Page 167 of The Holiday Clause
“What?” she screamed over the music, unable to hear him.
That was fine. He’d much rather show her. Grinning, he dipped her back without warning, planting his lips on her with unmistakable entitlement for all of Hideaway Harbor to see.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss or a private one. He intentionally gave the town a show-stopping, hat-snatching, sunglass-tossing, spine-arching, breathless spectacle that couldn’t possibly bemisinterpreted by his brothers or anyone else. It was a public declaration that would leave no room for doubt about who Wren belonged to.
The crowd roared, and Wren laughed against his mouth, then smacked his chest. “You’re insane.”
“I’m staking my claim,” he said, eyes glinting with fierce intention. “There will be no more confusion about which Hawthorne you’re with from this point on.”
Rolling her eyes, her cheeks a deep ruby rose, she shook her head. “You’re a caveman.”
He yanked her to his side and proudly grinned with absolute male arrogance. “A caveman who’s finally got his perfect cave woman.”
She batted the hair out of her face and shook her head. “Suddenly, you’re an exhibitionist?”
“I spent almost two decades hiding my feelings. Time to switch things up.”
“I’m so glad I could assist you with that.”
Beyond the wharf, Ralph tripped and fell on his claws. Locke missed a step and nearly pitched over the lobster’s tail. The crowd cheered when Santa caught his balance in a dramatic leap that landed him right in front of the lobster trap tree.
“Ho-ho-ho!” the mayor called out, lifting the plug to light the tree. “Merry Christmas, Hideaway Harbor!”
The crowd cheered as the traps illuminated under the bright twinkling lights. Staggering forward and waving, Larry theLobstahshoved Santa aside. The two spent the next few minutes trying to outperform each other, but Greyson had other plans.
“Have you ever seen the cabin of a fishing boat?”
Looking up at him knowingly, Wren smiled. “I can’t say I have.”
“Come with me.” His voice turned rough with promise. “I’ll show you the catch of the day.”
CHAPTER 25
“Brandy and Eggnog, There’s Plenty of Cheer”
“You dirty slut!”
Everyone in the Chowder House turned as Jocelyn barreled through the mob of patrons like a Viking queen on the front lines.
“Oh, shit.” Despite bracing for the collision, Wren was pummeled against the bar when her best friend plowed into her—full force—with a tackle hug.
“I saw you kissing on the ship, you naughty girl!”
Heat blazed across Wren’s cheeks. “Shhh.”
“Oh, please.” Jocelyn waved away her prudent words. “Everyone saw.” Punching Greyson in the arm, she grinned admirably. “Grey, you put that little brother of yours to shame! Nicely done.” Turning back to Wren, Jocelyn smiled around the swizzle straw of her half-drunk cocktail. “Soooo…how’s the cherry? Popped, I imagine.”
“Oh, my God.” Hiding her burning face in her hands, Wren peeked through her fingers at Greyson. “Maybe I will take that whiskey after all.”
“Two whiskeys,” Greyson yelled to the bartender.
Straightening her cockeyed Viking helmet, still adorned with the dangling clitoris ornaments hanging from each horn, Jocelyn frowned. “Two?”
Greyson shook his head. “You look plenty hydrated.”
“You’re no fun.” She stuck out her tongue and turned to Wren. “Tell your boy toy to loosen up.”
“I claim no control over any Hawthorne.”
