by Max Monroe
“Georgia.” Kline’s voice caught my attention. “Come over here and tell Dean that Leslie isn’t that bad.”
I laughed outright as I walked over toward my husband and sat in his lap.
“Baby, I love that you try to see the best in people, but Leslie is pretty much the worst.”
“Ha!” Dean smiled like the Cheshire cat. “My point exactly.”
“Thanks for the help, baby.” Kline just shook his head on a laugh, and I shrugged.
“That woman used to steal my lunch out of the break room. And one time, it was cheesecake. Believe me, after that, I will never be her number one fan.”
Never steal a woman’s cheesecake. If that wasn’t a valuable life lesson right there, I didn’t know what was.
“The girls asleep, Georgie?” my dad asked, and I realized that for the first time in the past thirty-six hours, he wasn’t dressed as the infamous Santa Dick.
It was a much-needed change of scenery. Plus, I was tired of hearing Julia call him Santas Dick.
“Yep,” I responded with a nod. “They were asleep before I even turned the lights out.”
“Ace and Gunner were the same exact way,” Cassie said and snuggled in closer to Thatch. “Christmas wore them the fluff out.”
I looked across the room to my mother.
“See, Mom? It is possible for kids to calm down on Christmas without the need for booze,” I teased, and she grinned. “Speaking of which,” I added and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. “I forgot to tell my brother Merry Christmas and that our childhood was a sham.”
“A sham?” my mother snorted. “The only sham in your childhood revolved directly around that pillow you loved so much.”
“Oh yeah!” my dad agreed on a chuckle. “Georgie loved that pillow. Hell, she—”
I cut him off before he got started. “Enough about the pillow, Dad!”
“Are they talking about your dirty little secret, otherwise known as your hump pillow, Wheorgie?” Cassie chimed in, and I groaned.
“I’m ignoring everyone right now.”
Okay, yeah, it was true that I did, in fact, have a “hump” pillow when I was in the early years of…discovering myself, but that didn’t mean everyone in my life needed to know about it.
But, apparently, my family and friends thought otherwise. Those bastards were incapable of understanding personal boundaries.
Kline squeezed my shoulder, and I could feel his warm chuckles against my neck.
“It’s not funny,” I muttered, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, squeezing me tighter to his chest.
“I’m a fan of the pillow,” he whispered, and I snorted.
“Yeah, and you’re also a total weirdo who managed to commandeer that pillow from my parents’ attic.”
He just grinned, and I shook my head in amusement.
“I’m still ignoring everyone right now and texting my brother!” I announced before anyone else decided to air out my teenage dirty laundry.
“Tell Willy we said hello and Merry Christmas!” my dad exclaimed.
Me: Merry Christmas, William! Give Melody and my niece a kiss from me!
My phone buzzed with his response a moment later.
Will: Merry Christmas, Gigi. Give Kline, the girls, and our parents my love. Hope you guys are having fun at the cabin.
How did he know our parents were here? Hell, how did he even know we were at the cabin? I sure as fuck hadn’t told him.
Me: Wait…what? How did you know that we were at the cabin?
Will: Because I was at Mom and Dad’s the day Julia FaceTimed them from her iPad and invited them.
Oh. My. God.
My daughter. My sweet baby angel.
She was the culprit.
It was always the people you least expected, wasn’t it?
Me: And you didn’t think to tell me?!?
Will: I guess it slipped my mind.
Me: Uh-huh. Sure. You were probably just thankful they wouldn’t be stopping by your house unannounced.
Will: Exactly.
Me: You’re such a jerk.
Will: I love you too, Gigi.
Me: Pffft. Whatever. Btw Mom’s eggnog is chock-full of sugar and booze. And that’s not a new recipe. It’s the one she has been using since we were kids.
Will: I’m well aware that Mom’s eggnog has liquor in it.
What? He knew? While everyone continued to chat and laugh around me, I angrily typed out another response.
Me: Even when we were kids???
Will: Of course. Why do you think I’d beg them for more every year?
That bastard.
Me: Seriously, William? And you didn’t think to tell me that either?
