He wants a silent night. She didn’t get the memo.
In my defense, I didn’t know he was an injured hockey star when I jumped on him. In the dark. In a blizzard. In his driveway. While I was wearing a bunny suit.
Do you know how hard it is to see out of those things?
I can’t blame him for thinking he was being mugged—and pinning me down with those strong arms and thick thighs.
Turns out Gabe Woods doesn’t like the flashing Christmas extravaganza I’ve created on his front lawn. Turns out he doesn’t like Christmas at all.
But then a fire leaves my drama kids without a theater for their Christmas play, and guess who’s the only person who can help me restage it on ice? Yup, Grumpy McHockeyhunk.
When late-night bickering on set sparks chemistry hot enough to melt the rink, might my frosty hockey grump thaw before curtain-up…?
