Sugar Cookie Country House

Get ready for a heartwarming Christmas romance where he falls first in this sunshine and grump sports novel.

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Because sometimes love doesn’t follow the playbook…

When sunshiney Jenny wished for more adventure in her life, she never thought she’d be sent a grumpy hockey player.

But could Dylan’s gruff exterior be nothing more than an act? Did this hockey hunk secretly enjoy their spirited debates that upset their friends at Thanksgiving? (Oops.)

Of course, men like him don’t go for curvy, small town women… Or do they?

Dylan can’t help but be captivated by Jenny’s feisty, direct charm. The catch? Despite being benched for an injury that might end his career, he’s deep in trade talks that could send him across the continent.

But since meeting Jenny, the idea of a life off the ice isn’t nearly as unsettling. Then again, maybe his foot will heal, he’ll get the girl, stay with his team, and have it all. Either way, he needs to convince Jenny that all this big-shot wants this holiday season is her.

Note: This sweet hockey romance can be read as a standalone.

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SNEAK PEEK from Sugar Cookie Country House!

An hour ago, Jenny had arrived at Maverick’s for the post-Thanksgiving celebration—arranged as close to the holiday as the players’ schedules allowed—feeling wiped. It was Black Friday, the beginning of her multi-day sale, and her store had been chaos from opening to close. Tomorrow she’d have to go in early, reconcile her cash register’s receipts and refold an endless amount of clothing that had been pulled from stacks by eager customers, not to mention reorganize the racks of shirts and jeans that had once been meticulously sorted by size. But right now, all she wanted was to lock up, walk away and never come back.

Maybe she’d even march right out of Sweetheart Creek and the life that had become somewhat predictable and boring.

Except who would have predicted that she’d sit beside a hockey player at dinner, an NHLer who was cute, gruff, but also sweet and so down to earth it made her soul dance. She’d been thinking that a bit of travel might revive her and pull her out of the small town doldrums. After all, who wanted to see the rest of their lives unspooling in front of them in a straight line of repetition? But that was what her future was looking like…and it sure didn’t give her thrills of anticipation. She hadn’t ever expected to be sandwiched between two pro hockey players at Thanksgiving. And she especially hadn’t foreseen that one of them would flirt with her with a telltale twinkle in his eyes, as if they were sharing some secret joke.

She glanced toward her blond friend, Daisy-Mae, wondering if the woman was trying to set her up with Dylan. Sort of a ridiculous thought, to be honest. But Jenny had been set up enough times in her thirty-one years to do the math. Going around the table, it was clear she and Dylan were the odd ones out. She mentally noted the couples. There were Maverick and Daisy-Mae. Dak, the retired player to her left, was involved with the team’s owner, Miranda Fairchild. Then across from Jenny was her friend Violet, the team’s mascot, who obviously only had eyes for the former rodeo king and current NHL rookie, Leo. That left three obvious singles: Maverick’s mom, who was in charge of the meal, herself, and Dylan. Maybe she and Dylan were just here to fill all the seats at the table?

Because how could Daisy-Mae see anything working out relationship-wise between Jenny and a man who lived over an hour away and could get traded at pretty much at any time of the year? And anyway, Jenny must seem horribly small town and boring to a man like Dylan. Sure, she had a great life. Really great, actually, and with nothing to truly complain about. But she instinctively knew she wasn’t his type. She was not at all glamorous, a bit too curvy to be fashionable, and, according to her grandfather, too bossy for her own good. Probably because she’d become the self-appointed boss of him after he broke his hip two years ago.

Dylan gently elbowed Jenny, his arm softly bumping hers. He lifted his chin toward the platter of turkey, one of his mussy locks of sandy hair falling across his forehead.

“Say please,” she chided playfully.

His eyes locked on hers, gray and filled with secrets she longed to uncover. “Please.”

She suppressed an anticipatory shiver as his deep voice rumbled through her and passed the turkey, refusing to release it until he muttered what sounded like an amused ‘thank you.’

Carol, Maverick’s mom, turned to her. “Are you two dating?”

“Sure,” Jenny said lightly, “I’m his girlfriend.”

Dylan’s retort was quick. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

There was a seriousness in his tone that straightened her spine. She turned to face him better, aware the table had gone silent.

“I’d like to see you try,” she said evenly, squelching the thrill that was hammering at her mental restraint, trying to break it down.

She’d been love-bombed and charmed by Ranger Torrington a few years back and had learned her lesson—that sweet words weren’t always backed with true intent. She wasn’t about to be made a fool of again—especially by someone who lived along the edges of the limelight, and who could accidentally make that humiliation very, very public.

“I always need someone to be my plus one.”

Yeah, right. She could just see herself on his arm at fancy hockey events, such as next month’s black tie gala for the Dragons’ Charity for Sick Kids. She shook her head. Dylan was truly taking the flirting too far. The man probably had a virtual little black book thicker than the tattered old Yellow Pages her grandfather kept kicking around to use as a step stool in his clothes closet. As fun as the flirting was, it might be time to end this before things got out of hand and she started to think this was more real than it was.

“Are you asking me if I’m interested?” she asked carefully.

“I don’t know. Are you?” His gaze was serious, as if trying to gauge her interest.

“Do you make the woman foot the bill?”

He looked offended, his shoulders going back against his chair.

