Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
“I never lost faith.”
Wren’s relief turned to panic as the chanting around the bar grew louder.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
The blood alcohol levels reached through the roof, and the women were out of control. They weren’t ready for the entertainment to end.
Wren took Soren’s hand and tugged him toward the door. “We need to get out of here.”
“Wait.” Soren pulled her back. She expected him to say something about cashing out, but instead, he snatched the mistletoe off the nearest pendant light and slammed his lips to hers.
The roars blurred into white noise as Soren held nothing back—dipping her passionately so that she had no choice but to cling to him. His mouth tasted of whiskey and desperation, his body heat cutting through the cool winter air that seeped through the door.
“Merry Christmas, Wren.” He released her with a promising glint in his dark eyes, and she wobbled to her feet, her mind spinning.
Soren grinned, and launched their interlocked hands victoriously overhead—a proud crowd pleaser if there ever was one.
Wren’s face scorched as a hot flush rushed to her cheeks. “Soren, let go.” Tugging her hand free, she grabbed her bag and threw a few dollars on the bar, racing for the exit.
The cold air hit her burning face like ice as the door slammed behind her.
A second later, it opened and slammed again. “Wren, wait! Where are you going?”
She spun on him. “Why did you kiss me like that?”
He drew back, shocked by her temper. “I was just having fun.”
She shook her head. “Everyone’s going to talk about us.”
“So? Let them.”
She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I hate being the center of town gossip, Soren.”
“You’re overthinking it. We were just having fun. It’s for charity.” He shot his fingers in the air like pistols. “Go books.”
That reminded her. “I need two grand.”
“I don’t carry that kind of cash on me. Besides, if I pay the tab, they’ll know it was fixed. Pay with your card and I’ll write you a check tomorrow.”
Check? “Actually, you know what? I have a better idea.” She went to her car and retrieved her checkbook from her glove compartment. Soren glanced over her shoulder as she filled out the payee information.
“Whoa, what are you doing? Why are you making it out to my brother?”
“Because Greyson loves playing the humanitarian, and he refuses to take my money. Now, he’s Jocelyn’s problem.” She tore off the check, and Soren followed her back inside.
Jocelyn spotted them immediately. “Oh, there you two lovebirds are!” Her words slurred as she hung on Soren’s shoulder. “Where’d you go? Quickie in the parking lot?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Soren snickered, and Wren shot him a warning look.
“I had to get my checkbook. Here.” Wren handed her the check. “Put that somewhere safe. Tomorrow, get Greyson to endorse it.”
“Greyson?”
“Yeah.”
Jocelyn’s smile grew slow and beyond pleased. She clicked her tongue. “Aww, look at you giving me drama for Christmas! That’s exactly what I wanted.”
Part of her knew this was a mistake, but Grey left her with little choice. If he wasn’t going to accept her money, she’d make sure he put it to good use. “Just make sure he signs it. Don’t take no for an answer.”
“Aye-aye.” Jocelyn did a sloppy salute and knocked her glittered Viking helmet over her eyes.
“Perfect.” Wren now felt vindicated and smiled at Soren. “Let’s go.”
He dragged his feet when they hit the parking lot. “I’m confused. Why would Grey pay to bid on me in a bachelor auction?”
“It’s not about that.” She walked toward her car.
“Then what’s it about?”
“It’s a long story. But your brother refuses to take my money, so I’m taking away his choice.”
The two thousand didn’t dent the balance she still owed Greyson, but it seemed enough to make her point. She wasn’t a charity case. If he wanted to play the philanthropist, he could donate his paychecks to whatever fundraiser he chose—Hideaway certainly had enough of them.
“That’s gonna be a fight, Wren.”
“Why? He knows we went out. And he told me himself that he doesn’t care who I date.” She thought about how dismissive he acted toward her this evening, after he did things to her no man had ever done. “He’s getting exactly what he deserves.”
“Wren,” Soren scoffed. “We both know he cares.”
Fed up, she flung her hands out to the side. “Then where is he, Soren? Everyone’s always so certain Greyson’s hiding feelings for me. What if he’s not? What if he’s just a guy who grew up close to a girl, and that’s where the story ends?”
He seemed to want to argue. “Somehow, I know I’m gonna get punched for this.”
“If Grey punches you, you tell me. I’ll take care of him.”
Again, he scoffed. “Great, I have a bohemian lightweight for a bodyguard. I’ve never felt more masculine.” He sighed. “You want to go back to my place and have a drink? I could use one after that.”