Among the elves and witches and faery princesses were snowcat racers (the easiest way to bundle up and dress in a sort-of costume without looking out of place), loggers (lots of flannel and thick, warm boots)—oh, those lumbersexuals—and one daring caveman who wore a fur Fred Flintstone number that strapped over one shoulder. Poor guy, he might develop frostbite in places he’d never imagined possible.
Chocolate and marshmallow oozed out between graham crackers as s’mores were handed around. A game of ice bowling was set up along the side of the patio. The balls and pins had been chipped out of ice harvested from the nearby Mississippi River. Laughter sprinkled the air as if it were crystal snowflakes. The evening could be magical—if a girl had a man on her arm with whom to share those sweetly tempting s’mores.
Yet Eryss was an introvert and didn’t feel at all guilty about leaving the party early. She’d come to make nice with the locals because area businesses and the city council always invited the brewery to Anoka events, and—okay, she’d had the gown. Why not use it?
Though she wouldn’t have minded dancing, if any man had asked. Of course, she might have had to hang out near the dance floor for that to happen, and well, introverts didn’t tend to do such things.
With a nagging hankering for gooey marshmallow and chocolate teasing her, Eryss turned and was roughly bumped into from the side. “Oof!”
Though a deflection spell teased the tip of her tongue, she wisely held off from speaking the words. She and her fellow witches did their best not to flaunt their craft at public events.
“I am so sorry.” The man’s cold hands gripped her forearms to steady her. “I wasn’t looking. That was entirely my fault. I slipped on the ice.”
There was no ice on the fire-warmed concrete steps, but Eryss wasn’t about to point that out once her gaze landed on the man’s face. Deep brown eyes were shadowed by thick black brows. She had never seen such a rich iris color and thought perhaps there were also glints of gold winking back at her. A five o’clock shadow brushing his jaw emphasized an exquisitely masculine bone structure. Thick coal hair, swept messily back from his face, screamed for her to touch the loose curls that tickled those red ears.
And suddenly, her heart performed a skip and every part of her being stood up in recognition. Was he...?
“I’ve been looking for you,” she murmured in awe.
“Uh...you have?”
Giddy warmth flooded her heart. Her veins. Her skin flushed and she—well, she felt it in her very soul. This was the man. The one.
He had to be.
“Oh, what?” Eryss shook her head out of the deliciously muddling awe and back to reality. “Sorry. Did I say I was looking for you? I mean, uh...” What to say? She couldn’t come right out with the revelation that she suspected he was her long-lost soul mate. Just because the man gave off smolder vibes did not make him receptive to her beliefs of reincarnation. “You need a hat,” she decided quickly. “Looks like your ears are burning.”
He gave a funny wince. Obviously, he’d picked up on her comment, but wasn’t going to press. “They are. The blood vessels in my ears have started to constrict and blood is being shunted away from my extremities—ah. Ha-ha!” His smile revealed bright white teeth and squinting eyes that captured Eryss as if a love spell had been cast. “Sorry about that. I have a tendency to expound on silly things. Suffice it to say, I’m from the West. Didn’t expect it to be quite so cold.” He touched an ear and winced again.
“We call it frostbite here in Minnesota.” She marveled over the lingering laughter in his smile. Wonderful. And he was hers. Maybe? Yes, he had to be. But how to know for sure? “We should step over by the fire.”
“Yes, but you seem to be on your way out?”
Her gaze wandered to his broad shoulders, down the white shirt, rolled to his elbows to reveal a manly dusting of dark hairs on his—oddly, tan—forearms, and to the thick veins that corded the back of his hands. Leave now when she’d just stumbled into the man she’d been waiting for?
“Leaving? Heck, no! Will you join me for a hot chocolate?”
“I should be honored to share libations with such a lovely queen,” he replied.
Libations? The man most definitely was not the standard bar slug or even a hipster (the brewery’s standard customer). And Eryss remembered that she had been feeling horny not too long ago. How lucky could a girl get to find her soul mate and have him be übersexy, as well?
When he offered it, she took his arm and allowed him to lure her over to the bonfire. They found a spot close enough to warm their hands but far enough away so as not to ignite Eryss’s sparkly skirt. The man with the sudden and seductive laughter got them hot chocolates from the bar posted outside the front of the mansion. It served eggnog, hot chocolate, hot brandy and some kind of drink called a Dirty Snowman. Despite her trade, Eryss didn’t like beer all that much, so she was thankful to sip something sweet with just a touch of alcohol.
“I’m Dane Winther, by the way.” He handed her a paper mug. “I was on my way inside to find my coat, but I suddenly find the need for warmth has dissipated. And I’ve yet to take a sip of this thick brew.” He winked at her. “Must be the company.”
A charmer? She could work with that. “Eryss Norling.” She offered her hand, which he shook. “Stand closer to the fire. You really need to warm those hands.”
He moved closer and wrapped both hands around the mug. After blowing over the hot chocolate, he took a sip. “Norling? I believe that means something like ‘they who come from the north’?”
“Got it in one guess. But I’ve always lived here in the north. I own The Decadent Dames brewery in town.”
“Ah, yes, I noticed that place. Across from the antiques store? I had wondered how decadent a beer could be, but you were closed when I passed by.”
“We had to finish kegging the Iced Kiss for tonight. We’ll be open tomorrow. And I promise a very decadent experience if you try the oatmeal cream stout.”
“I do like a nice dark beer. And chocolate.” He held up his mug, tapped it against hers in a paper-thud toast, then tilted back a swallow. “Mmm...you Minnesotans do know how to do hot chocolate. I think there’s booze in this.”
Eryss smirked. “It’s got crème de menthe in it. We call it a Chocolate Kiss.”
A bemused smile danced in his eyes, and once again captivated by his utter and easy merriment, Eryss swayed, but stopped herself as soon as she felt her body lean toward him, toward his interesting ocean-surf scent. It was a scent she’d recently smelled. But...where and when? Wow, she was really leaning close now. She did not want to scare the man away because he thought she was weird. Or excited over finding someone she had known for ages.
“Mmm, yes, it’s got a touch of mint in it. A kiss, indeed.” He grinned and took another sip.
His eyes actually smiled. And with all that thick, carelessly swept hair that virtually demanded a woman run her fingers through it, could the man be any cuter?
Eryss stepped closer until they stood shoulder to shoulder before the bonfire. The blaze toasted her cheeks. Or was that Dane? She loved the name. Very Nordic.
Did