“How about holding doors? Would you do that?” Jenny narrowed her eyes, eager to see if Dylan would pick up on the fact that she was not looking for an old-fashioned boyfriend. She was thirty-one and used to doing things on her own.

“Depends,” Dylan replied slowly. “Do you like that? Or do you find it annoying?”

“Annoying,” she admitted, sitting back in her chair, watching him, curious as to why he seemed so serious about feeling out her potential as a future date.

Could it be that he was genuinely interested, despite how her friend had obviously thrown them together?

“Good. Then I won’t.” His gray eyes softened. “Unless you’re wearing an impossible dress and need help to get out of the car.” His gaze lingered on her curves.

She scoffed, feeling suddenly warm. “Do I look like I wear impossible dresses?” She’d practically been born wearing jeans.

“You own a clothing store. You might.”

“And you drive a car?” she asked. “Not a truck?”

“I do. Problem with that?” She could feel him mentally crossing his arms. He seemed to be loving her pushback as much as she was enjoying dishing it out.

“I don’t know. Do you have a problem with the fact that I drive a truck?” She batted her lashes at him and she saw the flicker of a hidden grin play at the edges of his mouth.

“Not at all. My masculinity is safe and sound.”

Her eyes drifted to his wide, strong shoulders, the flatness of his chest, the bulge of his biceps under his crisp shirt. Yes, he had masculinity locked up all right.

Her voice was embarrassingly breathy as she murmured, “Good to hear.”

He leaned an elbow on the table, shifting so his body was square to her. He dropped his voice low as though trying to act seductive, but she saw it for what it was—his own test—as he asked, “Do you go ga-ga for hockey stars?”

Instinctively, she knew he wouldn’t like that, to be treated differently because of his profession. The fame, from what she’d noted tonight, hadn’t gotten to him. She’d met the odd NHLer such as Mullens, the team’s popular forward, who seemed a bit full of himself in a strangely charming way, but otherwise, most of the other players were surprisingly real. So real that the hockey millionaires spent most of their rare days off here, in Maverick’s eighty-year-old farmhouse, helping him renovate its wiring, plumbing and who knew what else.

In the split second she considered how to answer, Leo made a lame joke about Dylan’s injury and how he was hardly a player, let alone a star. Dylan ignored the man, keeping his focus on Jenny, a muscle in his jaw flexing. She had a fleeting curiosity about what a broken foot might mean to his career.

But back to his question. No, she’d never go ga-ga. It wasn’t her style. But if she did end up going somewhere as his plus-one, would she be cool with the attention he’d draw? Would she act crazy and embarrass him? Or would she keep calm and help him, the way Daisy-Mae was helping Maverick transform his tarnished image? She understood that being a hockey star put you in the public eye, and that the results were not always positive. But what would it truly be like in Dylan’s shoes or in the shoes beside him?

She gave a shrug, deciding to be bluntly honest. “I could take a star or leave him.” She propped an elbow on the table, echoing Dylan’s posture, her tone sweet. “Do you have a problem with a woman owning her own business, and sometimes being too busy to fawn all over your stardom?”

“Sometimes.” Dylan’s smile was quick and sincere.

Well, there was her answer. He might seem down to earth, but he wanted a fangirl for a girlfriend. Yuck.

Jenny sat back, thanking Carol for the meal, knowing that even though Maverick was technically their host, his mom had been the one to make it all happen.

“I like having my girlfriend around,” Dylan grumbled to her, his tone frustrated as though he’d figured out she hadn’t liked his answer. “What’s the point of a relationship if you don’t want to spend time with the woman you’ve chosen? It’s not about stardom. It’s about time.”

He tapped the table with a hand to emphasize his next words. “Making time.”

Jenny eyed him, noting his earnestness and need to be understood. She’d assumed his off-putting confession had come from a place of ego, but maybe it had actually come from somewhere sweet. She appreciated how genuine and honest he was about what he wanted in a relationship, even if his way of expressing it had been a bit awkward.

Everyone at the table shifted with discomfort, as though they’d witnessed a couple fighting. But Jenny understood Dylan and where he was coming from.

“You own a store,” he went on, his tone slightly more gruff, a hint of a Dutch accent appearing. “I’m sure you get it. You have busy times just like I do. But if you love someone and they’re important to you, you find the time. You always find the time.”

She let his sentiments sink in, thinking about her grandfather, the reason she hadn’t sold her store and flown off to explore and discover adventure. Years ago, he’d fallen while getting out of his armchair after his leg had gone to sleep. Out of reach of the phone, he’d lain on the floor in pain with his broken hip for almost a full day before she’d stopped by and found him.

With the lease on the place she’d been renting about to expire, Jenny had moved in with him, helping him with his rehab and daily living. He was better now, but with no other family regularly in town, she’d stayed on because he was important to her. And even with running her store, she found the time to be with him, to bring him lunch in the middle of her day, to drive him out to one of her brother’s places outside the city of San Antonio so he could spend this long weekend with them while she worked.

She turned to Dylan, feeling his words in her heart. “You’re right. It is important. Really important.”

But unfortunately, even though she was open to the idea of falling in love with an exciting man like Dylan, she just couldn’t see how their two lives would ever mesh in a way that would give them that expanse of time together that they both seemed to crave.

End of sneak peek!