Page 92 of It's Mother-Pucking Christmas!

“Don’t propose to her now.” Violet scowled. “Dakota is not proposal ready.”

I kissed Dakota. “Don’t worry. I can’t propose to her yet. We still technically haven’t had our third date.”

When we came back downstairs, the cousins were trooping through, bringing over all the Christmas presents, which I now saw were housewarming presents.

“Where do you want your Christmas train set up?” Nico asked.

“I think you can just leave that. I mean, Christmas is almost over, so I don’t know if—oh.” Aunt Giana was already adding ornaments to the tree.

There was a sharp whistle, piercing the loud chatter of Dakota’s family. Dasher sat down, head cocked.

“Fuck decorating,” Hudson said from the doorway. “I thought we were playing hockey.”

“Hudson!”Gracie called from the bleachers. “Don’t overdo it.”

He skated by, sweat dripping down his face. “Ryder needs to be on a team by himself.”

“I’m onyourteam,” I reminded Hudson.

“I know,” he called back in disgust. “It’s exhausting trying to keep up with you.”

Gracie’s brother Logan tossed his hockey stick in the air in defeat as I swept by with the puck, scoring easily on Nate.

“Nah,” Dakota’s dad said, leaning on his stick. “He needs to play on both teams, like he just gets switched every five minutes or something.”

“And let’s start the switching now,” Uncle Bic said, handing me a Team Frosty jersey.

“Probably the hardestgame you ever played, right?” Dakota joked, greeting me with Christmas-flavored kisses after the game ended in a tie.

“I think everyone earned their Christmas dinner!” Aunt Janet called. “Bonfire at Dakota’s!”

34

DAKOTA

Isat at the upstairs window, hiding from my family slash watching Ryder run, Dasher loping beside him, down the sidewalk back home.

Home!

I was mentally blocking out the fact that my parents were across the street. Thankfully, the master bedroom overlooked the backyard, not the front, because I knew my mom would just use it as an excuse to spy with her sisters.

Ryder unlatched the gate, noticed me watching, and smiled up at me. I blew him a kiss.

He raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, rushed to me, and swept me into his strong arms. He nuzzled my neck and my jaw, kissing my nose, my forehead, my mouth.

“I love you, Dakota. I love you so much,” he whispered.

“Not as much as I love you. I hope this was an amazing Christmas.”

“The best ever.”

I drank in the sight of him. His blue eyes were dancing, and he had a big grin on his face.

I pulled off his hat and ruffled his hair.

“What?” he asked, rocking back on his heels.

“You look so happy.”

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