Good Elf Gone Wrong: A Holiday Romantic Comedy

“We should have made popcorn for this.”

Dakota and I were sitting on the boxes of decorations, watching Hudson carry in Christmas tree after Christmas tree.

“It’s all my fantasies come to life.” Dakota fanned herself. “If I’d known there were going to be hot guys chopping down Christmas trees with a chainsaw, I would have made sure I got into town earlier.”

Hudson’s leather jacket was off, and his tight gray T-shirt rode up slightly, exposing the edge of a tattoo on his hip as he swung one of the large Christmas trees off his shoulder before setting it carefully on the stand.

My cousins, who’d come to “help decorate,” were really using it as an excuse to make lecherous comments about Hudson and drink wine.

“Tell him to take off his shirt,” Dakota whispered to me.

“No,” I hissed back, scooting off the box I was sitting on, and opened it, just for something to do that didn’t include fantasizing about Hudson.

Not that I would, since he was, you know, not my type.

I pulled out a pitcher and hurried to the catering kitchen to fill it up.

“He works for you. You can just order him to take off his shirt.”

“He doesn’t work for me like that,” I said to Dakota, letting the sound of the water disguise the words. “Besides, he doesn’t think I’m attractive.”

“Bullshit. You have great tits.”

“Hudson doesn’t look at me the way he looks at Kelly,” I said, shutting off the water, hating how insecure I felt. “Not to mention, he’s getting a front-row seat to our family. No man in his right mind would want anything to do with the O’Brien disaster.”

“You don’t have to date him, just sleep with him.”

“No way. He hates Christmas.”

“How can you hate Christmas?” Dakota asked. “It’s literally the best time of the year.”

“Because Hudson is a grinch,” I said in a low voice as I approached one of the freshly cut trees propped in its stand.

I poured water into the red pan then stood up and fluffed out the branches, closing my eyes and inhaling the smell of Christmas. I just wanted to wrap it around me like a warm blanket, let it keep me safe, whisk me away to a magical land where it was always the holidays.

A large hand slid under my skirt, and I jumped. Hudson’s slightly stubbly chin rested against my shoulder briefly.

The peanut gallery of cousins yodeled like horny cats.

“Get your money’s worth,” Dakota whispered to me.

Hudson’s head snapped up.

“It’s okay. Dakota knows.” I patted him awkwardly on one bulging bicep.

“What the fuck?” Hudson dragged me back in the catering kitchen while my cousins whooped.

Contrary to what my cousins believed, my fake boyfriend wasn’t taking me there for an afternoon quickie.

He grabbed picked up a bucket from under the sink, set it in the basin, and turned the water on full blast.

“Are you out of your mind?” he snarled, shaking me.

I braced my hands against his muscular chest.

“Dakota’s fine.”

“Three people can keep a secret if two of them are dead,” Hudson said, clearly aggravated.

“Dakota’s my alter ego. She won’t way a word,” I promised.

Hudson shoved me away from him.

“You know, I did two combat tours in Iraq, and somehow being your fake boyfriend is way more of a clusterfuck,” he said, pacing in front of me. He picked up another empty bucket from under a nearby storage cabinet and slammed it under the rushing faucet.

Then he turned on me, his silver eyes dark.

I scuttled backward, my hip banging into a nearby table as he advanced on me.

“And stop,” he continued, crowding my personal space, “jumping when I touch you. You’re supposed to not be able to keep your hands off of me.”

I was leaning back as far as someone who did zero stretching or exercise could, my face turned away from him, needing to escape all that raw masculine energy. It was making me feel lightheaded.

“Touch me,” Hudson ordered.

I slid my hands as far away from him as I could.

“Do it, Gracie. You want to win, don’t you?”

No, I wanted to put on my favorite pajamas and curl up in my bed and watch Hallmark movies while I knitted.

“No one’s going to believe that you’re the good girl gone bad if you act like I’m trying to kidnap you and throw you in my van every time I grab your ass.”

I made a strangled nose as I felt his belt buckle dig into my belly.

“Touch me. Touch me like I did to you.” His words were like a curse.

I closed my eyes, imagining myself grabbing the firm behind underneath the heavy canvas work pants, sliding my hands up the muscular thighs, pressing my face in the crook of his neck to inhale the scent of him.

“I can’t,” I said, eyes still squeezed shut.

I felt Hudson close a large rough hand over my wrist.

My heart hammered in my chest as I wondered if he was going to make me touch him there, with just a thin layer of fabric between my hand and that huge throbbing cock from the photo, and if I was thrilled or freaked out by the prospect.

Instead, Hudson brought my hand up to his face, his palm briefly lingering against the back of my hand as he guided me to cup his cheek.

I opened my eyes.

“See?” he said softly. “It’s not that scary.”

I swallowed heavily.

“Touch me like you want me,” he whispered.

I let my hand drift up the slightly scratchy cheek to his hairline, running my fingernails along his scalp through the thick soft black hair, making him shiver slightly, the tremors sending zings of electricity through me.

“Not so difficult,” he said, his voice rumbling through my chest. “You can manhandle me too.”

“I don’t want to touch your man handle,” I blurted out.

He bit back a laugh.

I wiggled out from under him and shut off the water.

Hudson reached around me, the air puffing against my flushed skin as he picked up the heavy buckets.

“This one’s looking a little dry,” Dakota called when she saw me.

“No, she’s not,” Hudson said in a low voice.

Was he talking about me? Was he trying to make me wet? My heart pounded. Maybe Hudson did think I was attractive.

Or wait, no. My sister was marching over to us.

“Where were you?” Kelly’s voice was shrill.

Hudson was immediately behind me. I could just reach back and grab his man handle.

“Just, you know,” I said, trying to put some emphasis on the words so she would think Hudson and I were getting in the holiday spirit back there.

Except you were, technically, I thought hysterically.

Hudson had been practically between my legs.

I’d made a joke about his man handle.

It was hardly an innocent conversation between two people who had entered into a fake relationship contract.

Kelly scoffed. “Like you’re going to have sex in public with him. I don’t believe it.”

I didn’t believe it either.

“I just need to finish giving these trees water,” I croaked.

“You better. I thought you already left to go to the gingerbread house decorating.”

My face fell.

“They started without me?” I cried.

Kelly shrugged. “I guess. Violet has some sort of Instagram live stream going. Anyway, gingerbread houses are for kids. I don’t know why you like it so much.”

I looked around at all the trees in the venue that needed to be cared for.

“It won’t take that long if we all work together,” Dakota assured me.

Kelly scoffed. “I’m the bride. I’m not helping. Also I just had my nails done.”

“Just go. I can give the trees water,” Hudson offered gruffly.

Dakota was giving me a maniacal smile.

My heart was flip-flopping.

He’s right. You do have low standards. One guy offers to do something nice for you, and you fall head over heels.

“You don’t have to,” I said to Hudson. “Anyway, I also need to straighten everything up. We can’t just leave it like this. The venue owner will be mad.”

“No, he won’t,” Hudson said. “I know him,” he added when he saw my confused look. “It will be fine.” He set down one of the heavy buckets.

Wrong. Hudson being nice to me wasn’t fine. I needed him to go back to being an asshole, because I was afraid if I didn’t hate him, I might start to fall for him.