Page 5 of The Mistletoe Kisser

Sammy blinked when the next piece of popcorn was gobbled up by a red hen that elbowed her way into the snack train.

“Is that a Pierce Acres chicken or someone else’s free-range fowl?” Layla wondered.

It took patience and every kernel of popcorn in the bag, but they made it back to the petting zoo with the sheep and the chicken. A grinning Beckett opened the gate, and Sammy dumped the remainder of the popcorn on the ground.

Once everyone was officially corralled, the usually stoic John gave Sammy a hard, one-armed hug. His wife, Phoebe, who had missed the action while sampling mulled wines with her friend Elvira Eustace, gave her a noisy kiss on the forehead.

“What would Blue Moon do without you, Sammy?” Phoebe asked.

Sammy felt her cheeks flush at the praise.

“Nice going, kiddo,” Carter said, ruffling her hair and making her feel even more breathless.

“It was a team effort,” she said modestly to her shoes. The chaos had been quelled, the animals corralled. And the pigtailed Becky Halgren was getting a second, free ride to make up for the first near disaster.

“Thank you, girls, for your heroics. Last time this sheep got out, he wandered halfway to Cleary. Who knew David Bowie was such a huge fan of popcorn?” Phoebe mused.

“Uh. He is?” Sammy asked.

“She named the sheep David Bowie,” John explained, giving the animal a slap on the rump. “You’ve got a hell of a way with animals, Sammy.”

The praise made her feel warm inside.

“You also seem to have a fan,” Phoebe observed, nodding across the park path. There stood cute Ryan still holding two cups of hot chocolate, his hair still in his eye.

“Kid needs a haircut,” John grumbled. Phoebe elbowed him in the gut.

Eden gave Sammy a push in Ryan’s direction. “Go make out with his face.”

Sammy gave the Pierces and her friends a parting glance before crossing to Ryan.

“I saved this for you,” he said, holding up her hot chocolate.

“Thanks,” she said, attempting to wipe the snow and mud off her mittens. She was making more of a mess, so she gave up and stuffed them into her pockets. She accepted the cup and, following Eden’s shooing motions, towed Ryan away from the crowd.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

She shook her head. The sheep chase had actually left her a little sweaty. “I’m fine,” she said.

“Here.” He unwound his scarf and looped it around her neck.

It was so soft and smelled like cologne. She didn’t know what kind of material it was, but it felt expensive. She hoped her sweat wouldn’t ruin it. “Uh. Thanks.”

“You were pretty cool handling those animals,” he told her as they strolled toward the end of the park, leaving the crowd, the smells of lasagna and patchouli incense behind them.

“Thanks. My mom’s a veterinarian,” she explained.

“Cool. My parents own a property management company. They want me to follow in their footsteps and join the family business. But I don’t know.”

Sammy felt a spark of commonality. “I know the feeling,” she said. “Are all parents like that? I mean, is there a rule that says if your kids go to the same college you did or into your profession that means you made the right choices?”

“Whoa, blue eyes. That’s deep,” he teased.

A trickle of sweat worked its way down the back of her neck, and she hoped it wasn’t burning a hole through the scarf. “Uh. So, do you want to go into property management?” she asked, steering the conversation away from any potentially off-putting philosophical questions.

Ryan seemed to be more comfortable when the conversation centered around him. And she felt more comfortable when other people were comfortable.

He shrugged. “It’s okay. But if Idodecide to do what they want, I can still do it on my terms, right?”