#Holiday: A Hashtag Series Short Story (Hashtag #6.5) (4 page)

I realized I didn’t really know about her traditions. Her childhood holiday memories. I wanted too, though. I wanted to know it all.

“Not hard,” she answered. “Bittersweet at times.”

“How?” I asked, wrapping my arms a little tighter around her waist.

“Christmas was always my mom’s favorite holiday. We always celebrated big, you know? Big tree, lots of decorations. Christmas music played in the house, presents under the tree. We made cookies the entire month of December. All different kinds. Kiss cookies, Rice Krispie treats, chocolate chip… But always on Christmas Eve, we made snickerdoodles. They were her favorite. They’re mine, too. She liked marshmallow crème in her hot chocolate, not regular marshmallows.”

“Now that sounds like some good shit,” I said, and my stomach growled.

She laughed lightly. “After she died…”

My arms tightened around her. Of course I knew her mother was gone. I knew the hows and the whys. I’d brushed away her tears because of it more than once. But it didn’t lessen the impact every time Rimmel said those words. It made me ache for her. I don’t know how a person dealt with the death of someone so close to them. It seemed like everywhere she looked, there would always be a reminder.

I asked her once what it was like—to grieve for a loved one who was no longer here.

Hard.

That’s what she’d said. She’d looked at me with those intensely soulful eyes and said, “Hard.” Maybe she couldn’t understand how she did it either. Though, later that night, she’d kind of retreated into her head and she’d told me a person just learns to live without the one they lost.

I prayed to God I never had to learn to live without the woman in my arms.

“We still celebrated the holiday, of course.” She went on, oblivious to my internal thoughts. “But it wasn’t like it had been. We didn’t decorate as much or eat as much candy. The hot chocolate got regular marshmallows even though when I would see the cream at the store, it made me smile. It was too hard for him.” She meant her father. “So we kind of celebrated in the least painful way possible.”

God. It sounded miserable.

“I do still make snickerdoodles every Christmas Eve,” she mused. Then her throat cleared. “Well, except for tonight of course.”

I didn’t like that. Not at all.

Oh, hells no.

“Why the hell not?” I demanded.

Her eyes shot up to mine, the memories of the past clearing in the depths. “Because we’re here? You had a game and we’re at the cabin…”

Again.
Oh, hells no.

“Fuck that,” I said and took her hand and towed her along beside me. Her legs weren’t as long as mine, so she trailed behind me. When she slipped again, I stopped and crouched low.

“Up you go,” I said.

“You’re kidding,” she intoned.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Romeo.”

“Rimmel.” I cautioned. “Do it.”

She climbed on my back, and I hooked my arms beneath her legs and adjusted her into a piggyback ride.

“Your shoulder,” she worried beside my ear as I started walking again.

I glanced sideways at her from the corner of my eye. “What about it?”

“I know it’s bothering you.”

“How’d you know that?” I asked curiously.

“I know you, Roman Anderson. I watch you. Even when you don’t see me, I do. You’ve basically become my hobby.”

I started to laugh.

“So I know when your shoulder is hurting and it’s hurting right now. That game was tough, and the wind…”

“My shoulder’s okay, baby. Nothing some ice and rest won’t fix. It’s just been a long night.”

“Put me down,” she demanded.

“No.”

She tried to kick me. I caught her foot and gave it a gentle squeeze. “How quickly you resort to violence.”

“You’re stupid,” she intoned grumpily. But then she totally negated the rudeness by kissing the side of my ear.

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I palmed the phone again. I held it up as we both stared at the glowing screen.

“Oh!” she cried right in my ear. “You have one bar now!”

“I’ll just use this other ear over here.” I gestured to the one she didn’t yell in. “To call ‘cause I’m pretty sure I’m not deaf in this one.”

She gasped. “I’m sorry!”

“You’re too easy, baby,” I murmured and dialed B.

The phone connected and rang and rang. When his voicemail came on, I swore and pulled the phone down to call him again.

“Maybe he’s busy.” Rimmel observed.

“He ain’t too busy to come haul us out of a ditch.” As the line started ringing again, I glanced off down the road. I could see the turnoff for another, busier road in the distance.

