Page 36 of Wicked Love

Her voice turned bored. “Today’s special is our version of the Eggnog and the Elf-Ale, our green draft beer?”

“Green draft beer? Is it slimy?”

The girl laughed. “Nah. I can work with a sense of humor. Old plain beer with green food coloring. It’s supposed to be more Christmassy.”

“Oh. I’ll stick to regular beer. And any Christmas-themed drinks with vodka?”

“Sure. The Silver Bell and The Midnight Star. The first one is mixed with lime and the Midnight Star is more like a spiked lemonade.”

“One Midnight Star.”

“Good. I’ll be right back.” Her hand brushed my shoulder in a not-so-subtle attempt to let me know she was still interested. I knew her type. I’d fucked dozens of girls like her in the past.

She flashed me a large smile and sashayed toward the bar. I ignored her and brought my attention back to the couple rocking the stage, belting out the lyrics of a song I still couldn’t recognize.

“I’m sixth on the list,” Grace said as she joined me and sat back in her seat.

Santa’s Lodge was small. No more than six people could sit at the bar. Fourteen small round tables were scattered around the space, battery-operated candles set in the middle of each one, giving the bar a laid-back ambience. Dark red carpeted floor and box beam ceiling completed the decor. The place was another Dick’s Hole, some sort of establishment in a little town, but with a more sophisticated interior design.

“Did you order us something?” Grace asked, pointing to the bar behind her.

“Yes. A beer for me and a Midnight Star for you.”

She watched me with interest. “What is it?”

“The server described it as a spiked lemonade. With vodka. I thought it was your kind of poison.”

“Well, you thought right.”

We were on our second round of drinks when Grace’s name was announced.

She jumped to her feet, excitement pouring out from her. “How do I look?” she asked, adjusting the red top she wore with a pair of dark jeans and ankle boots.

“Perfect.” I lifted my bottle of beer. “Go, make me proud,” I said with a grin.

A soft blush crept up her cheeks. “I’ll try.”

Grace exchanged a few words with the guy in charge of the karaoke and walked on the stage. I perused the room. She possessed a magnetism hard to ignore. All the eyes were aimed at her.

We exchanged a smile. I hoped she could tell how incredible I found her.

Grace sang her own rendition of Winter Night.

People clapped and sang along.

A genuine smile painted her lips.

She was happy and, in that instant, reminded me of Isla De la Durantaye, the carefree girl I met almost two months ago. Minus the armor.

“How was I?” she asked once she was finished and returned to our table, chugging half of her drink. “Sorry, I was thirsty.”

“You were born to rock that stage.”

A loud chuckle bubbled out. “Thanks. I had fun, and that’s what counts, right? A girl gotta pee. I’ll be right back.”

The second Grace disappeared toward the restrooms, the waitress came back. She dropped her pen right by my feet and made a show of bending forward and pushing her ass against my thigh while she picked it up. She faced me again, toying with the same pen between her lips. “Anything on or off the menu you’d like?”

“No. All good.”