The Mistletoe Makeover: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (Renovation Romance Sweet RomCom Series Book 3) by Grace Worthington

Author:Grace Worthington [Worthington, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Poets & Saints Publishing
Published: 2023-11-28T16:00:00+00:00

“You want to join us on the rink?” Brax asks me after dinner. “We’ll take it easy on you. Promise.”

The twins slide on their jackets as Mia and Cora clean up dinner.

I shove my hands in my pockets. “Sounds fun, but I don’t own skates.”

Mia stops with a stack of plates in her hands. “Oh, we have skates.” Then she opens a closet door and shows me an enormous pile. “What size?”

“Um, ten,” I say, praying there are no tens in the pile.

She hands off the plates to Brax and pulls out a pair. “These should work.”

“See you out there,” Vale says as he heads outside.

“I should help your mom clean up,” I say. “Shouldn’t I?”

“No. You owe me this.”

“Owe you?”

She crosses her arms. “The fundraiser auction.”

“I didn’t make you agree. I suggested it, and your brothers were more than willing to participate. But I’m so proud of you for saying yes.”

“There’s still time to back out,” she grumbles.

“If you go through with it, I’ll make sure the concert is fun,” I promise.

“As fun as a root canal?” she says, still looking doubtful. “Or as fun as playing hockey against my brothers?”

I turn to Mia. “Tell me one thing . . . am I going to die?”

“Not die,” she says. “But you might not get out of bed tomorrow.”

I swallow hard. “Can I sneak away?”

“Oh, no,” she says, nearly shoving me out the door.

“Suggesting you participate in a fundraiser is entirely different from me getting destroyed by your brothers.”

“Not really. I’d say it’s just as painful.” She hands me a hockey stick. “I’ll watch you play once I finish cleaning up. Good luck!” She gives me a satisfied grin before slamming the door.

I sigh as I wobble across the yard.

It’s been at least a decade since I’ve even stepped on the ice. As soon as I try, I flail like an idiot—arms windmilling, ankles shaking, before I find my balance.

“Try some drills first,” Vale says, pushing a puck toward me. I attempt to hit some pucks toward the net and miss every shot by a wide margin.

“Did I mention I’m bad at hockey?” I say.

“We don’t have to keep score,” Vale says, practicing some fancy footwork as he glides across the ice.

I attempt to follow him, trying to remember how to balance on skates. Just about the time I feel confident, he passes me a puck. I stretch to reach it with my stick, but it throws off my balance so badly, my feet slip from under me and I fall backwards on my butt.

“You okay?” Vale calls across the rink.

“Sure,” I say, rubbing my aching hip while I get to my feet. I paste on a tough look even though my backside is screaming in pain. “I’m really terrible on skates. Music is my thing. Not hockey.”

“You can’t be any worse than our sister,” Brax says.

“I heard that,” Mia shoots back.

I spin around on the ice and almost fall for a second time.

Mia’s sitting on a bench in the yard, looking like she’s enjoying every minute of my humiliation.

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