A little extra holiday magic (and a ruined penguin sweater) from Snowball Falls.
An undercover Santa, a suspicious cocoa urn and one thoroughly ruined penguin sweater make for an unexpectedly cosy moment between Marley and Vin.
This bonus scene sits alongside Mistletoe and Mobsters.
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Marley Winters had been growing more and more suspicious of the cocoa urn for twenty minutes before it betrayed her.
It made the faintest clicking noise, gave a cough and then shot a brown spray of cocoa straight down the front of her sweater.
“Oh no,” she said, staring at the spreading stain. “Oh no no no.”
Across the table, Vin DeLuca stopped mid-reach.
He had been standing very still, in his Santa suit, hands folded the way they were when he was concentrating on not reacting. His beard smelled faintly of pine cleaner. His eyes dropped to the mess on her chest and snapped back up again.
“Are you burned,” he asked.
“No, but I am deeply offended.”
She dabbed at herself with a napkin. It did nothing. The cocoa had soaked in, dark and obvious, right over the penguin on her sweater.
“That penguin had dreams,” she said.
Vin stepped closer. She became very aware of the width of him, the way his boots planted on the packed snow, the quiet authority of his presence even here, surrounded by fairy lights and marshmallow debris.
“Here,” he said, tugging his red Santa coat open. “Take this.”
She blinked. “Your coat.”
“You’re cold.”
“I am not cold.”
“You’re standing in a wet sweater in December.”
She hesitated. People were everywhere. Evergreen Square buzzed with voices and music and the scrape of skates. Mayor Frost laughed somewhere near the tree. The Blodgett twins hovered at the edge of the rink with a camera and a grin.
Vin held the coat out patiently.
Marley sighed and slipped her arms into it.
It swallowed her. The hem hit her knees. The sleeves hid her hands completely. It smelled of soap, and him.
“There,” he said.
She looked up at him. “Now you look underdressed.”
“I’ll survive.”
She tugged the collar closer. “I look like I stole Santa.”
“You did,” he said.
She laughed before she could stop herself. The sound surprised her. It always did, how easy it was around him.
They moved to the side of the booth so Maddie could swoop in and rescue the urn. Marley perched on the edge of a hay bale, swinging her feet. Vin stood in front of her, blocking the wind without making a point of it.
“That thing has been eyeing me all night,” she said.
“The urn.”
“Yes. It knew I was vulnerable.”
His mouth twitched.
She leaned back, wrapped in red, feeling ridiculous and oddly safe. “You’re very calm about this.”
“I’ve dealt with worse spills.”
“Emotionally or professionally.”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “You’re very mysterious tonight, Mr. Claus.”
He glanced around. Lowered his voice. “You’re wearing my coat.”
“So.”
“It has pockets.”
Her eyes widened. She plunged her hands inside. Pulled out a handful of candy canes, a folded note, and something small and hard.
She froze.
“What’s this,” she asked carefully.
Vin looked. Winced. “That’s not supposed to be in there.”
She held it up. A tiny silver bell, worn smooth.
“It’s festive,” she said.
“It’s evidence.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
He exhaled. “From an old case. It’s fine.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s inert.”
“That’s worse.”
She studied the bell. Turned it over. It chimed softly.
“That’s actually kind of sad,” she said.
He looked at her. “Why?”
“Because someone dropped it. Or lost it. Or kept it for luck.” She handed it back. “And now it lives in Santa’s pocket.”
He closed his fingers around it. “I forgot it was there.”
They stood like that for a moment. The music swelled. Someone cheered on the rink. Snow drifted down in lazy flakes.
“You can keep the coat until your sweater dries,” he said.
“I might never give it back.”
“I’ll file a report.”
She grinned. “You would.”
A shout went up. The Blodgett twins had turned their camera on them.
“Twelve seconds,” Jess called. “Just stand there.”
“No,” Vin said.
Too late. The flash went off.
Marley laughed. “You’re going to be all over the town feed.”
He closed his eyes. Opened them again. “Fantastic.”
She slipped off the hay bale and stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You know what.”
“What.”
“This is the least suspicious thing you’ve done all night.”
He raised a brow.
“You gave me your coat. You worried about cocoa. You let yourself get photographed.” She smiled, soft this time. “You look normal.”
His throat moved. “I don’t do normal well.”
“You’re doing fine.”
The words hung between them.
He reached out, hesitated, then tugged the sleeve down so her hand emerged, pink from the cold.
“Your fingers,” he said. “They’re freezing.”
She flexed them. “See. Human.”
He held her hand between his palms. Just to warm it. Practical. Necessary.
She felt it anyway. The heat. The care. The way he focused.
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
He met her eyes. No beard in the way now. Just him.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
They stayed like that until the bell over the cocoa booth jingled again and Maddie called her name.
Marley let go first. Reluctantly.
“I’ll return your coat,” she said. “Eventually.”
“I’ll be here.”
She smiled, wrapped in red, and walked back into the lights, carrying something warmer than cocoa with her.
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Want more Marley and Vin?
Meet them properly in Mistletoe and Mobsters, a sweet, closed-door Snowball Falls romance.
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