Page 153 of The Holiday Clause

“I’m going home with you. Tonight.”

“Because…?”

“I don’t wanna talk anymore, Wren. I’m done with talking and I’m done with waiting.”

Her belly swooped. “You mean…”

“Yes. It’s happening. Tonight.”

She looked up at him, once again finding it difficult to breathe. She was suddenly aware of every hidden crevice on her body as strange sensations fluttered at every nerve ending.

Her voice trembled, “O-okay.”

“I’ll pick you up at five.” He pinched her chin and brushed another kiss across her lips, and whispered, “We’re crossing lines that can’t be uncrossed, and that will be the end of it. No more mixed signals. Understand?”

Her entire body had a pulse as he released her, and she clung to the inventory racks so her knees didn’t give out. She nodded her consent as he opened the door.

In a daze, she watched as he exited the stock room. Astrid, Lilly, Bodhi, and Drummond still gathered in the hall.

Greyson stepped out and looked directly at Drummond and growled, “Watch it.”

The four turned to stare as Greyson exited The Haven.

“Wait until Lady Lovewatch hears about this.” Astrid fanned her flushed cheeks.

Bodhi looked at Wren in confusion. “Did I miss something?”

Drummond frowned. “So, what’s the verdict on earplugs?”

Lilly turned on him. “Seriously, dude?”

Wren snapped out of her daze. “Lilly, find Mr. Drummond whatever he needs. Dad, you and Aunt Astrid need to make sure the studio door is closed for tonight’s session. I need my keys.”

“Where are you going?” Bodhi followed her out of the supply closet and down the hall.

“I have errands to run.”

“Now? We have a class tonight.”

“I can’t make it.”

He stopped, and she paused, realizing the sudden change of plans might trigger an episode. Calmly, she clasped his shoulders. “Dad, you and Aunt Astrid are going to have an amazing class. You’ve got this.”

He smiled as something shifted in his eyes. “You sound like your mother.”

She grinned, never disappointed to hear that. “The towers are out, so if you need anything, use the radios.”

He drew back his shoulders and lifted his chin. “I won’t need anything. You go run your errands.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

As soon as she found her car keys, she drove to Jocelyn’s. Her friend didn’t like having her writing time interrupted, and as Wren pounded on her door, she vaguely heard grumbles from the other side—something about the vicious fate of those who rudely interrupted a Viking’s orgasm.

“This is exactly why the Vikings died out.” The door whipped open mid-threat. “Don’t you people—Wren?” Her scowl flipped to a blasé greeting. “Come in.”

Wren didn’t move from the threshold as Jocelyn drifted through the house.

“We really need a secret knock,” her friend continued from somewhere in the kitchen. “I almost castrated you for interrupting my sex scene. Ragnar the Fierce was just about to blow his load.”