Page 46 of Santa's Mistletoe Playbook

At the right time, my sister made an appearance beyond the clusterfuck developing in front of me, saving my mind from dredging up a name that might or might not be correct.

The distraction worked for more than me.

“Mommy!” Bessie shot forward out of arm's reach, slipping and sliding on the icy slush, her pink star arms waving straight out, purple sprinkles scattering in her wake.

“I’m gonna beat you!” Brandon took off after her.

“Oh, hell.” I glanced at the pretty girl offering me a tray of plastic cups topped with cream and noted her fixed smile when I didn't respond enthusiastically, or with her name.Okay, maybe not so pretty. “I’ll, uh, be back.”

I didn’t bother with my best Arnie rendidtion, figuring she’d already checked out for the day, and lumbered after my niece and nephew, trying not to kill myself–or anyone else–on my headlong dash the thin layer of ice and slush underfoot.

Bessie skidded around a couple making out on family Christmas market day in a questionable PDA choice.

“Dylan!” My sister lunged forward just as I caught up with her kids.

I grabbed for Bessie, missed, and ran straight into a skein of brown and purple hair, and something that smelled sweetly of Christmas morning. The somebody hit the deck, and I landed on top of her with a groan.

“Shit.”

“You don’t say,” the somebody said in a soft voice from beneath me.

I detangled myself, taking note of the pale hand that fell from my sleeve, uncoiling the purple streaked hair that went on and on. “Sorry about that, Rapunzel,” I murmured, running my fingers through her locks until I came to a head and flipped the lilac curls back, falling back to rest onto my heels. “Wow.”

Matching brown-purple ringed eyes stared back at me, unaccusing, since I just put her on her behind. “Any chance of a hand up? Please.”

“Of course.” I recovered my manners, gripping the girl’s arm and tugged her up with me. My feet skated a bit as slush and snow melded beneath my boots, but I managed to keep my balance. “I’m so sorry. I was chasing…” I waved a hand in the kids’ direction, but they both disappeared, leaving me in the lurch.

“A winter wraith, huh?” The girl drew her hand out of mine, all fine bones and a light touch.

I missed the warmth I hadn’t noticed immediately.

“A what?” I rubbed the back of my neck, inhaling ginger and Christmas spice every time she moved. “You smell edible.”

She stopped moving. Her eyes drew up my body, resting on my face as she studied me. “I know you.” Her brow furrowed, and I waited.

“Rippton.”

“Yep.”

“Danny.”

“Dylan.”

“Right. The defender.” She waved a finger at me. “I’ve seen you play lacrosse. Goalie. You’re good. If you aren’t horsing around and playing cheerleader.”

“Glad my fame has spread wide.” I grinned and offered my hand back. “I don’t know your name.”

“Trinity.”

She eyed my hand, her lips pursed, though I wasn’t sure if it was from my earning her a cold ass, or to help herself from laughing. Finally she accepted the handshake, though my fingers came away slightly sticky. It took me a moment to place why, but when she shifted on her feet, gingerbread and spice notes lifted into the air around me.

I drew in a long breath.Not all of that goodness is from spilt milk.

“Well, Trinity. Since I deprived you of a warm beverage, may I please replace yours?”

“So you do have manners.” She finally grinned.

I assumed a pose of mock horror. “Why would you think otherwise? I’ve been perfectly gentlemanly.”

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