Mistletoe Mischief

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  Maybe going off with him, without the girls, wasn’t such a good idea. They seemed to be the only thing keeping her inappropriate attraction in check.

  She reminded herself yet again, married men were always off-limits. Always.

  “How’re you doing?” Eric asked. “Is the pain still really bad?”

  “It’s okay,” she answered honestly.

  As Santa climbed into the driver’s seat, Reese stepped up to the cart with a wide grin and tapped on her father’s arm. At her insistence, Eric leaned down so she could whisper in his ear, but Marissa heard Reese’s statement so clearly the little imp could’ve shouted the words.

  “Daddy, you’re under the mistletoe.”

  Chapter Four

  Eric bit back a grin at his daughter’s keen observation. He glanced up at a sprig of leaves and holly berries attached to the roof of the cart, then dropped his gaze to Marissa’s. “So we are,” he murmured.

  Her face flushed, but he couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment, or anticipation of a kiss. He knew the reason his pulse raced like an out of control locomotive.

  “You have to kiss her,” Reese stated.

  God Bless you, Reese.

  Santa laid his arm across the back of the front passenger seat and craned his head around, his brown eyes twinkling. “’Tis tradition.”

  “It’s the rule,” Reese argued, frowning at Santa before turning back to Eric. “You say so every Christmas when we stand in the doorway at Grandma’s.”

  “I do, don’t I?”

  Reese nodded emphatically. “Every year.”

  Eric faced Marissa and sighed with exaggerated reluctance. “I might’ve been able to buck tradition, but a rule’s a rule.”

  He wondered what she’d do, especially considering the pressure of everyone watching. She cast a quick glance around at their audience, and then lowered that lovely blue gaze of hers to her lap. Despite the spitfire attitude he’d witnessed all morning, her hesitation hinted at a shy side, captivating him even more.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally said quietly. “But I can’t help wondering what your wife would think of this.”

  Her disapproving words took him by surprise. So much for shy.

  Then he considered her response. She thought he was still married? Talk about unexpected. Relief followed pretty fast when it dawned on him that maybe this was the reason she’d given his flirting the cold shoulder. He respected that she would honor the vows of marriage, even if it weren’t her own.

  Moving closer, he slid his ringless left hand across the back of the seat to rest just shy of her shoulder. He spoke as low as she had, for her ears only. “Seeing as how my ex-wife is now married to the man she cheated on me with, I don’t really give a damn what she thinks.”

  Her gaze rose, comprehension widening her expressive eyes. “Oh.”

  He leaned another few inches closer and whispered, “No girlfriend to worry about, either.” Might as well lay it all out. He didn’t worry about her being involved with someone, otherwise that would’ve been the first reason she gave to avoid the kiss.

  Santa tooted the cart horn, making them both jump. “Today, folks. I got reindeer to hitch up.”

  Eric lifted a brow in silent question. Marissa wet her lips and offered a slow smile that sent his pulse into overdrive again.

  “I’ve never been very good at breaking rules,” she admitted.

  Eric threaded his fingers through her soft hair at the back of her neck and urged her forward. Her walnut-colored lashes lowered, fanning against her cheeks. He waited a moment, his mouth hovering above hers while he took in her natural beauty. At last, he closed the remaining inch between them.

  Reese’s giggle and their audience’s applause kept Eric from slanting his mouth over Marissa’s to take advantage of her surrender. What he wouldn’t give to be completely alone with her for this first kiss.

  He softly brushed her lips with his once, twice. A frustrating brief second of increased pressure to let her know he definitely wanted more, and then he reluctantly lifted his head. Damn. If he had anything to say about it, the next one would be longer, deeper, ten times hotter—and minus about seven or eight pairs of prying eyes.

  “Mistletoe rules,” he stated softly. They shared a quick smile before he slid back to his side of the seat and turned to mock-scowl at his daughter. “Happy now?”

  Reese nodded with a wide grin that, thankfully, matched Heather’s. “And you won’t get bad luck now.”

