Page 50 of Evergreen Christmas

Nate stood. “Just for tonight, I will lower myself and participate in this humiliating display—even you will be proud.” He snapped his fingers. “Now, I mean it. Get up and come to the bathroom. We’re swapping clothes . . . or scraps of clothing.”

It took Nate two minutes to drag Tucker through the crowd to the small bathroom at the back of the bar. It took another minute for Tucker to strip out of his skimpy outfit, grumbling all the while about missing out on a chance to spend time with his dream woman. Two more minutes later, Nate had successfully swapped outfits with Tucker and stood in front of the small bathroom mirror over the sink, eyeing his exposed chest with discomfort.

Good Lord, what if Roxie heard about this? What kind of example was this to set for his young, impressionable daughter—especially when he’d already worked so hard to help her see the value of a person’s character rather than their appearance.

Yet, here he was, half naked, about to shake his butt for a bunch of screaming women.

He winced. “This is the most distasteful, sexist display I’ve ever—”

“Oh, shove it, Nate!” Tucker pushed him out of the bathroom and back into the noisy, crowded bar. “You’re getting your shot with Jordyn and depriving me of the opportunity to let a woman take advantage of my spectacular physique for the night. Just enjoy the evening, Casanova.”

That was easy for Tucker to say. He was now dressed warmly and respectably in Nate’s jeans and flannel button-down shirt, whereas Nate was walking half naked through a pack of leering women.

“Oh, my!” a female voice shouted in the crowd. “Nate Reed is jumping into the mix this year! Have you ever seen such magnificent pecs? Nate, honey, you’ve got my vote!”

Heat snaked up Nate’s neck as applause broke out from the women who stood opposite the men in the small bar. He ducked his head and soldiered on, returning to the bar and sitting on a barstool beside Tucker.

Jordyn, standing on the opposite side of the room among the other women, met Nate’s eyes, a surprised grin spreading across her face. She held his gaze as her brows rose in question.

Face now burning, too, he shrugged sheepishly and ducked his head.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” Carol Belle announced from the stage at the other end of the bar. “It’s that time. The rules are the same as last year”—she smiled—“namely, there aren’t any, other than whoever’s left standing—however unsteadily—in the drinking contest, wins. And men will have first choice of Sexy Santa partner this year since the ladies had first choice last year. To kick off the choosing of partners, Nate Reed will have first choice tonight since this is the first year he’s participated in Sexy Santa’s Eggnog Nod contest.” She glanced across the room and gestured toward Nate. “Go ahead, Nate—choose your partner!”

Nate stood, rubbing his bare arms to ward off the cold as applause broke out. One person shouted, “About time you joined us, Nate!” as he walked to the center of the small room. He kept walking, weaving past several women before he stopped in front of Jordyn and held out his hand. “Jordyn, would you do me the honor of being my Sexy Santa partner for the evening?”

Good Lord! No matter how much respectful dignity he tried to infuse into the invitation, it still sounded ridiculous as the words left his lips.

Jordyn laughed, the soft, flirty sound sending a delicious shiver over his skin that dispelled the cold and left a streak of heat. “I’d be honored.”

She slipped her hand in his and it fit perfectly. He led her toward the stage, where they took their place at the front of the line, waiting for the rest of the participants to choose their partners and join them.

“Have you really never participated in this contest before?” Jordyn asked, smiling at him.

Nate crossed his arms over his bare chest, deeply aware of the attention they were attracting. “Nope. It’s not exactly my kind of thing.”

Jordyn laughed. “I can tell.” Her gaze swept over him from head to toe and she winked. “But the look sure suits you.”

Her flirtatious amusement made him smile. “Oh, you like this getup, do you?” Uncrossing his arms, he lowered them to his sides and flexed his pectorals. “You’re not the only one. I have it on good authority that my pecs are well appreciated.”

She threw her head back and laughed, the rich joyful sound music to his ears.

Take that, Mason Walker!

“So long as you give it your all on that stage, Neighbor Nate,” she teased. “I assure you that I’m just as uncomfortable as you are, but we both need this win.”

“Agreed.” He looked down at her, admiring her long lashes, bright eyes, creamy skin and soft, red mouth. “With you on my arm, I can guarantee a win. If I forget to tell you later . . .” He hesitated, then whispered, “You’re the most beautiful woman in this room, Jordyn Banks.”

Her lips parted as her eyes roved over his face, the pretty blush on her cheeks deepening. “Thank you. And thank you, too, for choosing me as your partner—even though I’m going to drink you under the eggnog table later.” She rose to her toes, her warm mouth brushing his temple as she whispered in his ear, “There’s not another man in the world I’d rather spend tonight with.”

Lord help him! He could swear his heart actually stopped beating as his brain absorbed her words. His mind reeled as his pulse raced, searching for a suitably flattering reply. “I . . . I—uh, me, too.”

Oh, man. Way to sweep her off her feet!

She didn’t seem to mind though. She looped her arm around his and grinned as Carol Belle called them to the stage to strut their stuff. “Let’s give this crowd a glimpse of what a Sexy Santa should look like.”

And they did. He and Jordyn sashayed across the stage, arm in arm, to a particularly sexy Christmas tune, delighting in the applause of the crowd. They danced to the pulsing beat, and he spun Jordyn gently in his arms, then dipped her for the crowd. During the upbeat chorus, she cradled his biceps, showing them off, then, at the pleading of the crowd, she even spun him around and lightly smacked his backside for good measure.

Surprisingly, Nate enjoyed himself. Perhaps a little too much, considering that two hours later, well into the Eggnog Nod portion of the contest, Drake Stone’s liquor-infused eggnog had lost its burn as it coursed down his throat, and he’d grown rather fond of the fuzzy, cotton-wool feel of inebriation pulsing through his veins.

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