Good Elf Gone Wrong: A Holiday Romantic Comedy, page 12
I checked on the cheese-and-leek tater tots crisping in the oven, trying my best to ignore my sister and my fake boyfriend. I was scared of needles, and the thought of getting so much as a tiny heart tattoo made me feel faint.
“I can be with the right motivation,” Kelly purred.
Hudson snorted. “Did you just get that tattoo so guys would ask you how wet you are or how sweet you taste? The tattoo is a lure to get guys back to your bed.”
I bit back a scoff as I flipped the last of the waffles in the waffle maker.
I didn’t know why I ever though Hudson was attractive. He was disgusting.
“No,” I said, before I could stop myself, “that’s what the nipple piercings are for.”
“You have nipple piercings?” Hudson looked aggravatingly interested in that fact.
His eyes were glued to her tits.
“You gonna show me?”
“You don’t get to see the nipple piercings on the first date,” Kelly said, making a big show of covering her boobs with her hands.
“Not even,” Hudson said, dipping his head down to her, “if I ask nicely and say please?”
“I like to make men work for it. I’m not like Gracie, giving it away in a gas station bathroom.”
Hudson’s eyes slid over me.
I pretended to be very interested in the cheese grits in the big pot on the stove.
“It just goes to show you I can make a woman do anything I want,” he rumbled.
“Hardly difficult,” my sister scoffed. “All you have to do is give Gracie a compliment, and you’ll have a little friend for life. You won’t be able to get rid of her. I’m surprised she’s exciting enough to keep a man like you interested.”
“I could say the same about you,” Hudson said inclining his chin slightly at James, who had entered the kitchen.
“When I’m on a first date, I like to test and see if a guy is gonna be a man in bed by telling him I want him to let me ride him while he uses a chain latched to the nipple rings like reins.” She let out a musical laugh. “This Boy Scout got so freaked out he tipped over his water.”
“That must have been disappointing. Go to all that trouble to make your tits extra special and he doesn’t even appreciate them,” Hudson said in that rough, deep voice that any woman would want to have saying dirty things to her in bed.
“It’s not all a waste. One guy said he wanted to chain them up on his bedpost and ride me.”
“Oh yeah?”
God, they were flirting, like really flirting, not the polite professionalism Hudson had shown me.
There was more heat in that Oh yeah? than there was when Hudson had told me I was going to have to suck his cock in front of the Christmas tree. Last night, he’d sounded like he was asking me a question about how to fill out his taxes.
Now?
He and Kelly were so into each other—the way his eyes flicked to her nose, her mouth, down to her ample cleavage (talk about store-bought).
I would never be able to enthrall a man like Hudson the way my sister did. My stomach sank with the truth of it.
“You got any other tattoos?” Kelly asked, running her fingers around the waistband of his jeans.
“Just a few. Maybe one day you’ll see.”
“I’ll have to surprise you in the shower.”
I stuck the hot pan under the faucet. The grease burst up in a cloud of steam.
Coughing, I waved my hand in front of my face.
Like a demented genie, James appeared. He grabbed my wrist before I almost inadvertently hit him in the face.
“I’m trying to cook.”
James released me but still had me cornered by the sink.
“This is pathetic, Gracie. I can’t believe how desperate you are.”
I desperately wished Hudson would come rescue me even if it was just to pretend to be the possessive boyfriend, but he was too enamored with Kelly to see what was going on.
“You orchestrated all of this to get me back,” he continued.
“As if.” I sprinkled grated cheese on the pan of eggs.
“Of course you did. And it got out of hand because you don’t know what you’re doing. Now we all have to watch, embarrassed, as your ‘boyfriend’”—James used air quotes—“stands there and flirts with Kelly. He’s so out of your league. It’s obvious to everyone. Just admit it—you’re trying to use Hudson to make me jealous.”
“I am not. I don’t care about you at all.” I stirred the eggs in the hot pan.
“Liar. You’re still in love with me.”
I hated the look that slithered over James’s face, like he was looking at a turtle flipped on its back.
“You really would have taken me back, wouldn’t you, if I hadn’t proposed to Kelly?”
“No,” I said, lying.
The truth?
Yeah, I probably would have. James also wouldn’t have needed to grovel or buy me a nice present.
The timer went off.
“Breakfast is ready,” I said loudly, breaking up the flirt-fest that Hudson and Kelly were having. “Hudson, can you please put on a shirt?”
“Gracie is such a nag,” Kelly said, trailing her fingers down his washboard abs.
My sister helped carry out a platter of freshly made waffles to cheers and applause from my family while I struggled to carry the precariously balanced trays of food into the dining room.
“Did you make sausage?” one of my cousins asked.
“I don’t see any,” his brother said.
“Gracie,” my cousin complained, “you know I like sausage not bacon.”
“I know. Hold on. It’s in the kitchen,” I said, quickly setting out the food and hurrying back to get the rest. I almost collided with Hudson ,who was carrying out several more platters, all balanced on his arms like a fancy waiter.
“Sorry.” I sidestepped him.
