Page 62 of The Mistletoe Makeover

Mia holds up her hand to clarify. “That’s not exactly what we agreed to. You said tochase the fun.It’s different.”

“Wouldn’t front-row tickets make you happy?” Brax asks, finally siding with me.

“They would,” Mia says. “But I’d like to pick the company.”

Vale laughs in disbelief. “Likeyou’dask someone out.”

“I might,” she says weakly.

Brax and Vale laugh more loudly this time.

Cora shoots her sons a look. “Jace is donating these tickets to the town as a fundraiser, and we desperately need the money. So unless Mia agrees, I’ll ask someone else.”

“I volunteer,” Brax says, raising his hand.

“Me too,” Vale says.

“You both can’t volunteer,” Mia says, looking between them. “The committee gets first dibs.”

I look at Mia. “But if you aren’t taking a ticket, why not give your brothers a chance? They want to have fun, even if you don’t.”

Mia glares at me. She’s just competitive enough that she doesn’t want her brothers to steal her ticket. But she also hates the idea of participating in a dating auction.

“I’ll think about it,” she grumbles. “But I’m not making any promises.”

* * *

“You want to join us on the rink?” Brax asks me after dinner. “We’ll take it easy on you. Promise.”

The twins slide on their jackets as Mia and Cora clean up dinner.

I shove my hands in my pockets. “Sounds fun, but I don’t own skates.”

Mia stops with a stack of plates in her hands. “Oh, we have skates.” Then she opens a closet door and shows me an enormous pile. “What size?”

“Um, ten,” I say, praying there are no tens in the pile.

She hands off the plates to Brax and pulls out a pair. “These should work.”

“See you out there,” Vale says as he heads outside.

“I should help your mom clean up,” I say. “Shouldn’t I?”

“No. You owe me this.”

“Owe you?”

She crosses her arms. “The fundraiser auction.”

“I didn’t make you agree. I suggested it, and your brothers were more than willing to participate. But I’m so proud of you for saying yes.”

“There’s still time to back out,” she grumbles.

“If you go through with it, I’ll make sure the concert is fun,” I promise.

“As fun as a root canal?” she says, still looking doubtful. “Or as fun as playing hockey against my brothers?”

I turn to Mia. “Tell me one thing... am I going to die?”

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