by Toni Aleo
Books 4-6 Boxed set
On Thin Ice, Book 8
Coach's Challenge, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella
One-Timer, Book 9
Face Off, Book 10
First Shot At Love, A Baltimore Banners Short Story
Game Misconduct, Book 11
Fighting To Score, Book 12
Matching Penalties, Book 13
The York Bombers
Playing The Game, Book 1
Playing To Win, Book 2
Playing For Keeps, Book 3
Playing It Up, Book 4
Playing It Safe, Book 5
The York Bombers Boxed Set 1
Books 1-3
Playing For Love, Book 6
Playing His Part, Book 7
The Chesapeake Blades
Winning Hard, Book 1
Loving Hard, Book 2
Playing Hard, Book 3
Firehouse Fourteen
Once Burned, Book 1
Playing With Fire, Book 2
Breaking Protocol, Book 3
Into the Flames, Book 4
Second Alarm, Book 5
Feel The Burn, Book 6
Coming Soon
Stand Alone Titles:
Finding Dr. Right
Time To Heal
Dangerous Passion
Dangerous Heat
Illicit Affair
Coming Soon
About Lisa B. Kamps
Lisa B. Kamps is the author of the best-selling series The Baltimore Banners, featuring "…hard-hitting, heart-melting hockey players…" [USA Today], on and off the ice. Her Firehouse Fourteen series features hot and heroic firefighters who put more than their lives on the line and she's introduced a whole new team of hot hockey players who play hard and love even harder in her newest series, The York Bombers. The Chesapeake Blades--a romance series featuring women's hockey--recently launched with WINNING HARD.
Lisa currently lives in Maryland with her husband and two sons (who are mostly sorta-kinda out of the house), one very spoiled Border Collie, two cats with major attitude, several head of cattle, and entirely too many chickens to count. When she's not busy writing or chasing animals, she's cheering loudly for her favorite hockey team, the Washington Capitals--or going through withdrawal and waiting for October to roll back around!
Email | Website
Susan Scott Shelley - Holding On Tight
Buffalo Bedlam
For defenseman Vince Forsberg and his boyfriend Joseph Parelli, the pressure to make their first Christmas together perfect leads to a lot of chaos, holiday mishaps, and some unexpected results.
To my readers,
Happy Holidays from the Buffalo Bedlam.
Chapter One
"…and all I want for Christmas is you…"
Lyrics and melody floated in the air, mixing with laughter and conversations. Whistling along with the song, Joseph Parelli weaved his way through the crowded apartment, smiling and nodding at the throng of Buffalo Bedlam players and their significant others. Everyone had gone all out in their attire for the team's ugly sweater party, from garish sweaters with blinking lights to cable-knit eyesores with dancing reindeer.
The tacky blue and white surfing snowmen decorating his chest ensured that he fit right in. On the surface anyway. No amount of holiday silliness could squash the slight discomfort he still felt when thrust into situations with the full-on group of players, wives, and girlfriends. Although they were welcoming, he hadn't been around them enough to remember everyone's names, let alone forge many friendships.
Clutching his phone like the lifeline it was, he headed for the recently vacated area he'd spotted beside the Christmas tree. There, a large floor-to-ceiling window gave him a view of downtown Buffalo, and hopefully, the minute he needed to collect his bearings and regroup.
Strands of twinkling lights and holiday decorations brightened up windows on neighboring buildings. And, several stories down, a steady stream of traffic pulsed with the stoplights' alternating flashes of red, yellow, and green.
As much as he liked his newly adopted city, living by Lake Erie just wasn't the same as living by the Atlantic Ocean. And morning runs along Canalside weren't the same as morning runs along the beach. But Buffalo, New York had one thing that Asbury Park, New Jersey did not: Vince Forsberg. And for Vince, Joseph would do just about anything.
Including willingly giving up his home and a job he enjoyed. And moving away from his friends and family and everything familiar.
He'd expected things to get better once he found a job, met new people, and got settled into a new routine. But nearly three months post-move, job prospects weren't looking good. He peered at his phone screen and the latest dash of disappointment at the top of his inbox. Finding out he didn't get the bar manager job after he'd been so sure he had it in the bag stung pretty badly.
"There you are. Brought you a drink." Vince, wearing a matching sweater, came to a stop at his side. Blond hair tousled and blue eyes twinkling, the Buffalo Bedlam defenseman and love of his life carried two tumblers of Scotch. His smile faded as he studied Joseph's face. "You okay?"
"Absolutely." He quickly lowered his phone. "One hundred percent."
"Why don't I believe you?" Without waiting for a response, Vince set the drinks down and then nudged him toward the hallway and then into a guest bedroom where the party-goers had stored their coats.
Joseph craned his neck as he entered the blissfully quiet space. "What are you doing? Coat room or not, I don't think Celek wants people hanging out in here."
Vince closed the door, shutting out the noise. The lines of concern on his face deepened. "Talk to me. I can tell something's wrong."
"Are you a psychic now? That actually might explain why you're one of the league's best defensemen."
"Cute. But really, your poker face stinks." Vince gently hip checked him. "Besides, I like thinking I'm able to read you."
