The Elf and the Ice Princess Read Free Page A

kid’s face with one hand gripping his arm and the other waving
in harsh accusation. A little
too
harsh.
    Discomfort
squeezed Carrie’s gut. There was nothing she could do. If yelling at your kid
in the mall was an offense, half the American population would be in prison,
and she couldn’t call 911 on a bad feeling. Maybe she was overreacting, but
reality showed time and again that people who didn’t want or didn’t deserve
kids had no trouble whatsoever popping them out.
    Unlike her.
Reality was violently unfair—sometimes in all-too-literal ways.
    The set of
Brett’s jaw said he was getting a similar vibe from the situation. That must be
awful to observe and be powerless. She wondered how often he had to see this
kind of thing. Her elf-man seemed to give a damn about the kid’s welfare, but
he was in the wrong line of work for someone with feelings.
    The mother
stood, and the child’s cries grew more frantic. Brett stepped into her path and
caught her gaze. She stopped, looking irritated. Then stilled. Brett’s
presence, the way he held himself upright and firm but still relaxed, radiated
strength. His eyes hardened and shined, and though the smile never lessened, there
was an authority to it that was less “slacker with a mall job” and
more…President of the United States. It was incongruous with the setting and
costume, almost Twilight Zone.
    Though Carrie
couldn’t hear what he was saying, she had a sense that she, like that mother,
might agree to whatever was being demanded. Apparently Brett was a Christmas
elf with chutzpah.
    Sure enough, the
woman kneeled down to eye level with her son and ran a shaking hand through his
hair, like she was apologizing. The kid immediately calmed down. Even cracked a
smile. When he pointed away from Santa, fear filling his eyes as he looked at
his own mother, the woman nodded her head, took his hand and they started away.
    Carrie gaped at
them, wondering. The change was superficial—it had to be; a guy at the mall
didn’t alter lives with a few words and a firm stare. But despite knowing that
logically, the way the woman’s fingers entwined with her son’s and her stride
slowed so his little legs could keep up felt like more.
    Admiration warmed
Carrie’s skin. Was she biting her lip? Embarrassed, she released her lower lip
from between her teeth and buried the unwanted interest. She was not attracted
to a friggin’ mall elf. Was she? Then why couldn’t she take her eyes off of
him?
    A blush still
rode high on her cheeks when he looked up. Their eye contact was brief before
Brett turned to watch the mother and son go, but the recognition was clear.
    Crap
. Carrie had
to get out of there. She was, indeed, attracted to a mall elf, and that was not
okay. Not because of his job, but because he was a man, and she was not doing
this again. She didn’t do Christmas or any other winter holiday, and she didn’t
do love or any other form of relationship. All of it was pointless hokum that
got people’s hopes up for nothing. Or at least they were for her. Other people
could do as they pleased.
    She began
gathering her packages. Despite the lack of a dress, Festivus shopping had been
plentiful. A bag tipped, spilling the package of Legos she’d picked up for her
nephew. She lunged forward to fix that, tripped on her shoe—which still wasn’t
on right—and stepped on her purse.
    Her phone!
    She jerked her
foot up to keep from breaking it and tumbled backward.
    Solid arms
caught her before she landed rump-first on the tile. “Huh,” Brett said. “I
think I like catching you even better than being caught.”

B rett’s voice was
bemused and friendly-like, all traces of his earlier alpha display gone. He
cradled her easily, as if she didn’t weigh a thing. Amusement fit naturally on
his face, as if joy was the default expression.
    Carrie tensed,
even as the kindness in his demeanor and confidence in his smile soothed her.
It was an awfully nice smile. He smelled of