“Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas, little darlin’.”
Winnie frowned, as a tear ran down her cheek.
“Why all the tears?” Trace asked. “A pretty little thing like you should be inside at the party, kicking up some dust and having herself a good time.”
“I…” She bit back a sob and shook her head. “You’ve got it wrong. I’m not pretty. It’s this.” She pulled her arms inside her sweater and shimmied and wiggled for several fast, furious heartbeats before her arms slid back out, a red lace bra clutched in one hand. “See?”
Trace saw, all right. Her breasts full and free beneath her sweater, her nipples pebbled from the cold. “Real pretty,” he said under his breath.
“Exactly. It’s pretty. I’m not.” She thrust the bra into his face. “A Miss Vixen Redlight Special. Guaranteed to make you fuller and perkier.”
He closed his eyes, desperately trying to keep his libido under control. “You look like you’re doing just fine on your own.”