"So much for hiding it well." Sighing, he leaned into his boyfriend. No matter how many times his gaze rested upon Vince, the man still took his breath away. When Vince's arms came around him, Joseph relaxed into the comfort of his embrace. "I didn't get the job."
"The one you were so excited about? I'm sorry."
Joseph shrugged. "Yeah. Well."
Vince kissed his temple and then hugged him tighter. They were almost evenly matched in height and build, but the similarities ended there. "Something good will turn up."
"I hope so. It's been almost three months. I know that's not long compared to how long some people are unemployed, but I didn't think it would be this hard. I've applied for every nightclub manager, every bar manager position out there. I know I'm well qualified, this last place told me that I was too qualified. Hearing that is a little discouraging."
"You don't have to worry about how long it takes you. What's mine is yours." Vince's strong fingers flexed and rubbed over Joseph's back. He paid for the house, the groceries, and all of the bills. Joseph contributed what he could, but at best, it was a quarter of what Vince put in.
Restless, Joseph moved out of the embrace. "As generous as that is, I have to pull my own weight. The money coming in from renting out the shore house helps, but it's not enough to live on. Especially not in the off-season. Not many people are looking to spend a week at the Jersey shore during the winter."
"You know…" Vince's gaze dropped to the snowmen woven across Joseph's chest. "Maybe we should think about putting it up for sale."
"No."
"Why not? You don't need it to help supplement Nonna's expenses anymore." Vince had generously helped out there, taking over the monthly amount Joseph added to his grandmother's account to make sure that she wanted for nothing at her resort-like retirement community. With his multi-million dollar contract to play for the Bedlam, the supplement was like a droplet of water in the ocean.
"I know that." He turned toward the bed. Staring at the mattress piled high with coats was easier than looking Vince in the eyes. "B
ut it's semi-regular income. I can't let the house go. At least not until I find another job… And maybe not even then."
"But dealing with the renters stresses you out. Especially since you're dealing with them from four hundred miles away. I hate seeing you like that."
"It's fine." It wasn't, but he'd need to learn to handle it better.
"And you have to rely on Arron to drop off and collect the keys for you, and report back on the state of the house. Not to mention what happens if anything is damaged, and how you—"
"Stop." Frustration rose hot alongside his disappointment, burning through his blood and tightening his jaw. "I don't want to do this here."
Tension thickened the air as they stared at each other. The muffled laughter and music from the living room reminded him that they weren't alone, and that they'd been in the room far too long already.
Vince tucked his hands into his back pockets and gave a single dip of his head. "Fine."
Raking a hand through his hair, Joseph turned toward the door. "We should go."
His phone pinged, and the alert seemed as loud as a gunshot. Breath caught in his lungs, he stopped and glanced at the screen.
"What is it? Job news?" Vince's voice, strained yet tentative, came closer.
"Got an alert from the rental company." He lifted the phone so Vince could view the screen. "I have a guy who wants to rent the shore house for Christmas."
Vince didn't look thrilled. At all. Not with the slumped shoulders and stony expression. "That's less than a week away. Do you need to go back to Asbury Park to prep the house?"
"No." He shrugged away the renewed discomfort. No way did he want to start arguing about the rental again. "Everything was fine when I went back to visit Nonna at Thanksgiving, and Aaron has the keys. I know he checked on the house last week."
Voices echoed from the hall, and the door flung open. Slater Knox and Noah Alzado burst in, the teammates laughing and talking over each other. Slater grinned at them from beneath a silly elf's cap. "Hey. We were looking for you."
"Well, you found us." Joseph pocketed his phone and tried to find a smile for the pair. "What's up?"
"We need you to settle a debate between Leo and Rod."
Vince drew up next to Joseph, arms crossed over his chest, close but not close enough to touch. Yeah, he was ticked off. They always touched, a brush of fingers on the shoulder, a hand on the back. Always. "I know better than to side against the goalie. Tell Rod that whatever it is, he's right."
Slater gasped and held a hand to his chest in mock surprise. "And I thought Leo was your best friend."
"If the situation were reversed, Leo would do the same thing." The slight, tight smile stretching across Vince's chiseled features didn't reach his eyes. And he made no further movements toward the door.
Gaze darting between Vince and Joseph, Noah grabbed Slater's arm and tugged the redhead through the doorway. "Let's go, Knoxie. We'll pass along the message, guys. Sorry to interrupt you."
Slater glanced back, eyes narrowed and forehead creased, but before he could say anything further, Noah managed to pull the door closed behind them.
Vince huffed out a sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. "Slater's probably standing guard in the hallway now."
Picturing the redhead positioned like a no-nonsense bouncer nearly made him smile. "Yeah. We better go, so we're not blocking anyone's access to their coats or bags."
Not that they'd have any luck hiding their frustration with each other once they returned to the party. Vince was right, he didn't have a good poker face. Neither of them was good at hiding their feelings.
"Wait." Vince's hand curled over Joseph's shoulder. He shifted until they were face to face. "I don't want to fight with you. I hated that we had to miss Thanksgiving together. I don't want anything to ruin Christmas."
