Page 50 of The Puck Bunny

And, most scary of all, how the heck do I explain being at dinner with him and his family to Delaney tomorrow?

Because—judging from the pops of cell phones around the room—I won’t be surprised if there isn’t a pic of us somewhere on social media by now. And Delany will have her minions ferret it out.

Except—lightbulb moment—Billie Mae and I are her new minions. So maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t have to find out…

“It’s a shame you have a game on Thanksgiving,” Quinn’s mom says. “But I don’t mind having Thanksgiving dinner the day after if you have it off.” She holds her breath, pleading with her eyes for Quinn to say the right thing.

I don’t know what else I’ve missed in this conversation, but I’ve regained use of my faculties in the nick of time and I nudge Quinn’s leg with mine. The contact sends all kinds of sparks running through me and I pray they don’t show.

He darts me a glance. Then winks.

“I do have that day off, Mom. I’m yours for a Day-After-Thanksgiving dinner.” He grins and his mom reaches her hand over to clasp his.

I glance at Chris and Jenny to see stony silence.

“That’s great,” Lenny says. “We can resurrect our traditional game of street hockey if you’re up for it.”

“You’re on.” Quinn fist-bumps with Lenny, and the boys bounce in their seats.

“Cool! Can we play, too?” Tyler grabs his brother’s arm to include him. Their eagerness and brotherliness warm me.

“Of course you can,” Quinn says, fist-bumping each of them.

“We’ll see,” Jenny says.

“Finish up, boys. It’s time to leave,” Chris says. He turns to his mother. “I’ll check the schedule to see if we can rearrange things.”

“Thank you, Chris.” She nods and I give a silent cheer for Natalie James. Yay!

The server removes our plates. The boys argue with their mom about going to the men’s room, and Quinn’s mom turns to me.

“I would like you to join us for our Day-After-Thanksgiving dinner, Sara. Will you?”

The sheer graciousness of her invitation, the natural and genuine warmth of it, makes it impossible to say anything else. “Yes. I’d love to.”

It’s not until I’m in an Uber on my way to home when the ludicrous enormous mistake of accepting that invitation comes to mind.

What the heck am I doing? I can’t have Thanksgiving dinner with Quinn’s family—without even telling him? What was I thinking? What am I still thinking as I run through my wardrobe options and make plans to bake a pie to bring with me?

No way is this cool to have a holiday dinner with a man’s family who I’m not even dating. Who I’m technically not even flirting with, let alone getting to know all his relatives as if we have an actual relationship.

Crap.

CHAPTER 16

QUINN

Fuck. I slam the hotel suite door behind me. I can’t believe Mom invited her to Thanksgiving without checking with me. Even more unbelievable, I can’t believe Sara accepted the invitation without checking with me.

I stride to the bedroom, tossing my jacket and tie onto the floor, followed by my shirt. My frustration has me pacing as I get to my boxers, not giving a damn about the expensive Italian suit and shirt strewn on the floor. I flop onto the king-sized bed and check my phone. It mocks me with the time—midnight.

Frustration gets me out of bed to pace. What the hell am I going to do about Sara?

Hell, I’ll just treat the Thanksgiving dinner like a date between Mom and Sara if that’s how they’re playing it. This absolutely doesn’t count as fulfilling my promise to Mom to bring the right girl home for Thanksgiving dinner. Absolutely not.

Lenny—the traitor—dropped me off first at the hotel so I didn’t have a chance to discuss my relationship—or lack thereof—with Sara with Mom. But we’ll definitely have a talk later. Exactly what I’ll tell her, I’m not sure. I push my hands through my hair.

Fuck. There is no relationship between us. Isn’t that the frustrating part? Maybe I should drive to Portsmouth in the morning to see Mom, but I’ve got a morning skate with the team and then I’m meeting with the realtor to finalize the paperwork for the house. Then the team bus leaves for our road trip.