The Mistletoe Kisser - Lucy Score Page 0,4

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 I do decide to do what they want, I can still do it on my terms, right?”

She stopped abruptly on the path. “Right,” she said, the truth of it hitting her like a bolt of lightning.

As he rambled on about not wanting to work five days a week and shopping allowances, Sammy’s brain turned the idea over.

There was nothing that said she had to go to Ohio State like her mother. Or that she had to use a veterinary career to build a legacy and a reputation. She could do it the way she wanted to. Heck, she didn’t even need to join her mother’s practice. She could practice veterinary medicine anywhere she wanted, and it wouldn’t be because her parents said so.

Maybe, just maybe, she could find a happy medium between rebelling and conforming.

“Oh. Hey. Look at that.”

Sammy followed the direction he pointed. Straight up.

“Mistletoe,” she said, her pulse fluttering. Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh boy. She forgot all about her potential future and focused on the present moment.

She’d caught the eye of the cute guy, saved a sheep, and potentially solved her own “rebel or conform” debate. And then accidentally wandered into Mistletoe Corner.

It was a secluded little section of the park where a tall spruce wore hundreds of colored Christmas lights. In front of the tree, the Decorating Committee always strung a canopy of lights interspersed with mistletoe plants.

Maybe the Solstice magic wasn’t over yet.

She wet her lips nervously, wondering if she should make the first move. Did she know what the first move was? Should she stand on