Page 29 of Holiday Flame

“Cocktails.” Paisley giggles, her eyes glossy ever since she downed that third Negroni. “I bet you could tell us some pretty good cock tales.”

Too late. We’ve flown way past silly.

The girls start talking over themselves speculating about the finer points of my sex life. Astrid guesses Remington boasts more length than girth while Piper insists it’s the other way around. Paisley wonders aloud if we’ve ever done it in the Firth Mountain Smokejumper chopper. And Mabel tries to change the subject to a rumor that a certain nearby property featured in a famous movie franchise might be coming up for sale.

All the while, Maxine shakes her head at the questions of female anatomy, blaming the lack of sexual education and anatomy in schools.

It’s all verySex and the City: Alaskan Christmas edition.

“Oh, jeez,” I say again, wishing I could disappear into the bar’s scuffed wood floors.

Our only chance of getting out of here without one of us doing something to get banned or—more importantly—my cheeks actually catching on fire from all of the blushing, is to bring this evening to an end.

Almost as if he could sense my distress, Remington comes to my rescue. I smell his spicy pine and amber musk a second before his thick arms slide over my shoulders to wrap around my waist.

“Hey, baby.” He nuzzles the side of my neck, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. The knit wool from the sweater I gave him tickles my arms.

“Ahem,” Mabel clears her throat with a stern.

“Oh, sorry.” Remington looks up without loosening his hold on me. “Hello, ladies.”

“I meant—ahem, you’re early.” She feigns a frown, though her sparkling eyes hint at her amusement. “You’re interrupting Girls’ Night.”

“My apologies, ladies.” He gives me a gentle squeeze. “I can leave you to it and find a dart game to join.”

“That’s okay.” I reach for my purse and fake a yawn. “I’m actually really tired.”

“Is tired a code name for horny?” Piper asks in a loud whisper.

Through a chorus of catcalls and protests, Maxine raises her voice. “Come on, ladies. Let’s let the newly engaged couple have some time to themselves.”

She winks at me, and I mouth a silent “Thank you.”

Remington helps me stand and slides an arm around my waist. The sweet gesture proves necessary as I stumble over my own feet as we make our way through the crowded bar. It’s especially busy with Christmas only days away.

When I nearly run into one of the Christmas trees haphazardly placed in our path, he tightens his hold and darts a worried gaze my way. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I mask a yawn. “But let’s just say it’s good you arrived to rescue me before the girls could order another round of drinks or shots.”

He nods in understanding and silently helps me to his truck. He clasps the seatbelt over my waist and brushes a lock of hair away from my face.

My insides quiver. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

“Is that what you want for Christmas?”

My belly clenches. “Maybe.”

“I suppose it depends.” His low, gruff voice stokes the embers inside me. “Have you been a good girl or a naughty girl?”

“What if I say I’ve been a good girl?”

His lips curl up and he leans forward to press them against my forehead, cheeks, and the corners of my lips.

“That was nice.” My heavy eyelids flutter. “Now, which one does the naughty girl get?”

“That one has to wait until we’re behind closed doors.”

“I don’t want to wait.” I pout.

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