At least I knew if we couldn’t get anyone to answer their phone, I’d be able to jog down there and flag someone down. Or hell, I’d just leave the Cat there ‘til morning and call a cab. We had shit to do.

“Romeo?” Braeden said into my ear just as I was about to give up.

“Need you, B,” I said without any greeting. My toes were fucking cold, and standing out here had been fun, but Rimmel was gonna freeze. “In my attempt to get away from the fucking press, I ran the Cat into a snowbank. I’m stuck.” I told him where we were and asked him to bring Trent or Drew to help push me out.

“Be right there,” he spoke quickly, and I could hear him already moving around.

I pocketed the phone with a slight smile on my face. It was good to have family. Family who would haul their ass out into the cold on a holiday to dig you out.

I was a lucky man.

“He’ll be here soon,” I told Rim and turned back toward the car. “Let’s get you back in the heat.”

Her arms wrapped around my neck a little tighter (but not so tight to strangle me) and her chin came down to rest on my shoulder. I heard her soft sigh right against my ear. “I kinda like being stuck in the snow with you.”

“It’s not half bad.” I agreed.

“How long do you think until B gets here?”

I hit the remote start button on the key fob for my car to get the heat pumping again as I walked. “Not sure, why?”

Her lips brushed my ear when she whispered, “Ever have a Christmas Eve blow job?”

I groaned. “No.”

“Well, since you showed me how to catch snowflakes with my tongue, I think its only fair I show you what one is like…”

She licked my ear.

I damn near came in my pants right there.

I flung open the car door and flipped the seat up so we could climb in the back.

“Oh, baby,” I murmured, crawling in behind her and slamming the car door. “As horny as I am, this will be the fastest fucking suck of your life.”

Her tongue wet her lips and she reached for the waistband on my sweats. “I’m sure I can make it last long enough to be unforgettable.” Her small, capable hand delved beneath the fabric and wrapped around my already rock-hard cock.

I melted against the seat with a moan and let her have her way with me.

She kept to her word. Even though I didn’t last very long, she somehow drew it out just enough to brand it in the back of my mind forever.

Braeden

Warm light spilled from the windows of the rented log cabin as we pulled up. It was a big place, with two stories, five bedrooms, five bathroom, and three fireplaces. The home was built of large, brown wooden logs all stacked up together to create the traditional cabin-style retreat.

Glass windows filled the walls, granting access to the view of the wooded lot the home was perched on. The driveway was a large gravel patch. Right now it was packed with snow and rock because trying to clear gravel the way one would pavement was a losing battle.

There was a two-car garage attached, but it was locked and tenants weren’t given access. I figured the people who owned the place kept all their stuff in there for when they stayed. Probably was a lot easier than trying to haul all their shit back and forth every time they came.

I pulled up behind Trent’s Mustang. It was covered in salt from the roads. The Hellcat wasn’t here yet, but it would be soon. Drew’s Mustang was parked back at our place, as he rode up here with Trent.

We rented this place for a week. Everyone arrived the day before yesterday. Since Rome and I had a Christmas Eve home game and a couple extra practices before New Year’s, we decided to just work with the schedule instead of against it.

Renting a rustic cabin on snow-covered acres where our family could all chill for the holiday seemed like a pretty good idea anyway. Sure, our parents weren’t too happy with us taking Nova out of town on her first Christmas, but since I had to be here, so did my girls, and we all made promises to celebrate just as soon as we got home.

Snow was still falling steadily. The irregular flakes stood out against the night as I shut off the engine and pocketed the keys.

Nova was fussing, and Ivy was trying to calm her when I climbed out and rushed around the back to open the door. By the time I made it, Ivy had the baby in her arms, cuddled against her chest, with one of the thick blankets covering her body and most of her head. She was still fussing, but it wasn’t as prominent now because she was in her mother’s arms.

I reached in, gently helping Ivy slide across the backseat, and practically lifted them both out of the car, placing her carefully beside me. Once I had the empty baby seat and all the other crap that came with having a baby (seriously, babies needed like a shit ton of stuff) clutched in my one arm, we headed toward the front door.

