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Stacey Joy Netzel
Mistletoe Mischief (Romancing Wisconsin Series #1)
Mistletoe Mischief (Romancing Wisconsin Series #1)
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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.
MISTLETOE MISCHIEF
Christmas in July at the zoo is the last place single parents Eric Riley and Marissa Wilder expect to find love. Thanks to some mistletoe mischief in the form of their two young daughters and Santa, they discover mistletoe rules were not made to be broken.
(Previously published 2009 in Mistletoe Rules anthology, a 2010 Write Touch Readers' Award Winner)
~~~
“Daddy, you’re under the mistletoe.”
Eric glanced up at a sprig of leaves and holly berries attached to the roof of the cart, then dropped his gaze to Marissa’s. “So we are,” he murmured.
Her face flushed, but he couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment, or anticipation of a kiss. He knew the reason his pulse raced like an out of control locomotive.
“You have to kiss her,” Reese stated.
God Bless you, Reese.
Santa laid his arm across the back of the front passenger seat and craned his head around, his brown eyes twinkling. “‘Tis tradition.”
“It’s the rule,” Reese argued, frowning at Santa before turning back to Eric. “You say so every Christmas when we stand in the doorway at Grandma’s.”
“I do, don’t I?”
Reese nodded emphatically. “Every year.”
Eric faced Marissa and sighed with exaggerated reluctance. “I might’ve been able to buck tradition, but a rule’s a rule.”
MISTLETOE MISCHIEF
Christmas in July at the zoo is the last place single parents Eric Riley and Marissa Wilder expect to find love. Thanks to some mistletoe mischief in the form of their two young daughters and Santa, they discover mistletoe rules were not made to be broken.
(Previously published 2009 in Mistletoe Rules anthology, a 2010 Write Touch Readers' Award Winner)
~~~
“Daddy, you’re under the mistletoe.”
Eric glanced up at a sprig of leaves and holly berries attached to the roof of the cart, then dropped his gaze to Marissa’s. “So we are,” he murmured.
Her face flushed, but he couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment, or anticipation of a kiss. He knew the reason his pulse raced like an out of control locomotive.
“You have to kiss her,” Reese stated.
God Bless you, Reese.
Santa laid his arm across the back of the front passenger seat and craned his head around, his brown eyes twinkling. “‘Tis tradition.”
“It’s the rule,” Reese argued, frowning at Santa before turning back to Eric. “You say so every Christmas when we stand in the doorway at Grandma’s.”
“I do, don’t I?”
Reese nodded emphatically. “Every year.”
Eric faced Marissa and sighed with exaggerated reluctance. “I might’ve been able to buck tradition, but a rule’s a rule.”
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