Page 24 of It's Mother-Pucking Christmas!

I paused a few houses down from Dakota’s parents’, checking and triple-checking the house numbers.

“Its fine,” I told myself. “Everything’s fine. We’re going to the house across the street from the green one with a For Sale sign. You looked this up with the guys on Google Earth before you left. Don’t be nervous. Be calm.”

But my heart was racing. What if this is it? My one chance at having a real family?

“Just be normal. Smile. Make small talk. Do not mention foster care. Compliment the hostess.”

I had my hostess gifts, right?

Courtesy of the Maplewood Falls Christmas market, I carried a fancy poinsettia, mulled wine, and a box of English toffee tied with a pretty bow. Nice, normal hostess gifts.

“Maybe I should have worn the khakis.” I worried over my outfit then stopped abruptly in front of the little stone path that led up to the porch, in shock. It was then that I realized that it, in fact, did not matter what I wore, or what the hostess gift was. Dakota’s family was going to hate me.

The Arctic Avengers team flag waved proudly from the porch. The rival team’s colors of gold and purple were everywhere—the Christmas lights on the house were purple, there were elves dressed in the team’s hockey jerseys strewn around the yard, and purple ribbons laced the wreath when I stepped up to the front door.

I rang the doorbell.

I was gripping the flowers too hard.

The door was flung open, and I almost dropped the bottle of wine.

A younger guy peered at me, then his lips peeled back. “Oh, hell no! Fuck this shit.” He turned to yell over his shoulder. “Which one of you girls brought this Icebreakers asswad here?”

11

DAKOTA

“You’ve never brought a man home before!”

“Shh! Keep your voice down.”

“You didn’t tell your parents?” Gracie asked as she added cheddar cheese to the mashed potatoes.

“No, I’m not going to tell the gossip mill. There are too many people here as it is. If my mom told everyone Dakota finally has a serious boyfriend, we’d see fourth cousins I haven’t seen since I was baptized showing up here asking when’s the wedding. Nope.”

“He does sound serious if you brought him to meet the family,” Gracie said.

“I just met him.” I scoffed. “This isn’t a meet-the-boyfriend situation. I felt sorry for him, is all. You should have heard the heart-wrenching foster care story. With the big blue eyes. I almost invited him home right then, but I knew he’d freak out.”

Gracie was teary-eyed. “I just feel so bad for Ryder.”

“See? That’s it exactly. I feel bad for him. I don’t, like,likehim. This is a friendly thing. Christmas charity. You know, trying not to turn into Ebenezer Scrooge.”

The doorbell rang.

“Sounds like he’s early,” Gracie said, since who else could it be but Ryder? No one in my family knew how to use a doorbell.

“If you’re on time, you’re late.” I wiped my hands and checked my reflection in the stainless steel fridge. “I don’t have potato peels in my hair, do I?”

“You sure you don’t like this guy?” Gracie teased.

There was yelling from the living room and the sound of stampeding footsteps as people streamed into the house. Then several uncles started singing the Arctic Avengers fight song.

Gracie’s eyes widened.

“Ah, shit.” I swore, opening up the utensil drawer and selecting a weapon. “I should have told him an hour later. Made sure everyone was too drunk to care about what team he plays for. Now they’re just belligerent drunk.”

When I pushed my way into the foyer, Ryder was huddled against the front door, the big, tall six-foot-five man surrounded by a sea of purple as my smaller Italian family hopped around, uncles and brothers and cousins mad as fuck that the star player of the Icebreakers was in their house.

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