That shy spark flickers in her eyes. “It’s nothing crazy. It’s pretty small.”
Cal, predictably, goes for the obvious follow-up. “Whereis it?”
She hides her mouth behind her hand, eyes dancing. “That’s not part of the question. You only get one, per turn, remember?”
“Oh, come on. Cut us some slack,” I say, laughing. “You don’t really have a tattoo, do you.”
“Nope. Too bad,” she fires back, leaning forward and wrapping her hand around the neck of the bottle. “My turn. Let’s see…oh! Callum. Truth or dare?”
Cal doesn’t even blink. “Dare.”
Of course he’d say that. No hesitation, no second-guessing.
The man treats everything like it’s a challenge he’s already planning on winning.
He’s never had a competitive bone in his body, but he’s also never been one to not finish a game he’s started.
She tilts her head, pretending to think. “I dare you to…down the rest of your wine glass.”
I groan. “That’s it? Come on, Noelle. You’re going soft on him already.”
Her lips twitch. “Fine, fine. Then I dare him to sing a line from his least favorite Christmas song.”
Cal’s brow lifts. “Really…”
“Yup.” She smirks. “And you have tomeanit.”
With an eye roll, he lifts his wine glass to down the entire thing.
Two large gulps are all it takes to drain the glass.
He sets it down onto the coffee table close by, wiping a hand across his mouth.
Then, in the most deadpan, monotone voice imaginable, he starts singing “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”
By the second line, I’m done for.
The sight of Cal—our stoic and steel-eyed ex-combat veteran—singing a Christmas carol like he’s reciting a death report is too much for me to handle.
Especially with a few too many glasses of wine burning through my veins.
Grant mutters a soft, “Jesus Christ,”under his breath, but even he’s laughing too.
Noelle’s laughter rings through the room, unrestrained and bright, and I forget everything else.
All I remember is her body pressed against mine, that mouth moving and tilting to kiss me deeper.
My stomach clenches from the memory, my hand tightening around my wine glass while I pretend it’s her jaw instead.
When Cal finally finishes, he leans back against the side of the couch. “Satisfied?”
Noelle wipes at the corner of her eye, still smiling. “More than you know.”
Cal’s eyes crinkle faintly, his smirk barely there. “Your turn, Dean.”
I grab the bottle with a grin, spinning it between my palms before giving it a flick.
The glass spins fast, the reflection of firelight twisting across it.
