Chapter 20 #2
Oh, the confidence of childhood. And the conniving.
This youth with barely a decade of life behind him made me part of the war strategy to seduce the rival team’s best thrower to win the game.
This kid was going places. But what did I expect given his family?
I imagined someone would come away maimed if they ever tried Dutch Blitz.
I made a mental note to never mention the idea to Stephanie.
It had been bad enough when I’d broken a finger in college playing a round with Kelsi and Ryan.
My first and only broken bone. Never again.
“And what makes you think I can get her twitterpated?” I asked, raising a solemn eyebrow.
Jackson scoffed. “Because she looks at you like Nala looked at Simba, and she goes red.”
Only because Emmett’s youngest daughter was a Lion King lover did I understand that reference. But I nodded solemnly and saluted him. “Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll take one for the team.”
Jackson held out his hand, and I shook it. “I’ve got your back,” he promised.
“Dad, you’re the best long arm,” Ryder said, giving orders.
“Uncle Austin, you’re in charge of keeping the snowballer going.
” He handed the machine off to his mustached chef uncle.
“Everyone else, spread out and stay low. Auntie Steph is Mister Nash’s target, and Jackson will be his backup. We clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Time!” Hailey screamed from the porch, standing and perching Eden on her hip. “Ladies and gentlemen, friends and enemies, let the 5th Annual Addams Family Snowball War begin…” She paused and glanced at Zara. “Would you do the honours?”
Zara’s face, perfectly intact with makeup this morning, beamed. “NOW!”
I locked eyes on my target and moved into raid position. Jackson hovered in my shadow, awaiting my move. The kid had a lot more faith in my twitterpating abilities than I did.
Ivy flung a ball in my direction, and I dodged left. It went long, and Jackson grunted behind me. The girls’ team cheered. Guess I was on my own.
“Hey, Steph!” I called out, sidestepping another missile. “Looking good!”
She paused, mid-throw and glanced at me. “You sweet talkin’ me?”
Her attempt at a Texas drawl warmed my chest. Man, she was adorable, bundled up like a snowman in her white parka and burgundy pom-pom knit hat.
“Is it working?” I prowled closer, tossing a missile towards Ava. It splattered on her knee. Score. I get she was only seven, but I was taking every win I could manage here.
Stephanie arched her ball at me. I ducked, but the wind rustled past my ear. The guys weren’t kidding. She was fast and accurate.
“And you thought I needed good luck?” She sniffed, a smile tugging at her lips as she flung another snowball, nailing Gabe. She whooped.
I edged closer. “Well, I kissed you, so I assume that helped your performance.” I heard a childish snort crossed with a gag behind me. Oh look, I had my shadow back. “This was your idea, Peter Pan,” I hissed over my shoulder, and Jackson laughed again.
Stephanie dropped the ball she’d scooped up, slack-jawed. “I… you… what?”
“Now!” I charged the remaining ten feet towards Stephanie, flinging a snowball at her.
She scrambled backwards, her boots slipping as she tried to gain traction. But my legs were longer, and with Jackson at my back, I was shielded from oncoming projectiles. One of my snowballs hit her in the midsection, but she didn’t stop moving.
“Cheater!” someone called, but I pursued her. When she was just in front of me, she stopped on a dime, sidestepping. Then I fell. My arms flung out, snagging Stephanie on my way down.
She screamed, and I twisted to avoid landing on her.
And man, that snow was deceptively hard.
The air whooshed from my lungs between the impact of the ground against my spine and Stephanie half on top of my chest. Silently, I congratulated myself on the foresight to be wearing my contacts instead of my regular frames.
“You fight dirty, Steph,” I grunted when I could suck enough oxygen in. Sweet fresh air and the smell of vanilla.
Stephanie lifted her head from my chest, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Using my nephew as a shield and sweet talking me doesn’t count?”
I shrugged, one arm still wrapped around her waist. “Strategy. You tripped me after I tagged you out.”
She squawked, smacking my chest. “I did no such thing. You’re clumsy and can’t admit it.”
“That the story you stickin’ to, darlin’?” I rasped, eyes boring into hers. Daring. Our faces only inches apart.
Stephanie’s cheeks reddened, even as her eyes softened. “Maybe. I don’t hate how it ended up.” Her gaze dipped down to my lips.
She was attracted to me. I wasn’t imagining this tension between us.
The way she looked at my lips. The moment Zara interrupted last night.
