Page 83 of The Holiday Clause

“Joce, shh!” Wren winced and quickly looked around for anyone eavesdropping. “And no.”

“Blow him?”

Realizing she wouldn’t stop, Wren blushed and whispered, “It went the other way around.”

Her eyes went wide and she leaned in. “Really?” She grinned, her gaze drifting upward.

“Stop trying to imagine it!”

“What? That’s what I do!” She laughed. “If you had a nooner with Grey, why the hell are you here?”

“To support my friend.”

“No, Wren. If you were making progress with one, why would you come to rescue the other?”

“We’re just friends, Joce. I’m only here because Soren begged me.”

“Sounds like a setup if you ask me.”

“Logan signed him up as a prank.”

“I know.” She laughed. “I was there. But if you ask me, it’s not much of a prank if Soren gets to go home with you.”

“No one’s going home with me. It’s only for a date, anyway, right?” Leave it to Jocelyn to start a prostitution ring in their wholesome little town.

She held up her palms. “Hey, where people put their no-nos on said date remains totally up to them.”

“You’re a master of prose.”

“Don’t judge me. I’ve had enough rum to sedate Santa himself.” Jocelyn sipped from the tiny swizzle straw of her red cocktail and snorted. “Logan’s his own worst cockblocker. What did he think would happen?”

“Speaking of Santa...” Wren lifted the paddle she received when she bought her ticket at the door. It featured a sexy, shirtless Saint Nick glued to a tongue depressor stick. “Is this your doing?”

“Good swag remains the name of the game, my friend.” A number appeared printed boldly on the back of each paddle. “And you’re gonna need that to bid on your boyfriend’s brother.”

“Jocelyn! He’s not my boyfriend.”

She smirked. “Exactly why you have every right to take someone else home tonight. I can’t wait until Grey finds out.”

“Why do you hate me?”

“Honey, I love you. That’s why I want this for you. Sometimes, us women need to light a fire under a man’s ass.” She flicked the sexy Santa paddle. “This will get Greyson Hawthorne’s temper burning red hot. May the horned god of Yule be with you. The competition’s fierce, and Soren’s stirring a lot of interest.”

“Ugh, I sort of hoped this could be a discreet transaction.”

If Wren publicly bid on Soren, the town would assume something was going on between them. Which it sort of was. But not really. It was a delicate balance, and they didn’t need meddlers to add pressure to the situation. “I’m so fucked.”

“You don’t have to save him, Wren. Soren’s a big boy. He’ll figure it out.”

She debated, unsure if she would rescue him from a mystery date or let him take the fall. She decided to play it by ear. “Honestly, I’m not sure I have the stamina to face off with these women.”

Jocelyn grinned proudly. “They’re a voracious bunch, but that’s why I love them.” She looked at her smartwatch. “Oh, shit, that’s Lola. It’s time to start the show. I gotta go.”

“Good luck!”

Jocelyn raced to the stage, grabbing a glitter-covered, horned Viking helmet from Lola on the way. Wren laughed and rolled her eyes when she noticed more naughty ornaments hanging from each horn. With her thigh-high boots and ruby red corset, she looked like a bedazzled concubine from the Middle Ages waiting for a possessive Norse god to take her away.

She took the stage and yelled into the microphone. “Are we ready to have some fun, ladies?”