Hot for the Holidays (21 Holiday Short Stories): A Collection of Naughty and Nice Holiday Romances

by Anthology

  "Holy shit!" Mia said when she saw the whiteout conditions beyond her house.

  "Mama said a bad word, Daddy," Pierce pointed out. New Year’s resolution—no more swearing.

  Mia crossed the room to stand by her husband’s side. Glancing up at his strong profile, he turned his head to regard her.

  "That's a lot of snow," she observed.

  "Yeah, at least a foot I think."

  She slid her arm under his and snuggled up to his side. "They can't leave in this, Ethan."

  "They’ll stay," he said, his words confident.

  "They’re stubborn," she countered.

  "Don't worry, okay?" he pleaded, taking her face between his two large hands. His tendency to worry about her plus her being pregnant equaled the epitome of a helicopter husband. It meant that they were together a lot, and after everything that had nearly destroyed their marriage and their family in recent months, Mia relished the attention. Though she still didn't like to worry him, so she did as he asked … or at least tried. Because right now her not worrying wasn't going to happen. She'd be an absolute mess if anyone tried to leave tonight.

  "You all are staying," Mia announced, internally preparing to fight if necessary, strap them down even, as she headed back to her plate of food.

  "Cool," Marty replied. One down, four to go.

  "Dibs on our room," Luke added. Even though he and Allie lived only a mile away, they had their own bedroom here.

  "Mia," Clark said.

  She shook her head at him, dismissing his be-reasonable tone, then Todd added his own version. "Baby girl …"

  "No—don't you ‘baby girl’ me. You're staying," she said, doing her best to be bossy, glaring at both men.

  Clark glanced around the room until his eyes landed on Bree, and then quickly back to Mia. "I have to go."

  Whoa! What was that all about?

  Whipping her head to Ethan, her wide eyes implored him to do something. Taking a few steps to her, her husband cleared his throat, quickly looking away from her. "Please stay everyone … she's gonna flip out if any of you leave in this and then she'll go into labor … you don't want to be responsible for that, do you?"

  "Uh … thank you?" she said to her husband. "Guys, please. He's right, well, except for the labor stuff. I'll just worry about you guys. We’ve got plenty of room, plenty of food. Going out in this is just crazy and completely unnecessary. Stay," she pleaded, her gaze darting between the men of her rhythm section. "Please because I don't want to even entertain the thought of losing you two."

  "You're guilting us?" Todd asked.

  "I …" Mia started.

  "She's damn good at it. Fine. I'll stay," Clark added, grabbing a piece of chicken from her plate and taking a big bite. What the hell was with everyone taking her chicken? Though she really wasn't mad, as long as he was staying, but still.

  "Please," she asked, stepping closer to Todd.

  "Baby girl," he said softly that only she could hear.

  "Stay. Don't risk it."

  "It's just snow—"

  "And the roads are full of idiots. Stay and I'll make your favorite cookies …"

  "Why didn't you just lead with that? I'll do anything for those cookies," he said with a wink.

  "Thank you," she mouthed, so thankful that no one was leaving. Todd wrapped an arm around her and squeezed.

  "Sorry. I wasn't really thinking."

  "It’s because you need food," she said, pulling him further into the kitchen. Once he was settled with a plate, she called everyone else from the keeping room. "C’mon and eat while I get stuff for the cookies."

  "Do you really need to make cookies?" Ethan asked as she rummaged around in the pantry. She knew she was probably being unreasonable, but if they kept Todd from leaving in this weather, then yes, she needed to make those cookies.

  "I said I would," she replied, finally finding the candy pieces, hoping that would settle it.

  With a sigh, he took the bag of candy from her. "Okay. Need help?"

  Mia turned to her husband and saw his handsome face that did nothing to hide his worry. He thought she was pushing herself, she could read it all over his creased forehead. Maybe she was … and maybe she shouldn’t be.

  "Yes," she said and watched his eyes widen in surprise.

  "My help?"

  "Yes. Your help."

  Ethan pulled her into his arms, her big belly in the way. If she wanted to rest her head on his chest, she needed to turn to her side.

  "Thank you," he said as he kissed the top of her head. "Order me around."

  "Oooh … that could be fun," she teased, letting innuendo sneak into every syllable. Her sexual hunger for this man had been insatiable, even deep into her third trimester.

  He laughed at that. "Tonight I'll do whatever you want."

  "Promise?"

  "Yes, suga."

  Those two words just made her night one hundred percent better.

  Chapter Two

  Todd

  Smiling after Mia, her hands sunken into her giant mixing bowl, he took a quick glance around the room and noticed everyone’s attention was on Mia. Todd backed out of the room and headed down to the studio, but suddenly changed his destination and made his way towards Ethan’s awesome bar area in the basement, needing a minute to clear the buzzing that had cropped up in his brain.

  He sat down in one of the leather booths and stared out into nowhere, his mind deciding now was the time to second-guess the call he needed to make. One that he would’ve preferred to be alone for. This was as good as it’d get tonight. Lifting his one hip, he pulled his phone from his back pocket and rested it precisely on the table, the bottom of the phone perfectly parallel to the edge of the table. Then placed his hands on his thighs and stared at the phone until his vision got blurry. His state of mind lately hadn’t been the best. He was stuck. Stuck in the past. About what should have happened. What could have been. The life he could have had with Maddy.

  Every single year since her death, those feelings of loss overpowered him. Reminded him that he’d never have the life he envisioned with Maddy because she was gone.

  His heart ached for that life. And when his heart ached as badly as it did today, he needed an outlet. In the past, that outlet was drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.