Will: You’ve always been a bit neurotic around Christmas. The spiked alcohol was much-needed to chill you the fuck out.
Me: You’re the worst brother ever.
Will: I love you, Gigi.
I almost sent him a middle finger emoji, but I remembered it was Christmas. Now wasn’t the time for rage.
Me: Love you too. But don’t think I’ll forget this conversation. And payback is the baddest chick I know…
The rage would come later.
I’d start plotting tomorrow.
Will: ☺ Merry Christmas, sis.
“Will and Mel doing good?” Kline asked as I set my phone on the coffee table.
“Uh-huh,” I answered and met his deliciously blue eyes. “You know what I just found out?”
He quirked a brow. “What?”
“Guess who was the one to invite my parents to the cabin.”
“Who?”
“Julia.”
Kline’s jaw dropped. “No shit?”
“No shit,” I answered. “Apparently, she FaceTimed them from her iPad. Will just so happened to be there to hear the call.”
He chuckled softly in disbelief. “Good Lord, I didn’t expect that one.”
“Yeah. Me either.”
I guess that leaves one question unanswered…
I took a quick glance around the room and decided Quinn Bailey was my best bet on figuring out the other part of the sabotage puzzle. That insanely handsome, blue-eyed, Southern gentleman wouldn’t lie.
“Hey, Quinn,” I called for his attention.
“Yeah, darling?”
“Who invited you guys to the cabin?”
“Wes,” he said while nodding toward the turncoat himself.
“Shit,” Wes muttered and held up both hands. “I swear to God it was an accident, Georgia. I was all pumped about the win, and that ESPN interviewer asked me about my holiday plans, and it just kind of slipped. And then,” he continued and pointed toward each and every one of the guys on the team, “these guys just kind of invited themselves.”
“Dude,” Sean chimed in, “you invited us.”
“Yeah,” Cam agreed. “You’re the one who told us we could come to the cabin.”
My glare returned to Wes, and he cringed.
“I’m so sorry, Georgia.”
I tried to stay strong, but I could only hold that fake glare for a good thirty seconds until my face started to crack like an eggshell, and I burst into giggles.
“You’re the world’s worst liar, Wheorgie,” Cassie announced, and I flipped her the bird.
“Hey,” I started once I got my laughter under control, “I had Wes going for a little bit there. That has to at least count for something.”
“You’re really not pissed?” he asked, and I shook my head.
“I might’ve been when an extra ten mouths to feed showed up at the cabin yesterday, but no, I’m not mad now,” I answered honestly. Because I wasn’t mad. I was just thankful.
And blessed. So, so blessed.
“I just want you all to know one very important thing,” I said and looked at each and every face in the room. “Thank you for spending Christmas with us this year. I love you guys.”
Kline gave me a tight hug and kissed my forehead while everyone in the r
oom returned their own sweet sentiments of thank yous and I love yous and Merry Christmases.
“I’d like to add something to that,” Quinn announced and stood to his feet. “Thanks to Georgia and Kline’s generous hospitality, this has been a fantastic Christmas. And,” he added with a giant smile on his face, “it’s about to be the best season for the Mavericks because we’re going all the way, baby!”
“Hell yeah, boy!” Cam exclaimed, and every single Maverick in our living room hopped out of their seat and started high-fiving and cheersing one another.
And I didn’t care about the noise or the possibility the guys might wake the kids up.
Instead, I just savored the moment.
Life was good.
I mean, it isn’t every day that a bunch of hunky, professional football players are dancing around in your living room, right?
Not to mention these guys are the soon-to-be champions…
Yeah, life is good.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Sleigh Ride Sleighed It
Flicking and fluttering, the flames of the fireplace in our bedroom cast a glow on the wall and wafted their heat toward us as we snuggled in bed.
Georgia sighed, and I cuddled closer, pulling her body into mine and touching our foreheads together. It’d been a long day of presents, Christmas wishes, and mayhem, and I couldn’t imagine anything better than relaxing with the love of my life while the sounds of the house filtered in around us.
