A Romancing Wisconsin Holiday Story (#2)
Amazon, BN, Apple, ARe, Kobo, SW
Amazon, BN, Apple, ARe, Kobo, SW
Buy Mistletoe Magic in the month of December and 100% of my author royalties for the book will be donated to Happily Ever After, a no-kill animal shelter in Wisconsin.
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| www.HappilyEverAfter.org |
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| Christmas recipe for love—combine a matchmaking Santa, lots of mistletoe, one iron-clad rule, fated hearts; mix and stir. The Riley siblings don't stand a chance. |
Major Mark Riley plays Court Jester to Janelle Walsh's Snow Queen at the Christmas Parade and is instantly captivated by the cute redhead whose grandpa just happens to be Santa. When Mark learns she's the tenant he evicted from his newly purchased property, it's going to take a little bit of Santa's mistletoe magic to save their romance.
EXCERPT:
She
gave him a quick half-smile and sidestepped toward the wagon. “It was nice to
meet you, Major. Thanks for doing such a great job as the jester.”
“You’re
welcome, and you can call me Mark, you know.”
“Major’s
safer.”
The
briefest flash of consternation in her expression told him she hadn’t meant to
say that out loud. When her foot landed on the step so she could pull herself
up into the driver’s seat, Mark caught her arm and turned her around. She
grabbed hold of his shoulder to keep her balance on the narrow step.
“If
I don’t do this, it’s going to drive me crazy until I see you again,” he told
her in a low voice.
Her
throat muscles worked in a hard swallow. “Do what?” A downward flick of her
gaze said she knew the answer to her own question.
He
let his mouth relax in a slow, confidant smile. One step closer brought him
close enough to brace a hand against the wagon on either side of her. “I gotta
tell you, pretty as you were as the Snow Queen, elf suits you better—although I
do miss those cute, pointy little ears.”
She
rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”
He
took a moment to let his gaze roam over her face. Snow drifted down silently
and their breath mingled in the frigid air. Mark drew out the anticipation of
what was to come, enjoying the awareness that warmed the space between them.
“You
look like Christmas,” he murmured.
One
corner of her mouth twitched. “I’m guessing it’s the costume.”
He
shook his head and reached up to twirl a red curl around his finger, watching
the silky length wind against his skin before holding her gaze with his. “Red
and green, and all wrapped up like a delicious, cinnamon scented present.”
She
laughed softly.
Mark
closed the remaining few inches, pressing the length of his body to hers. “In
fact, I think I need to go find Santa and tell him I’ve been a real good boy
this year.”
He
spoke the last words a hairsbreadth away from her lips.
"You
ain’t been good enough for my granddaughter, sonny.”
Mark
froze. Amusement sparkled in Janelle’s eyes. With an inward groan, he took a
step back from Janelle and faced the owner of the stern voice. The Santa Claus
from the parade stood directly behind him, glaring daggers at Mark over his
wire-rimmed glasses, arms crossed over his bellyful of jelly under the jolly
red suit. Janelle’s blond-haired cousin, Derek, stood beside him with a similar
expression of hostility.
Mark
swiveled his head toward Janelle. “Santa’s your grandfather?”
“Pretty
cool, hey?”
“Oh,
yeah,” he agreed. “Awesome.”
Janelle’s
laughter didn’t soften Santa’s countenance. “If you know what’s good fer you,
young man, you’ll step aside.”
Mark
tensed. He sized up Santa and Derek in one swift glance. Derek stiffened, and
his eyes narrowed when they met Mark’s. Mark almost burst out laughing when he
realized his military instincts had kicked in out of habit. What the hell was
he thinking? Like he’d actually fight the old man or her cousin?
“Easy,
Grandpa,” Janelle intervened. “Much as I appreciate it, I can take care of
myself. Besides, the major here is perfectly harmless—nothing but a big flirt.”
Mark’s
ego took immediate offense. “Hey.”
“Don’t
try to deny it. Even Marissa said so.”
Gee, thanks, Marissa. Ah, but wait—they’d been talking about him.
Santa’s
bushy white eyebrows mashed together. “Hold on, are you Eric Riley’s brother?”
“Yeah…?”
The
man stepped forward with a sudden grin, his hand outstretched. “Why didntcha
say so? Butch Walsh, Major. And this here’s my grandson, Derek.”
“Nice
to meet you both, but please, the name’s Mark.” He shook hands with them, all
the while wondering how his younger brother had gotten in Santa’s good graces
and managed to smooth the way for him? That used to be Mark’s job for Eric.
Derek
put extra muscle into his handshake. When he let go, he still looked ready to
give Mark the third degree and didn’t disappoint. “So, how long are you home on
leave for, Major?”
Loose
translation: How long before you get the
hell out of town? Mark couldn’t help but square his shoulders to meet
Derek’s challenging glare. “As of Friday, I no longer report to the United
States Armed Forces. I’m returning to Pulaski permanently.”
“Early
retirement?” Derek sneered.
“Personal
choice.”
“Oh,
is that what they call it these days?”
Mark’s
anger exploded like a flash-bang. “Listen here you sonofabitch—I served my
time, including six months in Afghanistan and two tours in Iraq. Don’t you dare
suggest I haven’t done enough for my country.”
“Easy
boys,” Santa warned.
Janelle
jumped down between them at the same time Derek took a step forward. “Derek,
knock it off. Both of you are going a little overboard.”
Mark
glanced from her to Derek, consciously relaxing his clenched fists. “You’re
right, I apologize.”
Derek’s
lips remained clamped in a tight line.
Janelle
shot him a dirty look before stepping forward to hug and kiss her grandpa on
the cheek. “I’m going to try to beat the worst of the snow. Tell Grandma I hope
she feels better soon.”
“I
will. Drive safe, sweetheart, and be sure to give us a quick ring when yer
home.”
She
nodded. Mark stood aside so she could climb into the wagon. Once she’d brushed
the snow from her seat and settled down, he moved closer and spoke in a low
voice. “I’d like to see you again.”
She
shifted her gaze over his shoulder before meeting his eyes with a soft smile.
“Okay.”
“Janelle,”
Derek protested from behind.
Mark
ignored him. “When?”
“Is
Tuesday too soon?”
“It’s
not soon enough.”
“Don’t
be a kiss-ass, Major.”
He
grinned, determined to have her using his name by the end of Tuesday evening.
“What time can I pick you up?”
“How
about we meet at Figaro’s Pizza to pick up some dinner about six.”
“Sounds
like a plan. I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Me,
too.” After one last smile for the men behind him, Janelle lightly snapped the
reins and sent the horses into motion with a jingle of their bells. Mark
watched her glide away through the falling snow before turning to face Santa
Butch and Derek.
“You’d
better not mess with her,” Derek warned. Without waiting for a reply, he spun
on his boot heel and stalked back inside.
“Don’t
mind him none,” Santa said, bushy brows drawn together in a frown. “He’s got
issues with anything military.”
Mark
still felt like a first-class jackass for flying off the handle so fast, but
the thing was, Derek’s comments had struck a sore spot he didn’t want to fully
acknowledge. As he and Santa Butch followed Derek more slowly, Mark ran a hand
through his outgrown crew-cut to disperse the melting snow.
“I
take it Janelle and him are close?”
“Them
two’ve been through a lot together,” the old man confirmed. “That’s why he’s so
protective of her.”
Mark
stepped ahead to open the gym door.
On
his way past, Santa clapped him on the shoulder with a grin, his eyes alight
with a twinkle. “Lucky fer you, though, I like yer brother.”
~*~
