“Okay, for a start, no self-respecting Canadian would have this tree in their house.”
God, I love how he says that word. House. Gah! It’s like an ovary explosion. I swear I could hear him talk all night. I could just lie here and listen to his beautiful Canadian weirdness.
“Okay, come on. Get up.”
“What?” No. No, no, no. I don’t wanna get up. I want to stay right here forever. “Why?”
“Because we’re getting you a damn tree.”
“I have a tree,” I say, and pull the blankets up again, snuggling farther into his warmth.
“You have a sparkly bit of plastic. That is not a tree.”
“And where exactly do you think you’re going to get a tree on Christmas Eve?”
“Oh, I’ll find a damn tree, even if I have to chop it down myself.”
I lift my head and smile wistfully at him. “I’ve never had a real tree.”
“What?”
“We never had the money for one, not until I signed a record deal, and even then, we lived in hotels and on tour buses and there just wasn’t room for a tree. After my momma died it’s only ever been Lana and I on Christmas.”
“You don’t have any other relatives?”
“Oh sure, I have four half-brothers and sisters from a deadbeat dad whom I’ve never met, but no, I’m it.” It’s not like this is something new for me, but tears spring up in my eyes, and I blink rapidly and rest my head on his chest so he won’t see. This time of year has always been difficult for me. I love the music, the lights, giving presents, and seeing all of Nashville lit up with Christmas cheer, but I still never can shake the loneliness.
Van’s fingers stop moving against my back and he whispers, “Country?”
I don’t want to answer because he’ll know that I’m crying. And it’s ridiculous, really. This is the first year I’m not alone. I should be cartwheeling around the room right now.
“Baby, look at me.”
“I don’t want to.” My voice is a choked, terrible thing, and I’m two seconds away from losing it. He tucks his finger beneath my chin and gently tilts my head up to look at him.
“You got me now. And Emmett, and my crazy mother. I know you’re used to being alone, but you don’t have to be anymore.” He smiles and brushes the tears from my cheeks. “Now come on. We don’t have to get rid of your sad little tree, but we’re buying another to keep it company.”
Four hours later I’m admiring my new tree, alongside my “sad little one” while Van pops some corn on my stove. He had to have the biggest one on the lot, and he haggled the man down only to tip him two hundred dollars anyway. He then drove us to Walmart where he proceeded to just throw everything that was left in the decoration aisles in the buggy. It took us an hour to decorate the damn thing, and it wasn’t even covered halfway. He lifted me up to place the star on the top, and didn’t bother setting me down on my feet, but pushed me up against the wall, tore off my clothes, and buried himself inside me.
“Hey, popcorn’s ready,” Van says, carrying a bowl filled to the brim with fluffy white goodness.
“Great.”
“What are you doing?”
I grin. “Lookin’ at my new tree.”
“Oh yeah? You like it?”
“I love it. I love you.” The smile slips from my face, and I chew my bottom lip. I can’t believe I just said that. I wait for him to freak out, but he just laughs and sets the popcorn down on the table.
“I know.”
I blink several times. “What do you mean, you know?”
“Stella, baby, I know.” He wraps his arms around me from behind and squeezes me tightly. “Everyone but you knew.”
“They did?”
“Of course,” he adds with a smirk. “It’d be impossible not to fall in love with me.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m betting I could fall out of love just as easily if you kept saying shit like that.”
He picks me up, and I shriek as he deposits us on the fluffy couch. I sink into his warmth, and Van pulls the bowl of popcorn closer and rests it in my lap. He turns on the TV and a Country Christmas special that I filmed right after the CMAs is on. I never watch these specials back unless Lana forces me to, but when my face flashes up on my huge flat-screen, Van squeezes me tightly.
“There’s my girl.”
I lie back against his big body and sing along to the TV version of Stella Hart singing “I’ll be Home for Christmas,” and decide I finally got something right. I am home for Christmas. I’m right where I need to be, in Van Ross’s arms.
