Free Mistletoe Mischief by Stacey Joy Netzel

traveled.
    Marissa shook her head. “Nothing, forget it.”
    “Not so fast,” Eric protested when she hobbled toward the workshop door.
    She paused near the opening, but didn’t face him. “Listen, I know we only just met, so assuming we’d have any type of relationship—especially now—well, that’s just a little crazy and...” Her hands flailed in the silence, as if their movement would locate the words she sought. “I’m sorry—for everything. And I should’ve just apologized and then shut up. I will shut up right now. In fact, it’s probably time to go—”
    Eric grasped her shoulders from behind, stalling her departure. She jumped about an inch. He hunched his own shoulders and pressed his cheek next to her ear. “You’re doing it again.”
    “What?”
    “Assuming the wrong things when we’re actually on the same page.”
    Her breath caught. “We are?”
    “I’ve been planning to ask you to dinner ever since I noticed you weren’t wearing a ring.” He turned her around and locked his gaze with her beautiful blue eyes. With one hand, he trailed his knuckles softly along her cheek before tucking her long hair back over her shoulder. “Not to mention, imagining our second kiss without an audience has been driving me crazy.”

 
    Chapter 7
     
     
    Marissa wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his low-voiced statement made her pulse race even faster. He was going to kiss her again. She wanted his mouth on hers more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time.
    A sudden attack of nervousness made her glance out the window in the gathering darkness toward the back of the yard where the girls still played. Beams of light filtered through the thick foliage concealing the tree house windows.
    “They’re fine,” Eric assured her, mistakenly guessing the reason for her hesitation. She didn’t correct him. He threaded his calloused fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck. Tingles radiated down her spine from his warm touch.
    Marissa cleared her throat and met his eyes once more. “Um, as a general rule, I don’t kiss on the first date.”
    A smile appeared, slow and sexy. “Then we’re in luck, because this sure as heck isn’t a first date. It’s more like an extended, recovering disaster of a first meeting.”
    Instead of the prolonged anticipation of his kiss increasing her anxiety, her tension eased with his teasing observation. She pretended to think about his description while his fingers gently massaged her neck. After a few seconds, she shook her head with a soft smile of false regret. “Unfortunately, I don’t kiss on those, either.”
    His eyes narrowed. His smile remained, but he dropped his hand and pulled something from his pocket. “Good thing I’ve got a trump card.”
    She frowned at his handful of mangled, dark leaves until a holly berry identified the foliage as the mistletoe from the zoo. Laughter bubbled up inside her. “Oh my God, you stole Butch’s mistletoe!”
    “I didn’t steal anything,” Eric denied. “Santa gave me an early Christmas gift.”
    “Yeah, sure,” she teased.
    “First I’m a jerk, now I’m a thief and a liar?” he challenged.
    “I didn’t say that!”
    “Butch gave me the mistletoe right after he suggested I drive you home.”
    Marissa glanced up at the mistletoe in his hand. The wonderful little leaves conjured the vivid memory of Eric’s warm mouth on hers and erased her smiling doubt. She reached up to take the mistletoe from his grasp and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. Resting her forearm on his shoulder while his hands settled on her hips, she stepped close and flattened her other hand against his chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath her fingers. She slid them up over his T-shirt to link with her other arm around his neck.
    Their bodies made full contact; thighs, hips, chests. His eyes darkened to slate gray, and heat jolted straight to her core.
    “Soo…what is it that you said in the golf