Page 12 of Santa's Mistletoe Playbook

“Maybe because she wasn’t drinking when you met her?” Bryson’s annoyance flew off the charts after walking into this clusterfuck of insanity. Some things never change in the old hometown.

Monty pointed his beer bottle at him. “Dude, it wasn’t my place to play daddy.”

“But as a trusted friend, it was your place to watch out for my woman during her first time in Alaska!” snapped Bryson.

“I love Alaska,” slurred Danica with a dreamy look, hanging onto Bryson with a dopey grin.

She was out of it, so he ignored her to concentrate on his friend.

“Look, we’re sorry, aren’t we guys?” Monty slurred his appeal to Jamin and Benny, who had their tongues down the throats of their two lovelies.

Bryson worked hard to tamp back his anger. “I’ll settle this with you dickheads later.” He had plenty more to say, but this wasn’t the time or place to say it.

“Come on, Danica, let’s go.” Bryson took her arm and guided her to the door.

She had trouble putting one foot in front of the other and leaned heavily on him. “Please don’t be mad. That nice lady over there taught me to dance, so you’d make love to me.” She pointed in a vague direction.

Bryson knew better than to reason with her in this state. He stuffed her inside the truck, where she conked out and stayed that way all the way up to the house. After pulling into the garage, he carried her inside and up the stairs to bed.

He stepped downstairs to lock up and set the security alarm, and when he returned, Danica hugged the toilet with straggly tendrils draped over her face. Her thong circled her ankles, with tens, twenties and fifties scattered on the cold tile.

Monty was right. The bikers had showered her with plenty of greenbacks. At least Danica’s evening had paid for itself, he thought glumly.

Bryson tamed her tangled mane into a ponytail and left her there. He was too upset and fatigued to think about what he’d say to her in the morning.

CHAPTER SEVEN

DANICA

The next morning, Danica rolled over to see Bryson dressing in his scrubs for work. She tried to remember last night but blanked after they left Yukon Johnny’s.

Bryson turned around with an icy stare. “How are you feeling?”

“Not good. I think I messed up.” She put a hand to her aching forehead, too dizzy to sit up.

“Hm, you think?” he huffed in a bitter tone.

Danica’s stomach twisted, remorse eating her insides. “I’m so sorry, Bry. I got talked into those Jell-O shots.” She propped herself up on an elbow as the room spun.

“Who talked you into them?” He stood with his hands on his hips. “Let me guess. Monty, right?”

She nodded, clueless at what else to say.

Bryson threw up his arms. “I walk into a strip bar and see my girlfriend dancing at a biker table in her bra and underwear. What would you think if you saw me doing that with a bunch of women? How would you feel?” He shifted to the other foot.

“What do you mean? I danced in my underwear? No way!” Her heart thundered a mile a minute.No! That couldn’t have happened, could it?Then again, she hadn’t rememberedclimbing up to the top of that cell phone tower a few years ago, either.

“So, you don’t remember.” His mouth formed a straight line. “When I walked in, you were lap dancing for a bunch of bikers. Good thing you didn’t strip all the way. You would have been arrested.”

“In a stripper bar?” Heat crawled up Danica’s neck, and she closed an eye to steady her dizzying gaze at Bryson. “You’re making that up to make me feel bad for drinking.”

“Oh, yeah?” He raised his phone. “Monty texted this.”

Danica peered at the phone screen. Sure enough, there she was in a video, undulating for the bikers in nothing but her bra and skimpy thong.

“Holy mother of God!” she muttered, incredulous.

Bryson jammed his phone into his back pocket, his temple pulsating in and out. “I can’t get into this right now. We’ll talk when I get home from work.”

---