  “Bad luck?” Santa asked.

  “It’s an old family rule—long story. But we’d better get going or none of us will make it back for the wagon rides.”

  “Good point.” Santa took his cue and stepped on the gas, steering them toward the main zoo buildings. The no-nonsense side of Eric’s consciousness went over the course of treatment for Marissa’s ankle if it was only sprained, while the turned-on side registered the silky smooth texture of her skin beneath his left hand and the delicate arch of her slim foot with her sexy hot-pink toenails.

  She hadn’t said a word since the kiss, and he wasn’t quite sure how to break the silence. For some irrational reason showing interest had been easier when he was under the impression she didn’t like him. Maybe because then he automatically expected a no with any teasing advance he made. Now, the risk of her rejection became so much more personal with the possibility—and eager anticipation of—a yes.

  Bold before, now he found himself sticking to a safe subject as they rolled past the African animal habitats and Christmas trees sparkling in the noon sunshine. “I really wouldn’t recommend waiting until tomorrow for an X-ray.”

  She adjusted a fold in her tan cotton skirt. “Well, I’m not taking Heather with me, so if I can’t get a hold of her father, I won’t have a choice.”

  Eric frowned. “You don’t have anyone else you can call?”

  “Normally, my sister helps out, but she’s gone on vacation this week.” She gave a soft snort. “That’s why I was late this morning. Nikki usually comes over to walk Heather to the bus stop while I’m getting ready for work.”

  That only served to remind him that her injury indirectly resulted from his late arrival. His jaw tightened with the reappearance of the guilt she’d sparked with her explanation about why she’d worn high heels to the zoo. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the only parent to no-show, and, even if he could redo this morning, he wouldn’t change his actions to avoid being late. His commanders in the Army often told him not to feel responsible for matters over which he had no control, but he’d never figured out how to shut the culpability off.

  His hand flexed involuntarily on her leg. The skin beneath his fingers reminded him of the maple wood he used for his rocking chairs. Silky smooth, firm and strong, yet supple enough for him to create something special. But, like the wood, beautiful did not adequately describe the woman at his side.

  There had to be some way to make up for his tardiness this morning. “My brother’s home on leave this week. I can ask him or my parents to watch the girls while I drive you to the ER.”

  “Um…it’s very kind of you to offer—”

  “Here we are,” Santa said, cutting off the ‘but’ that Eric heard in Marissa’s voice. She eased her foot from his lap when the golf cart rolled to a stop.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear,” the summer-clad Santa continued. “And if it would help, we got an X-ray machine here in the animal hospital you could use.”

  Eric paused in the process of getting out of the cart. “Seriously?”

  “Yep.”

  Eric hurried around to Marissa’s side to assist her down when her stubborn independence gave no indication of retreat. “That would be great,” he said to Santa. “But are you sure it’ll be okay?”

  Santa winked at the two of them. “I ain’t sleepin’ with the little lady who runs this here hospital for nothin’.”

  Eric shared an amused yet unsure glance with Marissa. This Santa was quite the character. A s
hort, white-haired lady bustled through the open doors of the building in front of them.

  “Quit teasing them, Butch, and get over to the reindeer pens. You two, come inside and we’ll have you fixed right up before he’s done with the first ride.”

  “Aw, Judy, you always ruin my fun.”

  Judy glowered at him with her hands on her hips. “The children are waiting.”

  Santa Butch did as ordered, whistling as he drove away after a jaunty wave. Eric took advantage of Marissa’s distraction and lifted her off her feet before she had a chance to protest. She clung tight to his neck in surprise while Judy gave him an approving look on the way inside.

  “You don’t have to carry me everywhere,” Marissa admonished.

  “I’m keeping your foot elevated,” Eric stated. In truth, he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms more than the brief period of elevation would help the swelling in her ankle.

  Judy chuckled on her way past; Marissa rolled her eyes with a sigh. Thankfully, the sigh was accompanied by an amused twitch of the lips he’d love to kiss again.