The kids had been in bed for a long while, but I could still hear a few chuckles drifting up from the players downstairs as they played their fifth game of poker and fell a little deeper into a bottle of scotch. Cassie and Thatch were loud enough to hear even with a room on the other end of the hallway, and the bedroom closest had Winnie and Wes, the safest choice of all the options, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t hear an occasional giggle.
I moved just enough to put my lips to Georgia’s forehead, and she did a combination of a contented sigh and a groan.
“Something on your mind?” I asked freely, knowing Georgia liked to talk things out. I wanted her to settle. Into the bed, into happiness, and definitely into me. We had lovemaking to get to.
“Nothing really except that I guess I’ll just have to try for the best Christmas ever for you and the girls again another year.”
“Really?” I asked and pulled her away just enough to look her in the eye, mystified that she still didn’t see it.
“Really, what?” Her thumb stroked the skin of my own, and I focused myself on relishing every stroke as I set out on my journey to explain it to her.
“How can you still not know that this year was perfect?”
She scoffed, and the covers jerked as she kicked out a leg. Obviously, our discussion was making her hot.
“Kline, come on. I had a whole plan. Traditions and memories to make. None of it happened according to plan. We didn’t ice-skate or drink hot chocolate by the fire, we didn’t get to go for a Christmas hike after opening presents, and I didn’t get to serve you guys the roasted pork tenderloin I’ve been reading up on for months.”
“We can skate and have hot chocolate tomorrow, and I can’t wait to have the pork tenderloin one night at home. We’re not hiking people, let’s be real, but if your heart’s really set on it, I’ll make it happen. But, baby, if memories were what you were after, you got them.”
“Kline—”
“No, Benny. Hear me out.” I put my hands to her jaw and made her focus on me completely. “We were together, our girls were happy, and we got a whole lot of laughs out of the crazy people around us this year. To me, I’ll never forget any of it. Georgie, Christmas this year? You slayed it.”
“Kline—” she started, jerking her head in my hands enough that I had to gently pull her focus back.
“Scratch that. You sleighed it.” Her face contorted, not really with confusion, but I still felt the need to clarify. “You know, because of Santas Dick and his reindeer and shit?”
She laughed, a little crease forming between her eyebrows. “Oh yeah, I’ll have memories of Santa’s dick for years to come.”
“All right,” I groaned dramatically. “I guess, if you really need him to, Big-dick Brooks will accept the job of writing over that particular DVD.”
She giggled as I rolled into her and nuzzled her neck. “Kline!”
“Wow, not even inside you and you’re already yelling my name.” I looked down at my cock, hanging out innocently between our bodies and already getting hard at the thought of being inside my woman, and spoke to him as though he were human. “Good job, man. You’re officially in the running for a commendation.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
I rubbed my nose against hers and hummed. “No, baby. I’m happy. Today, for Christmas, and every other day. You make me that way. You want perfect? You’re it.”
Her eyes grew moist as I pulled my head away from her neck and searched them.
“Kline?” she called softly. I smiled.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I guess I’m pretty awesome, huh?”
I barked a startled laugh, and she smiled, cupping my cheek with her hand.
Her voice was soft and serious as she remarked, “To land you, I’d have to be.”
Is it obvious I’m the luckiest man in the world?
Because I am.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
The End ☺
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THANK YOU for reading. This series, these characters, have changed our lives; we hope Sleighed It made your holiday brighter, funnier, and gave you all the Christmas feels.
THANK YOU to our readers. We will be forever grateful for you.
THANK YOU to our tribe. The amazing people that help us, guide us, and keep our asses in line. You know who you are. We love you, adore you, and we’re never letting you go—not without a restraining order anyway.
THANK YOU to our families. Thank you for understanding that when we say, “I’m almost done. Just a little more until I finish this chapter.” generally means it’ll be another four hours before we exit the writing cave, and we’ll probably smell like BO and Cheetos dust when we do. If it wasn’t for you guys, we couldn’t do what we do. And then there’d be riots, obviously. So, really, you’re saving mankind.
As always, all our love.
XOXO,
Max Monroe
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