Page 44 of It's Mother-Pucking Christmas!

“Oh my god, you come here to show off, don’t you?” she joked. “This is your thing.”

“I’m not that self-absorbed. They don’t carry my size.” I asked Karl, the skating rink ticket guy, how his niece was doing as he ran my card.

“It says two hours,” he told me, “but you know I let you stay as long as you want.”

“So you’re like the Christmas market mascot,” Dakota said as she laced up her ice skates on the bench next to me.

I clocked the shape of the skates.

“You’re a figure skater.”

“Mildly. My sister played hockey growing up. I wanted to be a princess.” She stepped into a glide on the ice, skimming over it, motions fluid as she skated in circles around me.

Her arms drew close to her sides. Her balance shifted, then she did a perfect double loop.

“Still got it!” She whooped as she glided past me, arms outstretched.

I clenched my teeth together before I could gush about how it was going to be so much fun to take our children here skating with us.

Dakota skated backward in front of me. “Turns out being an ice princess does not pay the bills, and I had to go get a real job.”

“Do you like Manhattan?” I asked her as she dipped into a slow, elegant spin in front of me.

“For now. It’s not really the place you want to be if you want to have any sort of family life, I don’t think. Unless you have a shit ton of money.” Her body unfolded, and the spin slowed. “I’m not ready to move back to Maplewood Falls yet. Keep thinking I’ll meet the man of my dreams in Manhattan.”

“But they’re all nightmares?” I asked, not able to keep the edge of possessiveness out of my voice.

Dakota let her momentum carry her into my arms, and we spun around on the ice while I kissed her.

“Nightmares would at least be exciting and give you stories to tell at cocktail parties. These guys are all just blah,” she whispered when we came to a stop. “Unforgettable. Boring. Benignly crappy. Not like you. You’re…” Her brown eyes flickedup to mine. “You’re pretty awesome, actually.” She punched me. “Ow!” She shook her hand.

I kissed it.

“And that’s without you even fucking my brains out.”

I hissed as she slid her hands down my chest.

“Someone wants dessert before the meal.” I grabbed her wrists before she could get any lower. “This is a wholesome Christmas market experience.”

“And I want to unwrap my Christmas present early.”

I was about to lean in to kiss her again when yells of surprise sounded around us.

People slipped and fell on the ice, arms windmilling. Children cried, and Dakota cursed as something made its way through the crowds of people on the ice. Then a big, wet, furry, wiggling gray mass launched itself at me, sending me sliding back on my skates.

“Down. No, Dasher.” The huge husky puppy thrashed in my arms, tail wagging furiously as he greeted me with snow-wet kisses and tried to crawl on my shoulders.

“He wanted to say hi!” Dakota laughed breathlessly, a hand clasped to her chest.

“How did you escape?” I scolded the dog as I skated him over to the exit, his tail thumping against my leg.

Unlacing my skates, I kept one hand on Dasher as he rolled around, licked my face, barked happily at Dakota, chewed on my pants, and tried to steal food from a man watching his kids skate.

“Okay, buddy,” I said to the dog, hefting him in my arms again once I had my boots on. “We need to find your owners.”

As we headed up to the information desk so they could page Dasher’s new dog mom and dad on the sound system, Steph from the animal shelter saw me and jogged over.

“Dasher!” She scolded the dog.

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