Page 87 of The Holiday Clause
“I had to get my checkbook. Here.” Wren handed her the check. “Put that somewhere safe. Tomorrow, get Greyson to endorse it.”
“Greyson?”
“Yeah.”
Jocelyn’s smile grew slow and beyond pleased. She clicked her tongue. “Aww, look at you giving me drama for Christmas! That’s exactly what I wanted.”
Part of her knew this was a mistake, but Grey left her with little choice. If he wasn’t going to accept her money, she’d make sure he put it to good use. “Just make sure he signs it. Don’t take no for an answer.”
“Aye-aye.” Jocelyn did a sloppy salute and knocked her glittered Viking helmet over her eyes.
“Perfect.” Wren now felt vindicated and smiled at Soren. “Let’s go.”
He dragged his feet when they hit the parking lot. “I’m confused. Why would Grey pay to bid on me in a bachelor auction?”
“It’s not about that.” She walked toward her car.
“Then what’s it about?”
“It’s a long story. But your brother refuses to take my money, so I’m taking away his choice.”
The two thousand didn’t dent the balance she still owed Greyson, but it seemed enough to make her point. She wasn’t a charity case. If he wanted to play the philanthropist, he could donate his paychecks to whatever fundraiser he chose—Hideaway certainly had enough of them.
“That’s gonna be a fight, Wren.”
“Why? He knows we went out. And he told me himself that he doesn’t care who I date.” She thought about how dismissive he acted toward her this evening, after he did things to her no man had ever done. “He’s getting exactly what he deserves.”
“Wren,” Soren scoffed. “We both know he cares.”
Fed up, she flung her hands out to the side. “Then where is he, Soren? Everyone’s always so certain Greyson’s hiding feelings for me. What if he’s not? What if he’s just a guy who grew up close to a girl, and that’s where the story ends?”
He seemed to want to argue. “Somehow, I know I’m gonna get punched for this.”
“If Grey punches you, you tell me. I’ll take care of him.”
Again, he scoffed. “Great, I have a bohemian lightweight for a bodyguard. I’ve never felt more masculine.” He sighed. “You want to go back to my place and have a drink? I could use one after that.”
“I can’t.”
She might be fed up with Greyson and his mind games, but it felt wrong to follow another Greyson encounter with a Soren date—or whatever the hell this was. There had to be some unspoken rule about playing the field with brothers within the same twenty-four-hour span.
“Besides, we have our date this weekend,” she reminded.
“Fine. But that’s not the one you paid for. You’ve gotta get your money’s worth, and I plan on pulling out all the stops.”
“I didn’t actually pay for a date.”
“Doesn’t matter. You won the auction, and as official Bachelor Number Twelve, I’m obligated to deliver you a good time. It’s my civic duty.”
“Well, you’ll have to take a raincheck. I promised Bodhi I’d hang out with him for the parade and fireworks.”
“That’s fine. Gives me time to plan something really special. But we’re still on for tomorrow night.” He brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Pick you up around seven.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
On the ride home, her mind dwelt on the echo of screams as Soren kissed her. The gossips in this town lived for drama like that. Such a juicy public display of affection could haunt her for life.
“Crap.” This would never pass without Greyson finding out about the kiss.
