The First Love Cookie Club by Lori Wilde

white chocolate liqueur; it tastes like white chocolate-covered cranberries. Help yourself.”
    Sarah wasn’t a big drinker, but in party situations alcohol helped take the edge off her social anxiety. She tried one of the Cranberry Snowdrifts and found it surprisingly tasty. She nursed the drink and tried to look inconspicuous, but Dotty Mae and her crew were having none of it. They told her how great it was to have her back. They talked about her grandmother. They told stories of when she was little. Terrified that someone was going to mention her extreme faux pas at the Presbyterian church, Sarah forced a smile. “I think I should mingle.”
    “By all means, dear, we didn’t mean to hog you,” Dotty Mae said.
    But once she was freed from the group, she realized she didn’t recognize anyone else in the room. She promised herself that she would finish her drink, make one lap around the room, and then she was out of there. She’d done enough socializing for one evening.
    If you’d just give social events a chance, youmight just discover you enjoy them,
Benny’s voice chided.
    Her agent was forever telling her that she should open herself up to life and have a bit of fun. But fun came easily to him. To Sarah, small talk with strangers was right up there with root canals on her list of least favorite things.
    Okay, small talk isn’t your strong suit but surely there’s something here that you’d enjoy if you gave it half a chance,
imaginary Benny whispered.
    She thought of a certain sexy Santa with his lively gray eyes and engaging grin, and her heart did an odd little skip-hop. Who wouldn’t enjoy him?
    It was a stupid thought, so she shook her head to get rid of it quickly before it had time to root and grow. She was supposed to be avoiding Travis, not hanging out with him. Besides—she scanned the bar—he wasn’t even here. He’d probably taken his daughter home and put her to bed.
    Face it. The last thing you need is to get involved with Travis Walker.
    After half an hour of kids pulling on his beard and babies bawling their heads off because they were scared of him, Travis was eager to get out of the Santa suit and take Jazzy over to the library for story hour. He vacated his seat at the Father Christmas pavilion set up on the courthouse lawn, bid the photographer good night, and rounded up Jazzy from the North Pole bounce house. Normally, he would never have let her go into a bounce house—too many germs lurking, too much jumping for a kid with severe asthma—but ever sinceshe’d been getting the new medication, she’d been doing so well he hadn’t been able to deny her. Poor kid deserved to finally have some fun.
    He checked to make sure she was still doing well—no wheezing, no blue-tinged lips, no fever— and exhaled heavily. It was only then he realized he’d been holding his breath while he waited for her to crawl from the bounce house, cheeks pink with excitement, eyes sparkling.
    Once he’d assured himself that she was doing well and he had her safely ensconced at the library, he headed on down to the Horny Toad for the party. Travis liked parties, even though over the course of the last four years he’d pretty well given up all that to take care of Jazzy. It was nice, knowing she was doing well and it was okay for him to kick up his heels just a little.
    Feeling younger than he’d felt in a long time, Travis climbed into his pickup truck and drove toward Highway 377 to where the Horny Toad hunkered on the outskirts of town. He wondered if Sarah was still at the party, and then wondered why he wondered. She was only in town for a week. There was no point in wishing for something he didn’t even know for sure he really wanted.
    Of course, there was the strange coincidence that Jazzy’s favorite author had turned out to be Mia Martin’s granddaughter. Travis had a sneaking suspicion his Aunt Raylene and her cohorts were playing matchmaker. He found it amusing and wondered if Sarah had