Page 86 of The Holiday Clause
A collective gasp rippled across the bar. Her antlered opponent tossed her paddle onto the table in defeat.
“Sold, to Ms. Wren Wilde!” Applause erupted, and Soren loped off the stage, not stopping until he scooped Wren off her stool and into his arms. Holiday music exploded from the speakers and the room spun as he twirled her around.
“Kiss her!” Women yelled from various corners of the lounge.
Soren handed Wren his red rose and purred in her ear, “My hero.”
Wren sniffed the rose and blew out a breath. “That was intense! I almost failed you.”
“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.
