Page 2 of Merry Pucking Christmas
I inwardly groan, hoping it’s not my great aunt Gertrude. “Who?”
“Hmm,” she hums.
“Mom, who did he invite?”
I can tell my mother is smiling even though I can’t see her. “Oh, I have to go. There’s somebody at the door.”
Before my mother can hang up, I shout, “There’s nobody at the door.” And the call drops.
I leave my dorm, and head downstairs to wait for the Uber to take me to the airport. It’s chilly here in North Carolina, but not as chilly as it’ll be in Colorado this time of year.
The Uber arrives and drops me off at the airport without incident. As soon as I check in for my flight and make my way to the bar, I slump into a nice barstool.
Who’s coming as a special guest to my parent’s house? It could be anyone. I hope it’s not my ex-boyfriend, Chandler. My parents loved him, and sometimes I think they still hope we’ll one day get back together.
Chandler was a nice guy. There was just no chemistry. Honestly, I think it’s mainly because I was secretly in love with York, I couldn’t give Chandler my undivided attention. Which wasn’t fair to him.
So, I broke it off.
Chandler’s happy now. Or so I heard. I think he’s engaged to somebody new. I’m not really sure. Maybe I should check my socials a few times a week instead of secretly obsessing over a certain hockey player.
“What can I get for you?” the bartender asks me.
I give her a weak smile. “A vodka and soda, please.”
“Heading home for the holidays?” the bartender, with a name tag that reads, Wendy, smiles back at me.
I nod. “Yeah.”
She makes my drink. “Families can be tough.”
“It’s not even my family I’m worried about. Every year…” my words fall away when I realize Wendy is no longer paying any attention to me. Instead she’s frozen, staring over my shoulder, her mouth hanging open. “Are you okay?” I ask, peeking over my shoulder to see what’s caught her attention.
Oh.
I see.
Standing in all his glorious beauty is York Steele. Yes,theYork Steele.
“Howdy,” York says. “Can I sit here?” He points to the barstool beside me.
Both Wendy and I are momentarily stunned into silence as York’s larger-than-life presence sucks all the air out of the bar.
“Hi,” I say with a blush.
Wendy slides my drink over to me, slowly. I honestly don’t even think she’s finished making it, and as I sip it, there’s no soda at all. Vodka only. I don’t mind though.
Ineedthe liquid courage.
“You're York Steele,” Wendy says, ever the observant bartender. Her eyes are huge as she stares unabashedly at York.
He nods. “Last time I checked.” He winks at me as he slides into the barstool. “Hey you,” he says to me, nudging my elbow with his. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“You know him?” Wendy asks me.
I smile. “He’s practically family.”
Wendy smiles, realizing she has a job to do and snaps to attention. “Can I get you a drink, sir,” she says to York, nervously.