Without thought, my palm settled against the small of Ivy’s back as we walked, and I kept an eye out for any patches of ice. The wooden front door was wide and had a huge pine wreath hanging in the center with a simple red bow. It swung inward, and Drew stepped out. In his hand was a bottle.

“What the hell took you so long to get here?” As he talked, his eyes swept over his sister and the baby as if he were making sure they were okay.

“The fans were waiting,” Ivy said, stepping up onto the porch.

Drew grunted and stepped back for us to enter. “That place was a madhouse tonight.”

“You guys got out okay?” I asked.

“We left a little early so we didn’t get stuck in the traffic.”

I nodded. I’d have done the same thing.

The door shut behind us, and Ivy shifted the baby so she was cradled in her arms and held her hand out for the bottle.

“Hells no.” Drew denied and pulled the bottle away. “You aren’t taking all the credit for this meal.”

Ivy rolled her eyes as Drew reached for Nova.

Four men in this house. All four of us were freaking suckers for her.

She was squirming and fussing when he pulled her close, but the second he brought the bottle to her lips, the only sound to be heard was her gently sucking and grunting in pleasure.

Drew smiled down. “Who’s the best uncle in the world?”

“Me,” Trent said, walking into the entryway. “That was a beast of a game, man.” He held his fist out for a pound. I obliged. “Props to you guys for pulling that shit off.”

“Barely,” I muttered.

The downstairs of the house was basically one great big room. There was a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace centered on the far wall, and the fire was already crackling, the roasting wood creating a distinct scent. There was a gigantic sectional sofa near the fireplace, covered in pillows with a lot of bear, moose, and plaid on them.

The rug was thick over the older wood floors, and the walls were a neutral shade. The day we got here, the girls insisted on a tree and then picked out some huge eight-foot monstrosity I thought was ridiculous.

But whatevs, whatever made them happy.

I had to admit it had been pretty entertaining decorating the thing with tinsel, fake snow (more of that shit got on the floor than the tree) and a bunch of multicolored ornaments. My favorite decoration was the one that hung right in the center. It was a glass baby’s first Christmas bulb with a big pink ribbon at the top.

Toward the back of the home was a huge kitchen with an island that could probably seat twenty people. The kitchen cabinets were cherry, and the granite counters were light. Even though the island was large enough for a small army, there was a large wooden dining table nearby that could seat eight.

All the décor in here was rustic and simple. Basically, it looked like a cabin to me. Hell, I didn’t care as long as there was heat and the place was secure.

The girls seemed to like it, though. Ivy declared it had Christmas spirit, whatever the fuck that meant.

Drew carried the baby over to the couch and pulled the bottle out of her mouth to put her up on his shoulder. It never ceased to amaze me how easily we all learned how to take care of her.

She fussed, wanting the bottle back, and Drew gave her a lecture about not being a pig.

“Hey, man,” I said. “You mind hanging with the critter a bit? I want some time with my girl.”

Ivy made a sound at the use of the nickname I’d given Nova before she was even born. I admit one of the reasons I still called her that was because it drove her crazy.

“Are you kidding?” Drew said as Trent dropped down beside him on the couch. “I was hoping you two would leave.”

“She needs a diaper change,” Ivy said.

“That’s what Trent’s for,” Drew quipped.

Trent rolled his eyes but nodded. “Go. We got this.”

Ivy put the diaper bag I’d brought in from the car on the large stone-topped coffee table, and Trent winked at her. “Only for you, Ivy, would I change a diaper.”

Ivy laughed, and I reminded myself that Trent wasn’t flirting with her. He was just being her family.

I grabbed Ivy around the waist and towed her back toward the stairs.

“If you need anything…” she hedged, watching the baby.

“We won’t,” Drew said, not even looking up from Nova. Trent was already leaning over him to stare at the baby, too.

“C’mon, Blondie,” I said gently. “She’ll be fine. We’re only going upstairs.”

I felt her hesitation, but I pulled her along anyway. Time alone wasn’t something we got very much these days, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized what a problem that was.

We were still newlyweds, and I fucking loved my daughter more than my own life, but I couldn’t allow Ivy and me to become just parents. We had to be husband and wife, too.

