Good Elf Gone Wrong: A Holiday Romantic Comedy

The rest of my family was awake when Hudson came back downstairs.

“Make sure there is a vegan option for the eggnog at the wedding welcome party,” my sister was telling me haughtily. “Miranda doesn’t eat dairy.”

“Why can’t you just buy some from the store,” I argued with my sister. “I don’t know how to make eggnog with nut sludge.”

“You promised you’d plan my wedding,” Kelly snapped at me.

“I just think your guests might prefer store-bought. You know, Ina Garten says store-bought is perfectly fine,” I told her as I flipped the bacon sizzling in the pan.

Hudson sauntered into the kitchen.

The buckle of his belt dug into my lower back as he wrapped his arms around me, peppering freshly shaven kisses on my neck. Sure, he was aggressive and cocky and oh-so male, but I was starting to get used to him. He had a soft side—I was sure of it. A real asshole would have just ignored Pugnog this morning.

“You hungry?” I asked him.

He kissed me under the jaw. “For you? Always.”

One large hand slid under my sweater to briefly caress my stomach, making it flip-flop.

This isn’t real, this isn’t real.

But in that moment, I desperately wished it was.

He grabbed my ass, kneading it, then slapped it lightly.

He was more aggressively sexual than he’d been earlier this morning.

Because we have an audience, I reminded myself viciously.

I couldn’t help but stare at him.

Hudson was shirtless and barefoot, his pants slung low on his narrow hips, the tattoos that traced his muscles twisted on his skin as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

“Where is your shirt?” I asked. “It’s cold.”

He shrugged a tattooed shoulder.

“Maybe you can come back upstairs and warm me up.”

I suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

Stop acting like a teenager.

“Someone has a tramp stamp.” Kelly giggled, trailing her nails along Hudson’s lower back where a Semper Fi tattoo was peeking just barely above his waistband.

My sister tugged at his pants, pulling them down as far as she could without removing his belt. The tattoo rested right above the curve of his ass. I could feel my face flaming as I remembered him stripping off his shorts in the dark earlier this morning.

I wasn’t paying attention to the bacon, and a spatter of grease landed on my hand. I bit back a yelp of pain then stuck my hand under cold water.

“Since I got to see yours, it’s only fair I show you mine,” Kelly said with a flirty laugh.

“It’s only fair,” Hudson agreed.

My sister arched her back, sliding her white pants down to show the crack of her ass.

Hudson hooked his finger in the strap of her pink thong.

“Juicy girl. Is that what you are?” he asked, reading her tattoo.

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?”