“Okay.” I nod. “Where’s Dean?” I ask, realizing we haven’t seen him.
“Probably upstairs with Willow. They’ve been pretty much living together, so I’m not going up there to see them. I’m scared I’ll walk in on something.”
I laugh as she walks away. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help but look at her ass as she leaves. It’s small and firm and perfect like everything else about her.
When she disappears into the office, I finally tear my gaze away and go start the car.
Time seems to be passing at light speed. Before we know it, the holidays will be over and we’ll be back at the school. I can’t believe it’s almost January and I’m still not back with my team. After we get back I’m going to have to make a trip to Boston and confront Matthews again. Demand my spot back on the team.
Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’ll soon be back on the ice in front of an arena full of people and all will be right in my world again.
“Is it really necessary to still make cookies?” Lincoln whines. “We know Santa’s not real.”
My dad swats him on the back of the head. “Of course it’s necessary. It’s Christmas Eve and it’s Wentworth family tradition to make cookies.”
Lincoln groans. “Heath is having a party,” he refers to his best friend. “I wanted to go.”
“You know we make cookies every year,” my dad tells him, slipping on an apron. “So that’s your problem to deal with, not mine.” Linc mutters something under his breath and my dad narrows his eyes. “Don’t push my buttons.”
“Sorry.” Lincoln picks up a spatula and looks at it like it’s personally offended him.
My dad points at me. “You and Bennett are in charge of sugar cookies. Dean and Willow, you two will make peanut butter cookies. Lincoln, Mom, and I will make chocolate chip.”
Lincoln whines, “Why do I have to work with you guys?”
“For starters, because you keep complaining. Secondly, because you’re the youngest. Third, because there’s no one else here to work with you so you’re stuck with your lovely mom and dad.”
Lincoln rests his arms on the island counter top. “Am I being punished for not having a girlfriend?”
“If you choose to look at it that way, then yes.” My dad nods.
My mom stands off to the side, fighting laughter.
Bennett hisses under his breath to me, “Your dad takes his cookies very seriously, doesn’t he?”
Before I can respond, my dad pivots around to face us. “I heard that, and yes, I do take my cookies very seriously. Cookies are important. Cookies are happiness.”
Bennett presses his lips together, trying to contain his laughter. I can’t blame him. When my dad goes on one of his tangents, it’s pretty funny.
Dad claps his hands together. “Let’s get to work.”
The kitchen is large enough that each of our three groups has a separate work station. Mom, Dad, and Lincoln have the island, Dean and Willow have the area by the sink, and Bennett and I have the kitchen table.
“I hope you’re good at making cookies,” Bennett says, “because I haven’t got a fucking clue what I’m doing.” He looks around at the table. “Fuck, and there aren’t even any directions.”
I tap my head. “Right here, bud.”
He makes a face. “Of course they are.”
“Here,” I begin, grabbing a glass bowl. “You cream together the butter and sugar and I’ll handle the dry ingredients.”
“How do I mix them?” he asks.
I give him an incredulous look. “With the beaters.” I point. “It’s already plugged in, all you have to do is turn it on, but do not put it on the high setting,” I warn him.
“I think I can handle that.”
“You better be able to,” I mutter under my breath.