Page 839 of One More Kiss

Twirling.

Breezing.

I feel pulled, the invisible thread weaving, binding the air between us, charging the atmosphere.

My knees go weak as the corner of his lips edge up to one side, his pearly white teeth on display.

The man is handsome.

Muscular.

Fantasy.

He inclines his head, pointing his bottle to the empty seat opposite him.

My ass clenches and my heart thunders in my chest.

“He screams wild-in-bed material. Go to him.”

“What?” I snap back, the spell breaking, crashing me back to reality.

“Go, have fun. He’s inviting you, Oak.” Cal nods toward the silent wolf. “He fits your type. That man can crank your shaft. And your shaft needs some serious cranking. God knows your motor has seen no action in ages.”

“N-no, no. I’m good.” I lift my drink off the table and gulp it down with two sips. Suddenly, I feel thirsty. “I’ll just have one more drink, then I’m calling it a night.”

“You can have your one more drink with him. Go.”

“I don’t—” I shake my head.

“Oak, you are thirty-one and single, with no prospects of commingling in that dry town of Hope Valley. And this handsome hunk wants to spend some time with you—you can see it in his eyes—and you are here acting like a virgin with no reason to panic.” He huffs, shaking his head. “Live your life. Nobody is telling you to tie knots with him. Now go, or I’ll drag you myself. Which one do you want?”

I huff and flag a server for another drink, nerves skittering through every fiber.

Alcohol is the only thing that will help me have enough courage to endure this night and loosen the tension coiling in my shoulders.

The server brings two more drinks: wine for me, and whiskey on the rocks for Calder.

I pick up my glass as soon as they place it on the table and drink my wine like its water. Calder pushes his glass toward me. “Drink this too,” he encourages.

I lift the glass, letting the smoky, spicy flavor of whiskey waft into my nose. I swallow a big sip, letting the cool amber touch my mouth. The lilting sweetness floating through the bitter heat as it washes over and around my tongue burns down my throat.

The warmth of alcohol rushes through my blood, its immediate effect radiating in my chest.

I feel the blood zipping up to my cheeks, my lips tingling, eyelids fluttering, then lower.

This is good.

I’m enjoying the sweet and warm feeling inside me.

I should drink whiskey more often.

Why haven’t I ever had it before?

“Finish it fast!” Calder’s voice snaps my brain out of abstract thoughts, and I drink the whole content of the glass in two sips.

I close my eyes; the burning at the back of my throat has me scrunching them.

The warmth rushes headfirst everywhere, the roof of my mouth tingles,

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