Page 83 of It's Mother-Pucking Christmas!

“You shouldn’t eat that with your tooth,” my sister warned.

“You should have stayed dating that dentist,” my aunt said to Marie. “Then he could have fixed Dakota’s tooth for free.”

“What about some crab dip, Dakota?” Gracie said.

“Nothing crunchy,” my sister warned. “Get her the Jolly Jell-O.”

“I don’t want Jell-O.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement.

“Crap!” I shrank down in my seat, wishing I’d worn a hat or, better yet, hadn’t come at all.

Ryder came out of one of the private dining areas and shook hands with three men in suits.

The scouts.

“Go talk to him,” Gracie whispered.

“I can’t,” I said, miserable. “He deserves someone better than me.”

“Damn right he does.” Cousin Violet pushed up her boobs and crawled over my cousin Bella.

“You seriously going to let Violet get him?” Gracie hissed. “Have some goddamn self-respect, Dakota.”

“I’m not wearing makeup. Or a bra.”

“You’re not wearing a bra, Dakota?” my mother said, way too loudly.

Ryder looked over. He gave me a hopeful smile then jumped when Violet materialized beside him and tried to kiss his cheek.

I raced over, pretty sure I reinjured my bruised leg I moved so fast.

I dragged my cousin away from him.

“Don’t. That is not who I meant,” I warned Ryder before Violet could open her big mouth, “when I said you needed to find someone nicer. Go away. Leave him alone, Violet.”

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and glared after my cousin.

Ryder reached out to cup my face tenderly. “Dakota, you’re hurt.” His face went dark. “I’m going to kill those guys.”

“Don’t bother. They were in the emergency room with me. They got off worse.” I laughed then trailed off when he just gave me a pained smile.

I looked down at my shoes. “I hope I didn’t ruin your chances at the NHL.” I wanted to run a hand through my tangled hair, but one of them was in a cast and the other in a brace, and I thought better of it.

“She didn’t.”

“Uncle Nate, what the hell?” I jumped, turning around to see him, my dad, and two of my dad’s ex-hockey player brothers-in-law all jammed in a booth.

“I just had to make sure everything went okay.” My dad shrugged.

“So you’re spying.”

“We’re not spying. We need to make sure Ryder gets called up. I used to play with those guys when I was on the Arctic Avengers,” Nate protested.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” my dad said to Ryder as they all stood up to inspect him, never mind their terribly injured daughter-slash-niece.

“No bruising?” Uncle Geoff asked, testing Ryder’s arms. “We gotta make sure you’re in fantastic shape.”

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