I’m mauling Stella. I know this. I’m aware of the glares I’m getting from the ballbuster, and I don’t give a shit. She can stare all she damn well wants. I wrap my arms tight around country’s waist and “help” her set the table. This basically just means clinging to her tight body like a sloth and covering her face and neck with kisses every chance I get.
A buzzer rings, and Eli’s face shoots up on the screen. “Oh my god! He’s here,” Stella says.
Ballbuster pours herself a third glass of wine, finishing the bottle off. She lets out a deep sigh and says, “Oh goody.”
She hadn’t been happy when she’d shown up at the crack of dawn Christmas morning to celebrate her and Stella’s annual “single girl Christmas,” and I’d been the one to greet her. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who is ever happy though, so I don’t really give a shit if she was pleased to see me or not. I am here for my snuggle bunny. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.
“Be nice,” Stella warns as she walks by, and I grab her and pull her back toward me.
“Hey, you weren’t this excited when I showed up on your doorstep.”
“Yes, I was. I was just internalizing so you wouldn’t have my number.” She laughs. “Now let me go. It’s rude to keep guests waiting.”
“Eli isn’t guests, more like a stray dog you let in because you feel sorry for him.”
The holidays are kind of a fucked-up event in hockey. You never really know where you’re going to be. Some years I’m in Calgary at my mom’s after playing a home game, others, I’m in the United States. Sometimes my family fly out, but Em doesn’t like stepping too far out of his comfort zone, so more often than not, it’s just me and my teammates. The ones who choose to stay rather than go home to their families, at least.
“You be nice, too,” Stella says. “This is my first time hosting a real Christmas, and I want it to be memorable.”
“Oh, it’s bound to be memorable,” the ballbuster says and takes another sip of her wine.
Stella pulls away from me and I roll my eyes at the angry wench leaning up against the breakfast bar who’s guzzling glass after glass of Pinot Gris. Not wanting to be left alone with her, I follow Stella to the door. She pulls it back to reveal Eli, Torres, Rookie, and a fucking puck bunny. Veronica at least has the good grace to look a little sheepish when her eyes meet mine. I clench my jaw so tight I don’t know how my teeth don’t shatter—especially considering half of them are fake.
“Merry Christmas,” Stella says.
“Merry Christmas,” they all mutter, except for Eli, who holds out two bottles of wine and one huge bottle of whiskey. I yank the hard liquor from his hand, screw off the cap, and take a huge gulp. When I glance back at Stella, she’s frowning at me.
“Stella,” Eli says, handing her the wine and pulling her in for a kiss. On her fucking lips. This asshole is really pushing my buttons today. She pulls back with wide eyes and presses her hand to her lips. Eli continues as if he didn’t just molest my girlfriend, “Nice to see you haven’t broken our man, Van, though if I were you I would have cut off his balls as a keepsake before sending him on his way. I hope you don’t mind that I brought some friends.”
“No. The more the merrier, right?”
“Get your fucking hands off my girl.” I sneer at my soon-to-be-ex best friend.
He releases her with a smirk and turns to my teammates, and Veronica. “Stell
a, this is Torres, Rookie, and Ronnie.”
One look at Stella’s face and I can tell she’s trying to figure out how Ronnie fits into this equation, but she’s as sweet as ever and welcomes the whore into her home without any obvious judgement. “Welcome, come in. Make yourselves at home.”
The three of them file in and follow Stella down the hall. I yank Eli toward me before he can take another step. “You brought a fucking puck bunny to Christmas at my girlfriend’s house.”
He shrugs. “She was alone.”
“Oh, well, that changes everything. It’s her damn fault she’s alone; she followed the team here to have sex with them on Christmas.”
Eli raises a brow. “What’s your problem with her?”
“What’s my problem? No problem, only that she’s one of the bunnies who screwed shit up for me by talking on live radio.” I rub the back of my neck and lower my voice. “And she had her lips wrapped around my cock two months ago.”
