Page 21 of Kiss Me

The way she glowers makes me smirk. I lean in to her. “Do you need another ice pack?”

“You’re going to need an ice pack for your face very soon.”

I mock shiver. “That sounded like a threat.”

She starts to say something but the matriarch of the family, Deborah Townsend, stands at the head of the room with a microphone.

“Okay, okay, this is the first of our Annual Townsend Family Christmas events. Let us all remember this isjustfor fun.” Her gaze, none too discreetly, crosses the room to glare at her husband and then at her youngest son, Tyler Townsend.

“There will be no fighting among anyone like last year’s gingerbread contest.”

A series of groans sound around the room.

“For the record, it was Father who started it,” Tyler yells out.

“I second that, little brother,” Carter Townsend, the oldest brother, replies.

“I was there, and it was totally Uncle Tyler who started it,” Kennedy supplies.

“That’s not fair! My daddy is innocent,” Chloe Townsend yells out.

Naturally, a series of back and forths start over who caused last year’s blow up.

“Anyway,” Deborah Townsend says, “the same thing won’t happen this year.” Her voice, though stern, holds a hint of playfulness.

Tania turns to me. “What happened last year?” she whispers.

I shrug and shake my head. “This is my first time spending the holidays with my cousin’s new family.”

“Dae’s your cousin?” she questions, glancing between the two of us. “You two look like you could be brothers.”

“We practically are,” I tell her.

She gives me a questioning look.

“It’s a long story.”

I jut my head toward the resort staff who’ve begun handing out the candies and extra supplies to make our gingerbread houses.

“The teams have been chosen for the first competition. Kayla, Patience, and Sandra are tonight’s judges.”

“Eve and I are together,” Stasi calls out, making almost everyone laugh. Apparently the two are super close despite the nearly five year age difference.

“That means you’re on my team.”

I expect Tania to give me some saucy comeback about how she’s only on my team because I forced her to be here.

Yet, she replies with a finger in my direction as she says, “And you better not drop the ball.”

The seriousness in her voice surprises me.

“Someone’s taking gingerbread house building pretty seriously.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re not? This isn’t a game. This is competition. Hand me that box.”

She holds out her hand for the box that has the gingerbread house inside.

Wordlessly, we undo the box and sort out the supplies that are our materials to construct our first house together.

---