Page 3 of Holiday Flame

“Or—worse—he could listen to Joe Rogan,” Piper adds.

They nod in unison while I’m still too stunned to speak. I mean, seriously. How can Mabel even suggest something like this? If it was that simple, or easy, wouldn’t I have done it already?

Does she really think that after all this time, I’d be fine boning some random dude?

I’m about to ask that very question—or at least try—when Maxine quietly interjects. “Actually, Mabel may be on to something.”

Everyone—except the genius in question—turns to gape at her.

“But—”

“I’m not saying Jade needs to sleep with the next man who walks into the bar. Or even the next guy who crosses her path. But”—Maxine holds up a hand before anyone can speak—“and this is the most important part if she—if you”—she directs her stare at me—“really ready to take this step. There are benefits of a mutually beneficial, purely physical relationship.”

“A physical-only relationship,” I repeat slowly as if I’m trying the words out for size or to see how they taste on my tongue.

“Absolutely. Approach it from a place of curiosity. A place of pure enjoyment without worrying about anything else.”

“So I’d look for a guy who only wants to spend time in bed?”

“Like that’ll be hard to find.” Astrid snorts. When four pairs of eyes land on her, her cheeks turn pink. “What? We all know most of the guys on dating apps are just looking to get someone into bed.”

“Which is exactly what Jade is looking for,” Mabel reminds her.

Paisley shakes her head. “I don’t know. Some of the men have to be looking for the real thing. Love. Commitment. Baking cookies together on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Ooh, cookies sound good.” Piper catches herself before licking her lips. “Sorry. I worked through lunch today. I would do bad, bad things for a plate of cookies.”

“Put a pin in that thought.” Mabel wiggles her eyebrows. “You might be able to give our friend Jade some tips about the kinds of bad things a lady could do to earn some cookies.”

Piper and I exchange looks and turn matching shades of pink.

Wanting to help her out, I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay. I’m going to stop worrying so much and just approach… sex,” I practically whisper the word, “from a place of curiosity and enjoyment.”

And maybe I won’t go into the new year a virgin after all.

“It’s too bad you didn’t decide to seduce the next guy who walked into the bar,” Mabel says. “I don’t think you’d mind finding him wrapped up with a bow under your tree.”

We all turn to see who she is talking about and my heart jolts. It’s Remington. One of my brother’s best friends and fellow smokejumpers.

With his tall, broad-shouldered frame, he saunters across the bar with a gait that seems to exude confidence and sexuality. His beard is growing in thicker, a sign that wildfire season is over, and he can let it grow free until the next year rolls around.

While I can’t quite see them, I know his dark brown eyes are rich like chocolate. And every bit as sinful.

I press my thighs together at the unexpected warmth suddenly between them.

Remington is a man with plenty of notches on his bedpost and a cell phone full of numbers to very satisfied ladies. That’s definitely not the kind of guy you’d take home to celebrateChristmas with my family. But if the stories are right, he’s the exact kind of man to introduce a woman to the… enjoyment she might find in bed.

Remington. A slow grin spreads across my lips.

TWO

REMINGTON

Pushing the drooping Santa cap back in place on my head, I twirl the dart between my fingers. “How much do you want to bet I can hit the bullseye with my eyes closed?”

My best friend Maverick arches an eyebrow. “Why would you want to throw a dart with your eyes closed?”

I lift a shoulder. “To prove that I can.”

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