“What? I thought you were pining for Stella since October?”
“Yeah. Remember that time that Stella pretended she didn’t love me and I threw a fucking party at my house to celebrate my misery? Veronica broke into my fucking room and attacked me.”
“So? You and Stella weren’t together then.”
“Jesus, numb nuts.” I pinch the bridge of my nose to stave off the fucking headache this conversation is producing. “You really think Stella’s going to care about that once Veronica opens her fat trap?”
“Well then, I’d suggest you don’t leave the two of them alone for long,” Eli says, and nods in their direction.
“Shit.” I walk toward Stella and wrap my arm around her, leading her away from Veronica and into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t know he’d be bringing friends.”
“That’s okay. I’ve always loved the idea of big Christmases,” she says brightly, though the way she watches Veronica as the other woman touches her stuff says it’s anything but okay. Stella looks like she wants to snatch the Grammy out of Ronnie’s hand.
I glance at my teammates. Torres has his feet up on the coffee table, and Rookie makes himself at home on the sectional, patting his lap when Veronica turns to look at him. She scurries over and takes a seat. On top of him. Jesus, fuck. I’m going to kill Eli.
“Lunch will be ready soon, folks, but can I get anyone a drink?”
“Beer,” Torres says.
“Same,” Rookie says. I shoot them both a look that says I’m going to rip their fucking balls off for talking to my woman like she’s a goddamn beer wench.
“Please?” Torres corrects, and Rookie grimaces.
“Yeah,” Rookie says quickly. “A beer would be delightful. Please.”
“Delightful?” Torres laughs. “Jesus, who are you? Mary fuckin’ Poppins?”
“Dude, I panicked. Ross is over there looking at me like he’s gonna tear me a new one.”
“Oh, he’s gonna tear you something,” I say, shooting the kid a menacing look.
“Van, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” I say to Stella. “Torres, get your fuckin’ feet off the coffee table.”
“Sorry, boss.” He places his feet on the floor, and nods to Stella. “Ma’am.”
“Why don’t we all move into the dining room?” Stella says, and I indicate that she should go on ahead. When both her and the ballbuster, who’s been awfully quiet this whole time, leave the room, I grab Eli by the shirt and slam him up against the wall. “You’re gonna fuck this whole thing up for me, aren’t you?”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m not responsible for them.”
“No, but you’re the asshole who brought them here, to my girlfriend’s house on Christmas.”
He chuckles. “You said girlfriend. Again.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“Alright, Ross, calm your tits,” Torres says. “We’ll all be on our best behavior, right, Rookie?”
“Right.”
“It’s not you three I’m worried about.” I glare at Veronica.
“What? Ronnie? Nah, she’s harmless.” Torres wraps his arm around her shoulder and squeezes. “Aren’t you babe?”
“Van, I didn’t know it was serious between the two of you, otherwise—”
“Just keep your mouth shut, and the rest of you behave.” I sigh and shake my head. “I love this girl, and I just got her back. I don’t want anything to fuck this up.” I look primarily at Veronica here, and her cheeks flame.
“You know, we’re not all home-wrecking monsters. Some of us understand the concept of love, Van. Some of us even want to be treated the way you treat Stella,” she says.
“Then maybe some of us shouldn’t fuck the entire team and talk to the press about it,” I snap. Her face falls, and she walks away, toward the doors that lead to the deck. I feel like an asshole.
“Ronnie, come on,” I say, but Eli claps me on the shoulder.
“I got it,” Eli says, and Rookie, Torres and I head into the dining room.
From the look on Stella’s face, I’m betting she heard every word of that anyway. “Country, can I talk to you?”
“Sure,” she says tightly. “Lana, you’re okay here, right?”
“Are you referring to leaving me alone with three hockey players and a hockey hooker? Because why would I have a problem with that?” ballbuster deadpans.
“We’ll be right back,” Stella says, and I go to take her hand but she yanks it away out of my grasp. Okay then. She’s pissed. Not that I really blame her, but still.
