Page 9 of Vixen's Guide to Christmas
I chuckle under my breath and look in awe at Kat as she sits up a little taller, confident in her answer.
“Folks! We have an exact answer, but it didn’t matter for the automatic win because they were ahead the whole game. Your winners tonight, Claus Deep!”
“Woo!” Kat screeches, jumping up from her chair and celebrating. I join her, but I choose a fist pump. Much more manly.
I turn toward her, ready to say congratulations, when she throws her arms around my neck.
“Best partner ever!” she cries out as she hugs herself into me. I return the sentiment, bringing her in close.
Fuck, she feels good. Too good. So good I don’t want to let go.
Actually, I don’t want this night to end. Sure, I can get her number. I’m sure Hazel is sending responses to people who matched so we can connect that way. But I don’t want to wait.
“Hey,” I say as I brush my hands over her arms. “Want to keep this night going?”
Sure, I could’ve used some sort of line. Or been smoother about it. But I have a feeling Kat is a woman who appreciates the directness.
The grin on her face says that I’m right.
“What do you have in mind?”
I put my hand on the small of her back, leading her out of the bar. “I have a few ideas.”
guide to christmas (and love) rule #53
There’s no such thing as a perfect Christmas present. Even if he eats pussy and owns a dog.
3
kat
Fuck,I like this guy.
I really, really, like this guy.
Like I need to not like this guy the way I like this guy.
Okay, maybe that’s not the way to describe it. There’s noneedfor me to not like him. He’s good looking. Smart. Funny. The vibes have been there since the moment he sat down across from me. I’m not sure exactly what he does for work, but judging by the drinks he’s ordered, and the liquor he’s asked them to make it with, while also paired with his expensive watch and designer jeans, I’m going to say he’s doing well for himself.
The Katherine part of my brain is saying he’s checking off all the early boxes. But Katherine is also an overthinker and remembers the last time a good-looking man who wore expensive clothes and smelled like sin and seduction came walking into my life.
It was bad. Very bad. It ended bad, and it’s the reason for most of my trust issues.
Yet as Grayson comes walking back over with our drinks, me, right now as Kat, is telling Katherine to fuck all the way off. Because the way he’s holding himself, the slight grin on his handsome face, and the fact that he’s giving me a forearm showas he has his sleeves pushed up, the thoughts I’m having are purely Kat thoughts.
They’re dirty. So fucking dirty.
“Here we are, one gingerbread old fashioned,” Grayson says, placing my drink at the table we found at a cute pop-up holiday bar just off Broadway. We didn’t mean to come here, but we couldn’t help it when we walked past, saw the fun ambiance, and then heard the music the DJ was playing. “Shall we make a toast?”
I pick up my drink and lean into him. Because even though my Katherine brain is telling me to be cautious, my Kat body is clearly operating by the motto of “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”
“I think it’s a rule you have to.”
“To holiday magic,” he says.
“And to the presents you didn’t expect to get.”
We share a smile and tap our glasses, each of us taking a delicate sip of the?—
