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A 'Mr. Mistletoe' bonus scene


Three weeks later


This is my territory. My friends, my city, my life. 

I’m not sure Clark is ready for it.

I check the time and fidget with the straw in my drink. Only a few more hours remain in the year. I’m nursing a soda water with lime because I don’t want to be drunk when Clark arrives. I want to be clearheaded when I see him again. His gorgeous face does enough to cloud my mind. 

It occurs to me for the countless time that night that Clark might not show up. 

It’s not as if we’re dating. We don’t owe each other anything. Not even a date for New Year’s. 

“I always liked that dress.” 

At the sound of a deep, familiar voice, I turn and see Kyle. He’s perfectly groomed as always. His dark hair is neatly trimmed, and his suit cost more than some people’s cars. The clean, citrusy scent of his aftershave tickles my nose. 

“The color matches your eyes,” he says.  

My dress is deep blue with a corset top and multi-tiered skirt that hits me just below the knee. I feel sexy and glamorous in this dress, and I pull it out every time I want an extra boost of confidence.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. This isn’t Kyle’s usual place. It’s a whole-in-the-wall nightclub where local bands play, and they don’t stock Woodford Reserve. 

“You haven’t been answering my texts,” he says. 

“So, you’re stalking me on New Year’s Eve?”

A frown creases his brow. “I wouldn’t put it like that.” 

I tilt my head and look at him. I can’t believe I was ever attracted to him. Okay, so he’s classically handsome, with dark good looks and sophisticated style, but his eyes remind me of a shark. And his personality ruins everything good about the way he looks. 

“I’m meeting someone,” I say, resisting the urge to check the time again. 

Kyle glances around, his disdain clear. “He isn’t here yet?” 

“He will be,” I say. And I don’t really want Kyle around when Clark shows up. 

If he shows up. 

“Who is he?”

I straighten my shoulders. “None of your business.”

“You replaced me pretty easily,” he says, sounding bitter.

“Maybe you should have looked up from your phone a little earlier.”

“You’re still mad about that kiss?” he asks. “It wasn’t a big deal, Piper. You really overreacted.”

But I’m no longer listening, because the most handsome man I’ve ever seen has entered the club. Every one stares in his direction, but Clark doesn’t notice. A man who looks as good as like Clark is probably used to people staring.

He’s wearing fitted slacks that hug his muscular thighs, and a button-down shirt opened to expose the tan column of his throat. His thick, wavy hair is swept back from his face, and his chiseled jaw is cleanly shaved.

His gaze connects with mine, and his stride falters for a moment before a smile spreads across his face.

A magnetic pulse of energy draws us together from opposite sides of the room. The music fades and Kyle’s voice becomes a droning buzz. 

Heat spreads through me as Clark slowly makes his way through the crowd toward me. The quickest way to me is through the dance floor, and he takes it, weaving through throngs of people to get to me. 

A knot of excitement forms in my belly as I watch the fierce determination on his face. I’m not a hockey fan, but I’ve looked him up since I found out who he was, and the look he is giving me now is one often captured by sports photographers moments before he scored a goal. 

He is even sexier than I remember. There’s something about the way he moves that enchants me. My fingers itch to comb through his hair, and my lips tingle in anticipation of his kiss. 

Even though he is still yards away, I can swear I can smell the earthy spice of his scent. Before I realize it, I’m moving towards him.

“Excuse me,” I say, leaving Kyle to stare after me.

I hurry to meet Clark on the dance floor, and suddenly we are face to face surrounded by a mob of gyrating bodies. 

“Piper.” His voice is a low growl that sets every nerve in my body dancing.

“Clark.” I tilt my chin to meet the brilliant blue of his gaze. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“You’re beautiful.”

A blush rises on my cheeks, and the heat building inside me is suddenly unbearable. I take his hand, unable to resist touching him. Electricity zings between us as our fingers lace together. With his gaze on me, I’ve never felt more beautiful in my life.

“I brought something for you,” he has to shout over the music. From his back pocket, he pulls a green plant that I recognize immediately as mistletoe. His full lips curve in a grin. “I didn’t want to wait until midnight.”

“You don’t have to.”

He slides an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. I can feel every inch of his muscular torso pressed to my chest, and my body ignites with desire. I reach up on my toes to meet his lips as they descend to mine. 

His kiss is everything I remember and the promise of the future all rolled into one.

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