At the earnestness in Vince's expression, Joseph's anger and stress melted away. They'd gone through a lot to be together. He loved Vince with all his heart. In the face of that, nothing else seemed as important. "Me neither."
Vince stepped closer and eliminated the space between them. "We're lucky to have each other. I'm so glad you're here with me. Let's just focus on that."
"Deal." Smiling, Joseph cupped Vince's face in his hands and then leaned in and pressed their lips together. Soft yet firm, Vince's lips parted, allowing him in. Slowly, savoring, he deepened the kiss, reveling in the warmth that could quickly ratchet into sizzling heat. Vince's hands, large and capable, pulled him in tighter, like he could never get as close as he wanted.
The sounds from the living room grew louder, and Joseph reluctantly drew away. Clutching Vince's hand, he opened the door. "Let's go."
They rejoined the group and reclaimed their drinks. Joseph's phone buzzed in his pocket, but he resisted checking the notification. Tonight was for the team to be together and blow off some steam. No one needed to see tension and drama between Vince and him. He would quietly deal with the rental, at least until after the holidays.
He and Vince would have the perfect Christmas. He wouldn't let anything get in their way.
Chapter Two
The clouds were thick with the promise of snow. Vince kept glancing at them as he drove home from practice. The forecast didn't call for a white Christmas, but the holiday was two days away, so there was still time for it to change.
And with the last practice before Christmas behind him, he had three full days to relax. His body—still feeling the effects of the previous night's game—needed it. Rolling his shoulder to relieve the dull ache, he pulled into the driveway.
The house was dark, but Joseph's car was still in the same spot it had been when Vince had left that morning.
"Joe? Are you home?"
Silence greeted him.
The hall and living room held no sign of his dark-haired, dark-eyed better half.
Then he found the note on the kitchen table.
Went for a run. Back soon.
Joseph spent a lot of time running these days. The job search obviously weighed on him. Pounding out his frustration on the pavement was a healthy release, but Vince wished there was something more he could do to help. Joseph was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He would do anything to make him happy, and he loved the man more than words could say.
Maybe the rings he'd purchased could say it better.
He'd purchased them the day after Thanksgiving when he'd been alone and missing Joseph.
Tucked safely in the back of his sock drawer, they'd burned a hole in Vince's proverbial pocket as he waited for the perfect moment.
Maybe the perfect moment had arrived.
He leaned on the table, and his heartbeat picked up speed as the idea took hold. Being separated from Joseph on Thanksgiving had been tough because Joseph was the thing he was most thankful for in the whole world. But he'd understood. Joseph had needed to check on Nonna, and on the beach house, and Vince, thanks to playing hockey games the day before and the day after the holiday, couldn't go with him. So, Christmas together, their first holiday together, needed to be really special.
And if he proposed now, they'd have a few days to enjoy each other before schedules and obligations rolled back in.
Decision. Made.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins, spurring him to move. Thoughts racing, he paced through the house debating how to set the scene.
In front of the Christmas tree, definitely, with its gaily wrapped presents and twinkling lights.
And wine. The kind that Joseph preferred.
But first, he needed to change clothes. No way would he propose to the love of his life in athletic wear.
Not knowing when Joseph would return heightened his rush. He could have mere minutes or an hour. Hoping for the hour, he hustled to the bedroom and threw open the closet doors.
Discarding the full suits, he pulled out the white button-down Joseph liked and navy pants. Showering at the rink like he always did after practice saved him precious minutes now.
His fingers trembled as he dressed, and then again when he removed the rings from the drawer. Closing his fist tight around the silver bands, he held them to his heart.
This was happening.
Finally.
He couldn't wait to see Joseph's face.
The sound of a car rumbling past the house pulled him from his musing. He slipped the rings into his pocket and hurried to the first floor.
Blood still pumping fast and palms sweating, he set the wine on the fireplace mantel. Then turned on the tree lights. And some music, set low, with a sexy, throbbing beat.
Everything needed to be perfect. He moved to the doorway and surveyed the room with a critical eye.
The Christmas tree had a bare patch. How had he not noticed it before? They'd spent nearly an hour at the tree lot debating the merits of types and sizes and discarding trees that didn't fit. The nine-foot tall Fraser fir had seemed perfect at the time. He strode to the tree, scanning the ornaments, mapping out where he could move things. Rearranging ornaments didn't fix it. Couldn't fix it. Not when missing branches were the issue.
Unless…
Needles brushed along his shirt as he reached through the branches, navigating through ornaments and strands of lights. He grabbed hold of the trunk and lifted the tree. Ornaments rattled and jingled. This close, his nose itched from the strong scent of pine. He turned his face away from the branches poking his cheek, but they still blocked his field of vision. A step to the right, then another, and another, he shifted in a semicircle until he stood between the tree and the wall.
There.
The bare patch was safely hidden. But now, the Our first Christmas ornament that he and Joseph had picked out together at an art festival near Niagara Falls needed to be moved to the other side of the tree. The blown glass ball, with their names and the year etched in elegant script, was a one of a kind.