Page 31 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

“Shhh” I hush her, as Gabe and the boys approach.

“Here you go,” Gabe says. “The two miscreants are returned.”

“I’ll talk to you two later,” I say to the boys. “In the meantime, go see why Lina and Katie are trying to move those two huge rocks.”

“Thank you,” I say to Gabe. “That was good. Um. Yeah…a good thing…that you did. Very, um, helpful.”

I shove my hands into my pockets. Perhaps that’s where I might find my power of speech because I’ve certainly lost it somewhere.

And the fact that it might be in those green eyes, or the full lips smirking from within that beard, or the square shoulders, or the broad chest, or the biceps, or the thighs, or whatever else he keeps under his clothes, is too dangerous to even imagine.

“Yes, it was good,” Aunt Lou says to Gabe.

“Very good,” Mrs. B. adds. “I’m Mrs. B., by the way. That’s what my friends call me.” I swear she just fluttered her eyelashes.

“And I’m Natalie’s Aunt Lou.” She emits a giggle I’ve never heard before. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Of course, yes.” Gabe flashes them a smile so charming it makes a lie of everything I’ve said about him being cranky. “Nice to meet you, Aunt Lou and Mrs. B.”

“Darn!” Aunt Lou clicks her fingers. “I should have brought Nat’s pink skates with me so she could show you her twirling.”

Oh dear God.

Half my internal organs shrivel in onthemselves, the other half try to claw their way out of my body so they can disown me.

Gabe’s gaze slides slowly from Aunt Lou to me, his brows moving a tiny bit higher over eyes that have quite the amused sparkle in them. “Twirling?”

“No. I…” My armpits are sweaty, my fingers and toes freezing, and my mouth and brain are acting like they’ve never met.

“I’d love to see it.” A restrained snicker plays on his lips. “Maybe another time.”

“God, no. Aunt Lou’s kidding.” I give her my most pleading look.

She says nothing, but that’s probably preferable.

“Anyway,” Gabe says. “I have to get back to the house for a video PT session.”

“Thank God.” Shit. “Oh, I don’t mean thank God you’re going.” I do mean that, I absolutely mean that. “I mean, good that you’re able to get your physical therapy remotely.”

I glance at Aunt Lou and Mrs. B. who are watching us like we’re a piece of amusing performance art.

Suddenly my brain reactivates. Is he trying to get out of helping? Urgh, I knew he would. Well, he doesn’t get off that easily. A deal is a deal.

“We’re going to need to make some new scenery,” I say. “Some that can stand up on the ice. I’ll figure it out with the kids, then plan it all tonight. But I’ll need some help making it tomorrow. Can you meet me at the theater in the afternoon?”

“Two-ish work?” he asks without missing a beat.

I was expecting a lot more reluctance than that. “Sure. Yes. That’s actually perfect.”

“See you then.” And with a nod at Mrs. B. and AuntLou, he strides off, hands in pockets, boots crunching on the snow, thighs looking as awesome from behind as they do from the front.

If only my best chance of pulling this shit show together wasn’t a grumpy sports dude who hates Christmas and people and makes me feel all twirly inside.

“See?” Mrs. B. says.

“See what?” I ask.

“That smile. You’re doing it again.”

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