Page 132 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

She nods.

“I am here to make up for being the ugliest, hairiest buttface anyone ever did see. And I have only thisonechance to win your heart, not the three that Sir Percival had because, frankly, if I blow this one, I’m toast.” More snickers as I look over the first couple of rows of the audience, most of whom are nodding.

Yup. There’s no coming back from failure under these dramatic circumstances.

“So, I’m pulling out all the stops. Bringing my A game right from the drop.” I unzip my jacket and she raises her eyebrows.

I wink at her instinctive flirtatiousresponse as I put my hand inside my jacket. “I come bearing a gift. A gift that I hope will win your heart. I know I’m not worthy of you. I truly do. But I made a mistake. A really foolish, thoughtless, selfish mistake. But I think your heart is so big that it could forgive someone who realizes they are a total buttface and promises to never partake of any buttfacery ever again.”

She’s trying so hard to keep a straight face, and I fucking love her for that.

“Please, take this, and tell me you’ll be mine.” And I pull out of my jacket the plush pink piglet she won at the Christmas festival and left at my place.

She immediately covers her face. And since her glove is about twice the size of her hand, all that’s left for me to see are her eyes peering over it.

They shimmer in the lights, bluer and richer than ever. And, I think, on the brink of tears.

My heart hangs in the silent air between us alongside the pig I’m holding out to her.

Come on, Nat. Come on. Take it. Please, take it. Take the fucking pig.

The crowd is quiet now, just the odd crunching of snow as people shuffle on the spot. It’s like the whole town is holding its breath.

Her eyes lock onto mine. And, as a full fat tear slowly creeps over the brim of one eye, she slowly reaches out and takes the piglet.

The roar that bursts around us would rival thousands of fans cheering an overtime goal.

Instinctively I spread my arms to scoop her up.

But she holds out her hand and takes a step back.

A shiver runs over me from the top of my head to my feet, dragging my stomach down with it.

Did she just take the pig to be polite? Does it not mean what I, and the rest of the town, think it means?

She removes her hand from her face and brushes away the tear in one swift motion to disguise what she’s doing.

Then she looks at the pig and smiles.

“Okay, Woods. Here’s the thing.” She sniffs, snapping herself back to reality. “Like you told me. I need to appreciate my worth. I need to stand up for myself. Fight my corner. Not worry about people liking me.”

Jesus, where is this going? “Yes, but not when I’m telling you I’m in love with you in front of the whole town.”

Her eyes snap up from the pig to me.

“You’re inlovewith me?” She says it in such a breathy whisper I doubt even the front row could hear her. In fact there’s a definite muttering of “What did she say?”

“Yes,” I whisper back. “I’m in love with you. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I wouldn’t have given you the pig if I wasn’t.”

“Okay, anyway,” she says louder. “If I need to put a higher value on myself, then I think I’m worth a whole lot more than you skipping town without talking to me and just leaving me a note.”

“It was a good note though, right?”

She’s trying to stop herself from smiling now, nodding as she sucks in her lips.

“The pig’s undeniably cute,” she says once she’s got a grip. “But what else have you got?”

I glance around the locals, and back to Aunt Lou and Mrs. B. Every one of them is nodding.

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