Our bedroom was a big square room with a big king-size bed with a wooden frame. There were matching wooden nightstands on each side and a large patterned rug on the floor. Near the door leading into the bathroom was a stone fireplace, a smaller version of the one downstairs. I had the wood and kindling already laid out, so I took a few moments to get it lit.

When I turned back, Ivy had taken off her hoodie, hat, and boots, leaving the clothes in a heap on a nearby leather club chair. She was left in a pair of black leggings, knee-high purple socks, and a long-sleeve white T-shirt.

I pulled off my jacket and long-sleeved T-shirt and dropped it on the floor. After I kicked off my shoes and unbuttoned the top of my jeans, I prowled across the room.

I could feel Ivy’s gaze. I knew she wanted me. I liked feeling her desire. I liked the way her eyes turned dark and just a little hungry. The way her tongue jetted out and wet her lower lip made me want to suck it into my mouth and never let go.

I stopped just shy of our bodies coming into contact. I bent, my lips hovering inches above hers, and held her blue gaze with mine.

I could take her right then. She’d open up for me. The longing and anticipation in her stare erupted a private war inside me.

Fuck, I wanted her.

I wanted her just as much as I had that first night on the beach. The night I practically attacked her with my desperation.

But I didn’t just want her now.

I loved her, too.

There wasn’t a single part of me that wasn’t wholly hers. Ivy was everything. She was the past I’d always run from, the future I desperately wanted. She was my present, my heart, and the sight my eyes craved most.

It was because of that I didn’t take her.

I would.

But first. First, I was going to get to the bottom of the feeling I got earlier in the car.

With no rush at all, I lowered my lips a fraction closer. Her eyes drifted shut and a small sigh parted her lips.

My heart skipped a beat. I held myself there for a few seconds, just reveling in the closeness.

Her eyes snapped open when I pulled back. Confusion made her forehead wrinkle. I took her hand with a light laugh.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

I led her the short distance into the bathroom where a huge claw-foot tub sat beside a large glass window overlooking the acreage. It was totally black out, but the falling snow looked sort of like a screensaver on a computer. The movement against the still backdrop was somehow soothing.

It also brought the outdoors in.

Ivy and I seemed to always be better in the outdoors.

I turned on the faucet and adjusted the handle until the tub was filling with very warm water. On the counter, there was a bottle of bubble bath Ivy had brought along but had yet to use. I snagged it up and dumped like half the bottle into the tub.

“That is way too much!” She gasped.

“Hush, woman,” I told her and set it aside. The light scent of whatever the bubbles created swirled around. There weren’t any candles in here, so I turned on the light in the water closet and pulled the door around and hit the switch for the bathroom.

The room plunged into shadows. The small amount of light filtering from the partially closed door was just enough to see, but not enough to disrupt the sight of the falling snow at the window.

“The baby,” Ivy whispered.

“She’s fine, sweetheart,” I murmured and stepped up to her. “It’s just you and me right now.” I kissed her forehead and then her temple. Her hand splayed out across my bare side, and I made short work of my jeans and boxers, kicking the fabric away.

She lifted her arms when I tugged at her shirt and then deftly unclasped her bra. I murmured something I didn’t hear when my eyes focused on her breasts.

They were perfect, slightly larger since she gave birth to Nova, and I’d learned more sensitive. Her nipples were tight, having puckered the instant I pulled away the bra. I filled my palms with their silky weight and squeezed gently.

Ivy moaned and her head fell back a little, her eyes closed. I rolled both nipples between my thumbs and fingers, gently pinching and pulling.

A shudder moved up her back, and I realized something.

“You’re so hungry,” I murmured, sinking a little low in my stance and hunching myself a little closer.

“What?” She lifted her head, her voice thick with desire.

“Ivy, baby, why didn’t you tell me you were so hungry for me?”

She looked away.

Even though I wanted to demand an answer, even though impatience slammed through me, those feelings were eclipsed by the sensation of her flesh in my palms. I’d never hurt her. I’d never be rough with her out of frustration or even out of greedy desire.

I didn’t acknowledge her silence. Instead, I continued to play with her breasts. The way her thighs pressed together and her hips rotated unperceptively told me how much she liked it.