She leads us toward the back deck, but Eli is holding Veronica close out there and that’s not a discussion I want to walk in on so I steer her toward another room.
“That’s a closet,” Stella says.
“Oh.”
She sighs and takes my hand, leading me down a hall. “Come on.”
Stella opens a door on a music room, with egg foam lining the walls, a huge board with various knobs and buttons, and a small closed-in booth in the corner.
“This is where you record?”
“No. This is where I come to record the stuff I have to get out in the middle of the night. This tiny studio is only capable of so much.”
“Huh. Who knew?”
One look at her expression and it’s obvious that Stella isn’t as fascinated by this room as I am. “Van, who’s that girl?”
“She’s a puck bunny.”
Her face shuts down but she doesn’t look surprised. “And what exactly is she doing in my house on Christmas?”
“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t know he was going to bring anyone, least of all her.”
She exhales loudly. “And who is she to you, exactly?”
“She’s no one.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“Yes,” I say, resigned. “It was a long time ago; I was drunk. I’d just scored my first ever hat trick and—”
“And a woman who slept with you is now in my house, preparing to have Christmas lunch with us.”
“Stella, that’s . . . not all.”
“What? Did you get her pregnant?”
“No. Jesus. No, okay, just listen. Promise you won’t get mad.”
“That’s usually what you say to someone when they’re going to do just that,” she snaps, folding her arms across her chest. “Really fucking mad, Van.”
“Two months ago, I had a party.”
“I thought you didn’t have parties.”
“I was hurting bad, baby. I’d had a fight with my Coach, I wasn’t allowed on the ice, and the only woman I’d ever cared about threw me out like trash. I threw a party, and Veronica was there.”
“No.” Stella shakes her head. “I don’t think I want to hear any more.”
“Nothing happened. Well, it sort of happened, but it didn’t. She broke into my room and was waiting for me while I was in the shower. She tried to . . .” I pause. I don’t want to tell her this. Fuck, I’d give my left nut not to have to say th
is, but I gotta come clean, because I love this woman, and I can’t have any more secrets between us. “I pushed her away, but not before she wrapped her lips around my cock.”
“You pushed her away?” Tears are spilling over her cheeks now. “Did you come in her mouth, first?”
“No. Country, it was two seconds. I swear to you, you can ask her. I shoved her off me, gathered up her clothes, and threw her out. I threw everyone out.”
“She was naked?” She closes her eyes. “If she hadn’t shown up today, would you have told me?”
“I don’t . . . know. There’s nothing to tell. She wanted me, I wanted you, so I turned her away. I was miserable. You’d just pushed me away, and—”
“So, this is my fault?”
“No, Stella, come on. I’m fucking crazy about you. You think I want to tell you this? You think I want her to be here? If I could take away that look on your face, I would. But I don’t want us to have any secrets. I already went two months without you. I’m fucking crazy about you. I’ve never said that to anyone, I’ve never wanted to, but the second you crashed your damn SUV into my mountain I fell head over heels in love.”
“Oh god, I want to hate you so much right now, but I can’t.” She sobs. “I pushed you away. That was my fault.”
“No, baby. I never should have thrown that stupid party. I just . . . I didn’t want any secrets between us. I’ll go ask everyone to leave.”
“No! You can’t throw people out on Christmas. This is my first year hosting, and everyone is going to sit down and damn well enjoy it.”
I laugh and cup her face, kissing away her tears. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”
“I’m sorry I pushed you away and made you throw a party where some hockey hooker broke into your room and tried to suck you off.”
I chuckle. “Sounds like a smash-hit song.”
“Oh, I’ve got fodder for years since I met you. I’ll never be blocked again.”
“I am sorry,” I say sincerely.
“It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. I mean, it hurts like a bitch, and I may kill Eli for bringing her here . . .”
“You and me both, but he didn’t know. I never said a word to anyone, and it’ll never happen again. I promise you that.”
Puck Love Page 22