Page 21 of Santa's Girl
Jinx leaned close again. “Ignore him. He’s always like that.”
“Like what?”
“Watching everything.”
“Comforting,” I said dryly, lining up my next shot.
But when I bent forward, I could still feel Bear’s stare like static against my skin.
By the time Jinx cleared the table, my stomach was growling loud enough to compete with the jukebox.
McDaniel appeared with two plates that could’ve fed a construction crew—my cheeseburger stacked high and dripping, his loaded with chili fries. The smell hit me like a religious experience.
We grabbed a corner booth. Jinx slid in across from me, grinning as I demolished the first half of my burger. “You sure you’re not hiding a second stomach somewhere?”
“Don’t judge me,” I mumbled around a mouthful of bacon. “It’s been a day.”
He laughed and picked up his beer. For the first time in hours, the tight knot in my chest started to unwind.
Across the room, the women had decided I wasn’t a threat. Their eyes drifted away from me and back toward Bear. One brunette in a tight tank sauntered up to him, dragging a red-painted nail down his chest like she was writing her name there. She bit her lip, smiled slow—the kind of look that made every guy at the bar forget his drink.
Bear didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. He muttered something low, and whatever it was made her freeze. Her smile vanished. A beat later she turned and stalked off toward the bar, shoulders stiff.
I blinked. “Okay, what wasthat?”
Jinx smirked. “That’s Jess. Spent the summer in Bear’s bed. Thought it came with a title. He didn’t.”
“Wow.” I took a long sip of beer. “So… this is what soap operas would look like if they had more leather.”
“Pretty much.”
He leaned back, relaxed and easy. “What about you? What’s your story, Charlotte?”
“Charlotte?”
“Where you’re from.”
“Oh. Right.” I wiped my hands on a napkin. “Charlotte. I was on my way to visit family for Christmas. Lost my job, got dumped—well, technically he dogged me—and now he’s trying to crawl back. I’m just trying not to do something pathetic like drunk-dial him and end up in bed with my ex on Christmas Eve.”
Jinx nodded slowly. “Yeah, I get that.”
“You do?”
He pushed his plate aside, eyes thoughtful. “Was seeing someone from a rival club. Bad idea all around. Ended worse. But…” A small grin. “You’re the best thing I’ve seen in days.”
I smiled, shaking my head. “Smooth.”
He lifted his beer. “Maybe we keep each other’s minds off the exes for the holidays. Friendly distraction.”
I laughed. “That’s a thought, Jinx. But I am just not interested in any thing right now that isn’t caffeinated or contains chocolate.”
He clutched his chest. “Ouch. Brutal.”
“Truthful,” I said, clinking my bottle against his. The sound was sharp and cheerful. For the first time since the snowstorm, I actually felt human again.
Jinx’s eyes flicked past me, then back. “Careful, though. Think you caught the boss’s eye.”
I followed his gaze. Bear was still at the bar, beer in hand, talking to one of the older men—but his eyes were on me. Steady. Unreadable. That familiar static hummed under my skin.
