Page 46 of Season's Schemings
“Yeah.” I give myself a shake. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Um, because you’ve been staring at that door for the past five minutes like you want to kill it?”
“Oh.” I laugh nervously, whisps of white surrounding my face. “Sorry. I’m nervous to see everyone. Adam and Elizabeth.”
“Awh, Mads. Elizabeth ain’t got nothing on you.”
“How would you know?”
“Instagram, duh. Did some research before coming here.”
I blink, surprised that he took the time to do this. “That was… thorough of you.”
“Of course. That’smyrule number one: never hit the ice unprepared.”
“Always with the hockey.” I peek up at him quizzically. “And do you really mean that—about Elizabeth? Or are you just trying to pump me up?”
“I always mean what I say.” He looks down at me and gives me a goofy, soft smile. “And I might be biased, but I know that she isn’t half as great as you are. Plus, you have way better boobs.”
My eyes go wide and I slap his arm as he laughs, but I’m laughing too. His cheeky teasing helps me relax, and I have a feeling he knows that. “Thanks. I think. If all else fails, I’ll just tell myself that.”
He looks at me for a moment, and then slides our bags off his shoulders. Puts a big hand on each of my arms and looks me dead in the eye. “In all seriousness, you can do this, Maddie. I’m here for you. I’ve got your back, no matter what goes down. I’m on your team, remember that. Okay?”
“Okay.” I nod slowly, suddenly overcome with happiness that he’s here. “Good pep talk, Hockey Man.”
“Gotta practice for when I’m captain one day.” He gives my arms another squeeze. “You ready?”
“Ready,” I confirm.
He picks up the bags again, and rings the doorbell before I can chicken out.
Oh, Lordy.
“And if you feel like killing someone, I’m not above stabbing Adam’s gingerbread man with a toothpick.”
“Excuse me?”
Seb raises a brow at me. “Didn’t you say you have a tradition where you make gingerbread people in everyone’s likeness for Christmas? One cookie per person?”
Wow. I mentioned that once, weeks ago. This guy listens.
“Uh-huh,” I reply.
“Well, I’m bringing a new tradition.” Seb shoots me a cheeky grin. “Voodoo cookies for anyone who upsets my wife.”
I don’t even get a chance to process how simultaneously unhinged and, well, sweet that is, because the door flies open, and suddenly, I’m face to face with the woman I spent most of my adult life thinking was going to be my mother-in-law.
“Madelyn!” Mrs. Plumlee gives me a quick, only slightly awkward embrace before nodding up at Seb. “Come in, come in. We’ll get you out of the cold before we do introductions. Don’t want you freezing to death out there.”
Seb smiles cheerily, and with the few rogue snowflakes caught in his tousled hair, he looks like he belongsina Hallmark Christmas movie. “No worries, Mrs. Plumlee. I’m from Canada, originally. Used to the cold.”
“Oh, is that so?” She peers at Seb curiously as we step into the cabin. I’m hit with a dizzying wave of nostalgia—from the scent of the crackling applewood fireplace to the squidgy, dated red carpet beneath my feet.
“Yes, ma’am,” Seb replies, all sweet and polite and angelic all of a sudden as he unbuttons his gray wool peacoat. He hangs it up, then helps me out of my bulky parka. The perfect gentleman. “But I have to say, I like living in Atlanta. Much hotter.”
He looks right at me as he says this, his eyes briefly traveling over me before he winks. Alicia gives a short laugh, shaking her head, and when she turns away to hang up our coats, Seb gives me a little thumbs up.
Mrs. Plumlee has us leave our bags by the door, and then leads us down the hallway and into the living room, where I know the rest of the crew will be sitting. Waiting for us. I take a deep breath before I round the corner, knowing that once everyone sees me with Seb, there’s no going back…