  Inside Judy’s workroom, she barked out orders like the chief of surgery. No wonder Santa had rolled along with nothing more than a token protest; Eric had had drill sergeants less demanding than the elderly woman. But he had to admit, after she’d taken the X-ray, reviewed the results with him, and helped wrap Marissa’s confirmed sprained ankle, Judy’s efficiency would impress even the strictest general.

  “Thank you,” Marissa said from her perch on the table. “You have no idea how much this helped me out.”

  Judy patted her arm. “No problem at all, dear. Now, I’ll just call one of the merry little elves and you two will be back in the fun before you know it.” She gave them a wink that mirrored Butch’s from earlier. “Being married to Santa has its advantages.”

  Eric grinned at the couple’s opposite ways of stating their relationship. His mother would’ve said, “Typical.” Marissa’s quick laugh told him she’d noted the difference, too. Then she practically hopped from the table, demonstrating the painkillers had done their job. So well in fact, she insisted on limping out to the golf cart and actually managed the journey without his help this time.

  Judy hadn’t been joking about the elf. Dressed in a modified summer costume not nearly as crazy as Santa’s, a cute redhead a few years younger than he and Marissa sat in a cart painted with holly leaves and real candy canes strung around the top. Marissa gave the elf a smile, then paused before stepping into the vehicle. Eric followed the direction of her sweeping gaze to the bare inside rooftop.

  He leaned close, his chest brushing against her back. “Disappointed?” He was—especially since he’d just caught another enticing whiff of her vanilla scent.

  She cast him a glance, clearly surprised to have been caught looking for the mistletoe. Her cheeks flushed, but she gave him a good-natured chuckle and accepted the hand he offered to assist her onto the bench seat. Pleased she didn’t deny it, he settled next to her with a smile and lifted her wrapped ankle to rest on his knee again. Hope glowed like a hot coal under one’s breath.

  Judy introduced the red headed elf as her granddaughter, Janelle, and asked her to drive them over to their group at the South Shelter. They arrived by the picnic tables at the same time Santa Butch pulled the reindeer wagon to a stop nearby. The bells draped around the reindeer’s necks jingled merrily every time they shifted in their harnesses.

  “How’s the ankle?” Butch called.

  Marissa gave him a smile and a thumbs-up. Eric was impressed at how she handled everything in stride, figuratively speaking. And through it all, her concern for her daughter eclipsed her own comfort. Even now, she showed off her Ace bandage to Heather and Reese while assuring them she’d be fine.

  Patti brought them each a plate of food and they settled down at the table, only to have Santa announce the rides were beginning. Everyone else had eaten while they were at the animal hospital. Eric thought he heard a sigh from Marissa as she turned toward the wagon. She hadn’t even had a chance to touch her food, and now the girls stood by her side, raring to go.

  He grabbed his burger in one hand, a soda in the other, and rose to his feet before Marissa could move. “How about I ride with the girls while you put your foot up and eat your lunch?”

  She hesitated, glancing from the reindeer to Heather. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “I can go with Mr. Riley,” Heather said.

  Marissa smiled at her daughter before looking up at Eric. “You’re sure?”

  “No problem. You just stay off your feet.”

  “You should listen to Mr. Riley, Mom. First Ponderers know all the rules.”

  Eric choked back a laugh at the little blond girl’s stern advice.

  Marissa lifted a brow at her daughter. “Oh, yeah? Says who?”

  “Reese said so.”

  Marissa shifted her attention to Reese, whose expression reflected equal seriousness. When his daughter nodded to Marissa, Eric waited for her inevitable gem of wisdom.

  “That’s what Daddy says.”

  Good one, Reese, blame it on me. Now it was Eric’s turn to receive Marissa’s skeptical gaze. Somehow he kept a straight face and nodded sagely, just like his daughter. “It’s true. Us Pear Medics and First Ponderers are smarter than the average Joe.”

  The corners of Marissa’s mouth tugged upward. His gaze lingered on her shiny lips and he thought about kissing her again. Where the heck was the mistletoe when he needed it? “We do a lot of thinking,” he added softly.

