Good Elf Gone Wrong: A Holiday Romantic Comedy

I had forgotten how much I liked playing hockey, to be able to focus on the game, not have to worry about fucking up a mission or losing a contract or wondering how in the world I was going to get into a laptop that was locked down like one of the princesses of England.

Not just that, but while my brothers and I liked to scrimmage sometimes, it was nothing like the big to-do Gracie’s family organized.

Sure they were fucked up and held an intervention for her, but those were a small bucket of bad apples. The rest of her family—her cousins, her uncles, her brother—they weren’t half bad. I actually kind of liked them.

“Hudson! Hudson! Hudson!” several of the guys on my team chanted as I followed Gracie outside into her parents’ backyard.

It felt like I was just a normal man, and Gracie was my normal girlfriend, in a normal relationship, not wrapped in the layers of lies I had spun. I let myself believe for a moment, savoring the fantasy.

Someone wants to be a real boy for Christmas.

Fuck off, I told my subconscious.

One of Gracie’s uncles sat me in a chair and handed me a beer and a burger.

I took a huge bite, suddenly starving.

“Eat this venison sausage,” another uncle said, setting a fat sausage on the plate. “Mom, please don’t make a filthy joke,” he added to Grandma Murray, who had her mouth open.

“I mean, we were all thinking it,” she said.

Gracie came over to me, bearing a tray with a bowl of soup, salad, and … toys?

“I don’t need a stuffed animal,” I said as she picked up a hand-knitted Rudolph.

“It’s an ice pack, silly,” she told me.

Her fingers were gentle as she pulled back my collar and pressed the ice pack against my bruised shoulder. Her hand was steady as she held it there. Then she picked up a penguin holding a Christmas wreath and dabbed it gently on my face.

“I already have a bandage,” I said, finally moving her hand off my forehead.

“I can’t believe James attacked you.”

“It means it’s working,” I said, lowering my voice.

Gracie seemed a little apprehensive. Maybe the fight had freaked her out, though it wasn’t much of a fight. James was a complete wuss.

Gracie fidgeted with the bowl of soup on the tray in her lap.

“Is that the clam chowder your aunt made?” I asked her as I took a huge bite of the broccoli salad.

“Aunt Babs has a supersecret recipe. She says she has it written in her will to be left to me because, quote, Dakota can’t cook worth shit.”

I smirked. “I’ll have to go grab a bowl.”

“This is for you,” she said, sliding the tray over to me.

“Where’s your dinner?” I asked her pointedly.

“I’ll get some later,” she said, still with that wide-eyed look.

I held out the burger. “Eat.”

“I—”

“Eat,” I ordered.

She leaned in and took a bite.

“Another.”

As she chewed, she lost that freaked-out look.

I handed her my plate and took the chowder from her.

“Damn,” I said, savoring it. “That is good. Can your aunt add me in her will too?”

Gracie smiled at me softly.

The ice on my heart was threatening to crack.

“You really went above and beyond today,” she said softly. “I feel like that was more than—”

I silenced her with a kiss.

Her body was warm from the fire.

I had just meant to kiss her to keep anyone from overhearing her mention a contract, but then I couldn’t stop kissing her.

“As I said, I like playing hockey,” I whispered against her mouth then kissed her again because I could, because she felt perfect and pure as freshly fallen show.

Gracie sat next to me in the oversized chair barely big enough for two, her leg pressed against mine as we shared the dinner.

“Smile for the scrapbook,” one of her cousins called and took our photo.

“I wasn’t ready,” Gracie mumbled around the bite of hamburger she’d just taken.

“To be fair,” her cousin said as a Polaroid shot out of the camera, “everyone’s going to be looking at this picture for Hudson.”

“Marry him, Gracie,” her brother called, walking by, holding aloft a plate loaded with venison sausage.

“I don’t know why you’re so gung-ho,” joked one of the Team Frosty players. “Hudson’s going to be on our team next year.”

“You can’t have both Nate and Hudson,” Logan complained to his uncle.

“Don’t screw it up, Gracie. You’re the dream holiday team.”

“Hudson wins hockey games, and Gracie cooks,” her uncle concurred. “They’re the whole Christmas package right here.”

“Hey, I make cookies too,” I said with a wry smile.

“And he’s funny.”

It felt nice, like a normal family.

Sure, Gracie called them dysfunctional, but compared to my family, it was Mister Rogers and his band of wholesome puppets in the O’Brien household.

Gracie had finished her dinner and was snuggled up against me. I wasn’t sure she was even aware she was doing it.

I allowed my arm to rest around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, feeling warm and sated by the heat of the fire. All I wanted to do was crawl in bed with her, make love to her, tell her how much I adored her.

The mission …

Fuck the mission.

Just for tonight anyway.

“Did you make spiked hot chocolate, Gracie?” her brother came by to ask.

“Sure. Just let me …”

“If she gets up because of you,” I told him, eyes still half-closed, “I’m going to break your face.”

“The god has spoken.” Logan raised his arms.

A few moments later, Gracie’s brother came back out, lugging the huge pot of hot chocolate while Pugnog and several other dogs roamed around, begging for scraps.

“You didn’t bring the homemade marshmallows,” Gracie protested.

“I have them!” Codie hoisted a tray above his head.

I peered at it. “That looks like it should be in a magazine.”

“And he’s probably going to drop it.” Gracie sighed.

“No, I’m not!” Codie yelled as he zoomed after Logan.

I laughed deep in my chest and kissed her sweet mouth.

“Ugh. I’m a terrible hostess. I should—”

“No,” I said, wrapping my arms around her, holding her in place against me. “You’re perfect.”

I want this forever.

“You would be a great mother. You always go above and beyond. I saw all those hockey-themed bento boxes you made. Don’t act like you don’t like to show off,” I joked.

“That was nothing.” She waved a hand.

“Please. My mom never did half this shit.”

Gracie looked up at me, brown eyes sparking in the light of the bonfire.

“I can come by and decorate your apartment for Christmas,” she offered. “Give you all the homey touches and make your house smell like cookies.”

Ice-cold lake water washed over me.

And just like that, I had a plan.

This is why you can never be a normal person.

“Gracie,” I murmured against her neck. “I’d love for you to come decorate my place for Christmas.”

She beamed at me.

“But,” I lowered my voice, “only if you wear that elf outfit.”