Page 90 of Santa's Girl
The Jingle Jam was already a success by the time the Outlaws hit the stage. Caroline was behind the raffle table, flirting outrageously with Jinx, who was eating it up like candy.
Pico had spiked the punch bowl when no one was looking. I figured it out only after half the PTA moms started dancing like they were back in college.
Bear stayed close, alternating between managing the crowd and managing me—his hands on my waist, his lips brushing my neck, his low voice promising me things that made my thighs press together.
I was supposed to be working.
But damn, he made it hard to focus.
He caught me staring during the band’s second set—him on rhythm guitar, looking like he’d been born on stage, rough and effortless.
He winked. My knees nearly buckled.
I tried to hide in the kitchen for five minutes of peace, but the matriarch of the women’s club found me.
“Young lady,” she said, pointing her cane at me. “This is the best fundraiser this town has seen in twenty years.”
“Uh… thank you?”
“I’m offering you the job. Permanent. Full-time. Director of Events. The center needs life, and you’ve got it.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
“You’re ours now.”
Then she waddled off like she’d just declared me mayor.
By ten p.m., the band was winding down. The crowd thinned. Couples danced. Kids napped in corners. Someone handed me a spiked eggnog. I found Bear leaning against the wall near the mistletoe.
He pulled me in close.
“You saved the night,” he said, brushing a kiss along my jaw. “Didn’t know my girl was a miracle worker.”
“Didn’t know my guy was a rock star.”
His lips found mine, slow and deep, right under the mistletoe. I felt his hand press against the small of my back, grounding me in the middle of this glittering, chaotic, perfect night.
“Let’s get outta here,” he whispered.
“I can’t,” I sighed. “I’m the boss now.”
“Damn right you are.” He kissed me again. “Still gonna steal you away later. Just so you know.”
I grinned. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart, baby.”
And he did.
Later that night, when the halls were dark and the decorations dimmed, he found me alone in the office, unzipping my boots. My feet just needed a minute.
He closed the door, locked it, and kissed me so hard my back hit the desk. “We can’t here.” I giggled.
“Yes, baby, we can. Remember that night at Margies, out back in the snow? You came so hard at the thrill of maybe getting caught?” His lips skimmed my neck and his hands were parting my thighs so he could step between.
“Yesss,” I groaned as his hands snaked under my camisole. But then my walkie talkie chirped. “Back to work, big guy,” I kissed him hard on the lips, my hand cupping his beard. “I’ll see you later on the dance floor.”
“Fine,” he huffed. “But I’m gonna need a minute here.”
