaze went to how his muscles moved under his shirt and how his hair fell messily across his forehead. I couldn’t stop staring.

I was down to my last few chips when Lucas went all-in. He sat back, confident, his eyes glinting with amusement as if daring me to make a move. I glanced down at my cards—three of a kind. It wasn’t the best hand, but it wasn’t terrible either.

Screw it.

I matched his bet, pushing my remaining chips into the center. Lucas flipped his cards over—two pairs. My heart leaped as I realized I’d won.Finally.

“Yes!” I jumped up, pumping my fists in the air. “I finally beat you!”

Lucas chuckled, watching me with a mix of amusement and something else, something warmer. But I was too busy celebrating. I couldn’t help it—I’d been losing all night, and the small win felt too good. So good that I turned around and did a little victory dance, shaking my ass, probably looking ridiculous, but I didn’t care. I was on a high.

“Uh-huh, that’s right!” I boasted, shimmying in place. “Look who just won!”

I was so caught up in my moment I didn’t even notice Lucas had stood up until I felt him grab my wrist, tugging me back toward him. Before I could say anything, his lips were on mine, cutting off whatever nonsense I’d been about to spew. The kiss was possessive, and all that pent-up energy I felt had an outlet.

His other hand slid up my back, tugging me closer. The kiss deepened and heated in seconds. I melted into it, letting his taste flood my senses, the poker game long forgotten. My hands found his waist, pulling him flush against me as I kissed him back hard and hungry. Every touch, every press of his lips, felt like fire.

I wanted this: what I’d been aching for all night. My head spun with the intensity of it, my pulse racing as he held me tight.

He eased back just enough to catch his breath, his lips brushing mine. “You think you’rethatgood at poker?” he teased, his voice low and rough.

I grinned, still breathless. “I just beat you, didn’t I?”

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