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Santa's Girl

Page 53

by Jax Hart

“What the—Jinx.”

“Don’t fight it,” Axel said, popping up out of nowhere like an overexcited stylist. “Let it happen.”

Next thing I knew, I was crammed in the back of Jinx’s truck with Pico at the wheel, Grease in shotgun, and Jinx blasting a ‘90s playlist like we were on a bachelorette party run.

Downtown Pigeon Forge never saw it coming.

They dragged me through two different outdoor gear shops, tossing clothes at me like they were dressing a damn mannequin.

“No camo,” Jinx said, thumbing through jackets. “Shit, we’re not sending you to war.”

“Try this,” Pico said, throwing me a soft charcoal North Face zip fleece. “It’s like flannel’s sexy cousin.”

“Iamsexy,” I growled.

“You’regrizzled,” Grease corrected. “There’s a difference.”

They made me try on jeans that actually fit — slim cut, dark wash. I felt like I was in aGap commercial for lumberjacks.The cashier looked at me like I might body-slam a mannequin at any moment.

And just when I thought we were done, Jinx clapped his hands like he was unveiling the finale.

“Salon.”

“No.”

“Beard trim. Oil. Warm towel. Relaxing music.”

“No.”

“It’s already booked. You’re welcome.”

Forty-five minutes later,I was in a reclining chair with a hot towel on my face, my jaw cracking every time I gritted my teeth, which was often.

“You’re fuming,” the stylist said with a smile.

“I’m fine,” I growled.

“You’re cracking your molars.”

I closed my eyes, sighed, and muttered, “This better work.”

She chuckled. “Oh, it’s working. You’re gonna look like the kind of man whowins the girlin the movie.”

Fuck me, I hoped so.

Because if Becca was the prize?

I’d let these idiots style me into adamn Christmas tree.

I was reclined in a chair I was pretty sure cost more than my first bike, a hot towel smothering my face while some kindof calming instrumental music played low in the background — which, if you ask me, just made the whole thing feelmorelike a trap.

“You ever moisturize?” a smooth voice asked near my right ear.

I peeled the towel back just enough to get a look at him.

Slim build, bleach-blond buzzcut, perfect eyebrows, glossy nails, and a smirk like he already knew how the rest of my day was gonna go.

The name tag saidZane.