  Her lips curved into a full smile. “Thinking is great, but how about some action?”

  Eric jerked his focus back up. Laughter sparkled in the blue depths of her eyes. She lifted her chin toward the wagon behind him. “Your ride is going to leave without you.”

  The girls squealed and Reese grabbed his arm. “Daddy, come on!”

  Eric looked over his shoulder. Indeed, Santa had climbed into the driver’s seat in his red shorts and flip-flops. “All right, let’s get going.”

  “Oh, hey, wait.” Marissa dug into her bag and pulled out her camera. “Take some pictures for me.”

  Before he could do anything with the burger in one hand and soda in the other, she grabbed hold of his pants pocket and tugged him forward a step to slip the slim digital camera into his pocket. Reese latched onto the back waistline of his camo-pants and pulled him in the opposite direction with all her weight, making him stumble back when Marissa released her hold.

  “Eric?”

  While Reese continued to drag him further away, he half-turned to see Marissa smiling again.

  “I like your thinking.”

  His heart slammed into his ribs. Oh, hell yeah.

  “On Prancer, on Comet—”

  Damn. Eric spun around at the sound of the jolly, booming voice. “Hold up there, Bu—Santa! We’ve got a couple more misfit toys here.”

  “Daddy,” Reese admonished with a giggle.

  Once the girls clambered aboard, Reese held his food, and Eric vaulted up beside them. The older man restarted his call to the reindeer after Eric sat on the row of hay bales behind Butch’s seat.

  Eric caught Marissa’s gaze across the lawn. God, she was so beautiful with her blond hair framing her face. She gave a little wave when the wagon lurched forward with a merry jingling of bells, then she turned back to her food as they rode out of sight.

  The girls kept him distracted, which was probably best, otherwise he’d have sat there thinking about Marissa’s flirty invitation the entire time. They pointed out all the animals they’d already seen, and to his surprise, they even got most of the exotic ones right. Heather remembered the camera half way through and Eric took lots of pictures when they stopped to let each one of the kids sit on Santa’s knee at “The North Pole” near the penguin exhibit.

  On their way back to the South Shelter, Patti commented how impressed she’d been with Marissa’s teaching patience earlier. Eric had to agree she’d done
a great job.

  “I can’t help but feel bad she hurt her ankle when she wasn’t even supposed to be here today,” the teacher said.

  “You?” Eric cast her a sidelong glance. “How do you think I feel?”

  Patti grimaced. “I ‘spose. But at least you followed through.”

  “I was already on my way, I just got delayed.”

  “Did you get stuck behind that accident this morning? I heard about it on the bus radio. They had the highway shut down in both directions.”

  Eric considered the dangerous, hectic scene from that morning. ’Stuck’ was not the first word that came to his mind, but he didn’t correct her. “Yeah, I was there.”

  “Well, see, it’s not like you could’ve helped that,” Patti rationalized.

  He lifted a shoulder with a wry smile. “No more than you could’ve.”

  Heather bounded up from her hay bale perch when the wagon rolled around the corner and the shelter came back into view. She became a little too enthusiastic waving to get her mother’s attention, and Eric caught her right before she tumbled off the edge. Thank goodness Marissa hadn’t yet looked up from her spot against a tree.

  Heather gave Eric a sheepish grin, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re bound and determined to keep us on our toes today, aren’t you?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Just slow down and be more careful,” he gently admonished, lowering her from the wagon when it came to a stop. Reese followed the other kids and parents getting down, and Eric jumped to the ground after them. Butch stood off to the side, saying goodbye to the kids.

  Eric braced a hand on each girl’s shoulder, waiting until the crowd thinned. “Thank Santa for the ride.”

  Reese and Heather sounded a chorus of thanks before taking off across the asphalt path toward Marissa. Eric made sure they reached the tree before turning around to face the older man.

  “This was great. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Butch shifted his gaze toward Marissa and the girls. “So, I expect you’ll be taking the lady and her daughter home?”