Hudson efficiently slid the platters of food on the antique buffet.
“Thanks for your help,” I said as he fixed a plate then handed it to me. “Don’t you want more bacon?”
“That’s for you,” he stated, picking up another plate. “Sit down.”
A moment later, Hudson sat next to me at the table.
No one asked me to get them more bacon, extra orange juice, or to make them more eggs.
It sure is nice to eat hot food.
He wiped his mouth after wolfing down his breakfast.
“I have to run,” he said to me, reaching to tug one of the curls on my head, making me jump.
James looked smug.
My mom looked pleased.
“That’s why you can’t hang your hat on a man like that,” she told me after Hudson had slammed the front door behind him.
I watched him through the window as he sprang into the cab of the dark-green pickup truck. I wished he would have taken me with him.
Piper gave me a doe-eyed look.
“Kelly says you’re going to make some vegan eggnog, and we’re having a tasting tonight.”
“We are?”
“The wedding welcome party is tomorrow,” my mom reminded me.
I felt the panic well up. I had to decorate the venue, finish cooking, and now make vegan eggnog, which I’d never made before?
“When you go to the store, Gracie,” my mother said, “can you make sure you pick up some more flour?”
“Why do we keep going through flour?”
“Because your aunt keeps taking it to make playdough for your cousins.”
“That’s organic flour and very expensive,” I said, trying to stay calm.
“They’re family,” my dad said reproachfully.
“Fine. I need to go to the yarn store anyway.”
“You already have so much yarn,” my mother reminded me.
“They’re doing a drop for special-edition holiday yarn.”
“You making everyone scarves again for Christmas?” Logan asked me.
“I’m sick of getting scarves,” one of my cousins complained.
I shrank in my seat.
“No, I’m not,” I said quietly.
“All she does is make outfits for the dogs now.” Kelly rolled her eyes. “That’s why I told you to stop worrying about her and Hudson, Mom. A man like him is not going to put up with a girl who knits dog sweaters. He’s probably already tired of her.”
The food roiled in my stomach. My mom was talking about me with my sister? As if my sister was in any way qualified to give advice about my life.
“Maybe you could start selling the dog clothes and make a little extra money,” my dad said encouragingly.
Or maybe you could pay me what I’m worth.
Another entry in the Festivus journal.
James snorted. “That’s what Gracie was thinking she would do after we had children—be a stay-at-home mom and knit. In this economy! I told her she was delusional.”
Kelly let out peals of laughter.
“Kelly’s not going to work either when she has kids,” Dakota said, jumping to my defense.
“Yes, I am,” Kelly shot back.
“Kelly is an influencer. That’s different. She gets brand deals.”
“I’m going to be a momfluencer.” Kelly tossed her hair.
“An influencer?” Granny Murray scoffed. “So you’re just flashing your nipple rings on OnlyFans, then. Got it.”
“Mom, are you drinking?”
“Gracie made mimosas.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Fine.” Granny Murray shrugged. “I made my own mimosa.”
“We’re meeting at the venue this afternoon to decorate, so don’t be late. There’s a lot to do,” my mom reminded me as the rest of the family left the table.
“Is everyone going to be there or just me?” I asked as I stood up.
I was going to the yarn store before I went to decorate, St. Nick help me. So what if I was going to make another dog sweater? Dogs looked cute in sweaters.
“I’ll be there after we finish dress shopping,” my cousins swore up and down.
Translation: they were never going to show up to help.
“Mom, we’re going to miss the flower shop appointment,” my sister complained.
“I think the bacon was a little overdone,” James told me, handing me the plate.
“Dakota, put that down,” her mother scolded as my friend tried to pick up plates. “I told you I have a mother-daughter spa day booked, and so help me god, we will be spending quality time together.”
Alone, I slowly picked up all the empty plates.
“You can go get a coffee too,” I promised myself.
It took forever to do the washing up. I checked the time as I threw on my coat and wrestled Pugnog into his.
When I got outside, none of the cars were there.
“How am I supposed to buy gallons of nut milk, not to mention all this other stuff, and carry it home?”
I raced to grab the handcart and half jogged into town.
“Everything will be fine with yarn,” I told Pugnog, who was trotting along next to me.
The yarn shop was a cute pink-and-white store on Main Street that had been decorated for Christmas with garland wreaths and ornaments made entirely out of yarn.
The shop owner gave me a sympathetic look when I stumbled in, out of breath and sweating under my knitted cap.
“I hope you’re not here for the holiday drop,” she said. “We just sold out of the last ball.”
“You did?” I said, deflating.
“We’ll get another order in soon,” the shop owner promised. “And we’ll let everyone know on Instagram.”
“That’s okay. I have a lot of yarn anyways,” I said, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
The bell over the door tinkled as I went back outside.
I felt like crying.
It was stupid. I knew it was stupid, because the shop was getting more yarn. But I wanted that yarn.
“You have a lot of yarn,” I told myself. “Now you can go to the store. Just sit down and figure out what you need to make vegan eggnog.”