The things I liked in Assistant and Friend Steph were the same things I liked in Girlfriend Steph.
And looking into those big hazel eyes, I saw a future.
My future. “Steph,” I whispered her name and cupped her cheek with my gloved hand.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and I probably would’ve kissed her except—
SPLAT!
Cold. My face stung with the sharpness of a thousand needles, and I grunted when Stephanie’s elbow jammed into my ribs as she scrambled off me.
I was blind, my skin burning as I tried to brush the rogue snowball off my face.
But my gloved hands refused to cooperate.
Another set of hands shoved mine away before gently scooping the snow from my skin.
“Who was that?” I growled, ready to rain down justice on the sneak who broke the rules and ruined my kissing plans. When I could sit up, I loosened my scarf. Man, I hated snow running down my neck.
Stephanie giggled—something I’d never heard before—her cheeks still pink. As much as I hated snow to the face, I hated our moment being interrupted even more.
“Oops,” Jackson said without an ounce of apology in his blue eyes and buck-toothed grin.
“So much for a wingman,” I muttered, standing and holding out my hand to Stephanie.
She slipped her hand in mine, letting me pull her to her feet. “Was I your mission?” she asked, glancing between the two of us and crossing her arms.
“I believe the words used were…” Leaning closer, I whispered, “Snowball seduction.” Louder, I added, “Twitterpate Auntie Steph to distraction. Right, Jackson?”
“You little sneak!” Stephanie stepped towards Jackson, but she wobbled.
I snagged her around the waist, tugging her back to my chest. “Ah, ah, careful,” I whispered in her ear, relishing the moment.
She tried half-heartedly to tug out of my loose grip, but she was too busy using me to regain her balance to offer much of a fight.
“You were hit. That means you’re frozen. Tripping is extra time.”
Stephanie scoffed, shoving at my arm. “I didn’t trip you! You fell!”
“You tripped him,” Jackson affirmed with a solemn nod, scooping up more snow and packing it into a sphere.
Stephanie pinned him with a glare. “And you face-washed my man. You better run.”
Jackson’s eyes flew open, and he dashed pell-mell across the carnage of the battlefield without a backwards glance. Clearly he considered this as no idle threat.
“Your man, huh?”
Stephanie twisted in my arms, giving my chest a light shove. “Snowball seduction?”
“Gotta take one for the team.” I shrugged. “Not that they had to twist my arm or anything.” I leaned in, since she was still tagged out. “Game on, sweetheart.”
If I wasn’t already convinced this was the weirdest Christmas I’d ever experienced, the Addams Christmas Eve schedule confirmed it.
After the buffet-style breakfast and snowball war, which the guys’ team won thanks to the snowball seduction technique—stuff of legends, that—we had a pocket of downtime before the official festivities started at three o’clock.
And by official, I mean more food than an entire team of hockey players could eat and an ugly sweater contest.
I tugged the sweater over my head and checked the small mirror hanging on my bedroom wall.
It was terrible. Hideous really. And I couldn’t wait to see Stephanie’s reaction.
A light tap came at the door, and I did one final check before facing my hopefully-more-than-fake girlfriend.
This level of ugliness might be a deal-breaker.
I swung the door open with a flourish, leaning my forearm against the frame and smirking.
Stephanie’s mouth puckered into a perfect O as she took my sweater in.
It might have stoked my ego if I thought she was checking me out, but no.
This was a look of horrific revulsion. Unease skittered through my veins.
Had I gone too far? I had bowed to the decisions of five kids under the age of twelve when it came to fashion design after all.
I mean, that might not have been my smartest decision. But were dozens of Elf on the Shelfs duct-taped to a scratchy red-and-green knit pullover with tinsel and fairy lights hot-glued onto it to complete the ensemble beyond the scope of this game? I thought the kids were onto something.
Stephanie shoved me back through the half-open door and shut it. Leaning against it, she covered her mouth, shoulders shaking.
“Steph?” The suspense was worse than the loose thread tickling my neck.
She snorted. Actually snorted, and then the laughter rang out in peals as she tried to muffle it with her hand.
Okay, maybe I was on the right track after all then.
“What… What did you do? And what do you have against tinsel?” Stephanie gasped for air, holding her sides. “Are those… elves?!” The last word came out with a wheeze.
I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling a bit sheepish. “I may have enlisted the help of the guys’ small fry for this.”
Her eyes softened, and the laughter faded into a quiet echo around my room. “You’re really involved with them.”
I shrugged. “They’re family.”