Tears prickled my eyes as I tried to read through the recipes online.
“Where am I supposed to get thirty pounds of macadamia nuts?” I gasped, skimming one recipe.
The panic welled up in me as all the to-do lists raced through my brain. I knew that everyone in my family was going to flake tonight and I was going to have to be up in the wee hours decorating for Kelly’s wedding welcome party. Not to mention Hudson was going to be there flirting with her because he liked my sister more than me, just like every other man in the world.
“It’s just not fair.”
Giving in, I buried my head in my hands and started sobbing right there on the bench.
Pugnog put his paws on my leg while I tried to calm down. I heard him whine, and then large hands cupped my face.
“Gracie, what happened? What’s wrong?”
17
HUDSON
“Gracie, tell me what happened,” I demanded, cupping her tear-stained face in my hands.
“Nothing. I—” she stammered.
“Did someone hurt you? Was it James?”
Maybe it was me.
It wasn’t lost on me how hurt Gracie had seemed when her sister had her hands all over me.
She needs to just get over it. This was what she hired me to do.
Yet here she was crying on a bench.
I should have just ignored her, gone back to the field office to strategize after my meeting with one of my property managers, like I’d intended, but I couldn’t just leave her. Everything in me had been screaming to go to her.
If Gracie was actually my girlfriend, I would have kissed the tears off of her face. But seeing as how she’d jerked away from me earlier, I was surprised she was even allowing me to stroke her face.
“Nothing happened,” Gracie sobbed.
“Gracie—”
“It’s stupid.” She sniffled then picked up Pugnog. “You’re going to think I’m stupid.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“I wanted this special yarn,” she finally admitted, “and they ran out. See? It’s dumb. You think I’m childish.”
“You’re allowed to like things,” I told her carefully. “Can you buy some different yarn? What are you making?”
“I don’t need you to solve my problems,” she said, blowing her nose.
“To be fair, you did literally hire me to do that, so …”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a special Christmas-themed yarn. I’m just complaining. I’ll get over it.”
“You don’t have to pretend like things don’t bother you with me,” I told her. “I’m not your family.”
“They’re not like that,” she said quickly. “They mean well. They’re just stressed.”
“Uh-huh.”
Gracie fiddled with her mittens. I wondered if she’d made them herself. Probably.
“I don’t know anything about knitting,” I said, sitting down beside her on the bench, “but isn’t it a little late to start making Christmas presents?”
“It’s just a dog sweater. It won’t take that long.”
I looked down at Pugnog, who was wearing yet another Christmas sweater, this one different from the one he’d worn yesterday.
“Not for him. My cousin has a new foster Chihuahua, and I don’t want him to feel left out.”
“Your family really goes all out for Christmas, huh?” I said.
“It’s the happiest time of the year.”
“And that’s why you’re crying on a bench outside of a yarn store,” I said to her.
“I’m under a lot of stress. Wedding planning is stressful,” she protested.
“Especially when it’s someone else’s that you’re not getting paid for,” I added.
Grace crossed her arms and watched the cars, many with Christmas trees attached to their roofs, drive past.
“I see you’re making progress though,” she said. “The CIA should hire you to be a spy. Just flash that tramp stamp around, and people will be falling all over themselves to give you sensitive information.”
I snorted a laugh.
“I always complete the mission.”
I tried not to think about her laptop.
“I hope this mission isn’t taking you away from your family,” she said after another moment of watching cars. “Helping me, I mean.”
“Nah,” I assured her. “I don’t do Christmas.”
“Like, you’re Jewish?”
“Like I told you, I can’t stand the holiday.”
“But surely you must do something for the holidays.”
“You mean aside from getting shit-faced drunk on Christmas Eve and getting in fights with my brothers?”
I kept my tone flippant, but Christmas Eve before last, Anderson and I had gotten into a drop-down, drag-out fight and spent Christmas in the hospital drinking Pedialyte through a straw. Our little sister, Elsa, had sworn after that she was never spending Christmas with us again.
“How can you not like Christmas?” she argued. “The music, the decorations, the lights, the snow that makes the town look like a movie set. There’s special holiday food and Santa and carolers. There has to be some part of Christmas you enjoy.”
“Absolutely nothing,” I told her. “I just try to get through the holiday as quickly as possible. Nevertheless, it keeps starting earlier and earlier every year.”
“Christmas begins right after Halloween.”
“It literally does not.” I crossed my arms.
“Yeah, it does. That’s why they made The Nightmare Before Christmas.”
“That’s not—”
She was smiling.
“Stop fucking with me.” I tugged one of the curls creeping out from under her red wool hat.
“I’m going to help you find the true meaning of Christmas,” Gracie said, standing up and dusting the falling snow off her skirt.
She grabbed my hand.
“There’s a pop-up café that has snowman croissants,” she said as she tugged me down the sidewalk. “And the best spiced nutmeg latte you’ve ever had. That reminds me, don’t let me forget to buy macadamia nuts at the store, and if you can muster up a manifestation of a Christmas miracle, I could use one to make this vegan eggnog.”