  For years it was like that. Ever since the day of Maddy’s funeral. He’d run as far away as he could from the pain, yet at the same time had no choice but to keep a reminder of her in Marty—her brother, Todd’s lifeline and his best friend.

  Todd grew up with both of them. Their parents had been the best of friends from their days at college. Todd didn’t know life without the Lockes. Always had Marty in his life and by his side. Then when Maddy was born, she took up the other side, her little hand tucked safely into his. She may have had an older brother in Marty, but Todd also took it upon himself to be her protector from day one.

  That innate need to take care of her eventually led them to each other as lovers. Then one night, during a heated argument, she walked away from him … and he lost her.

  Then he almost lost Mia too because of the way they both chose to escape, fueling each other’s numbing vices. He still took responsibility for her overdose, which had sent him into a tailspin. Seeing her body on his sofa … the panic in her eyes, the convulsions, the fear that he’d actually killed her … he’d known it had been too much and that they were playing with death. Every time. But instead of protecting her, he took her down with him. He hadn’t been thinking. He just didn’t want her sad anymore. After that night, he made himself a pledge—protect Mia. It had taken him awhile to get to that point, to get to a place where that was even possible. He spent months in rehab, then had set out on a road trip of America, hoping all those miles would lead to finding himself.

  It didn’t work.

  For over a year, he explored the country. Sometimes, he just drove, music loud as he let his mind go. Other times, he played tourist. He saw pretty much all of the natural wonders
of America and the many under-the-radar attractions along the way. He’d seen beauty, and he’d seen things that made him think "What the actual fuck?"

  None of this made a difference in his quest and on a bitterly cold day in December, he found himself at his family’s lake house in Traverse City, winter definitely closing in, which was perfect because it gave him the solitude he wanted. And that’s what he thought he had, until he heard the sorrowful music in the neighboring house. Despair. Loneliness hung on those notes that carried on the wind. A loneliness that resonated with his soul. The music hypnotized him and Todd found himself sitting alone in the side garden, day after day, listening to the sorrowful music, feeling it do things to his perspective that a whole year on the road had been unable to do. One day, it abruptly stopped mid-song, followed by the loud crack of wood splintering and a heart-piercing wail full of so much pain.

  The pain in that wail had him hurrying to the other house. He skidded to a halt when he saw a frail woman on her knees, her head completely bare of hair, sobbing up at the sky, screaming, "I don’t want to go!"

  Todd didn’t know what was wrong with her but she was clearly in pain, both physical and emotional. "Hello," he had called out. "Is everything all right?"

  She turned to him then and through the gauntness, he could still see how beautiful she once had been. Her mouth opened, he assumed to speak, but then her body started to seize and he was on the phone with 911. Not knowing how it had even happened, he was in the ambulance with her on the way to the hospital. He didn’t know her name or who she was, just that she was his neighbor. He didn’t know if she had anyone, and clearly, she needed someone right then. So he stayed in the waiting room, needing to know that she’d be all right.

  Todd hadn’t been there for Maddy, he’d run when Mia overdosed, but he could be here for this stranger.

  He didn’t know it then, but walking into her hospital room would change his life. The woman offered him a sad smile and her name—Liliana Everleigh—and proceeded to tell him her story, her regrets, like it was her last confession. Listening in silence, Todd only spoke when she had asked him to call her sister, Tristan.

  "You have a sister?" he had croaked, thankful Liliana had someone.

  "Yes, her name is Tristan," she had answered quietly and then told him what had happened between them and after she finished her story, she had asked him to call her.

  "Hi. This is Tristan. Please leave a message. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can."

  Voicemail.

  Liliana urged him to leave a message and he did. His first message to Tristan.

  And while they hoped for Tristan’s arrival, Todd sat by Liliana’s side as she drifted in and out of consciousness, holding out for her sister.

  Liliana died later that night.

  Fifteen minutes before Tristan arrived.

  And when he saw that she had arrived, saw the nurse consoling her as she sobbed, he quietly left—the hospital and Traverse City—without a word to her.

  Liliana’s death stirred up too many memories, poked at too many scars. His anxiety levels had him feeling like he was drowning, flailing, reaching out for anything that could save him. So he called Tristan again. This stranger’s recorded voice somehow calmed him down. Todd hadn’t understood the need to call her that night nor the subsequent calls thereafter. Had he felt connected to her in some way because she knew loss? She knew pain? Or was it something more? Had her sister’s death somehow linked them in a sort of lifeline? He still didn’t have any answers but he knew that first night, it had been the calmness of her voice on that message that drew him to her.

  Ever since that night, whenever he got too overwhelmed by his pain, he called Tristan, to hear her voice, to let it soothe him, even though it was just a recording. He had never actually had a conversation with her. He just left voicemails, saying things he’d never told another soul. Just her. He blocked his number, so she couldn’t call him back, and somehow, this made him feel safe with her. So he opened up. Hearing the words coming out of his own mouth, imagining this beautiful woman listening to them, and forming opinions about what he said, helped him gain a new perspective on his life and work through his issues—his past. It got him back to the band the way twelve thousand miles around America hadn’t been able to.

  But he still had moments—like today. It wasn’t just one thing. It was a multitude of things weighing on him. So when she actually picked up the phone, he was shocked silent.

  "Todd?" Her sweet voice saying his name hit his ears and snapped him out of his daze. He was already the creepy guy who’d left messages on her phone for over five years; he didn’t want her to think he was any creepier than that.

  "Hi, Tristan."

  "Wow," she said, and he couldn’t tell her state of mind from that one word loaded with so many different emotions. He knew he’d thrown her for a loop. Hearing her say his name did the same to him. "I can’t believe I’m actually having a conversation with you …"

  "Well, it’s not much of one—yet," he replied and a bubble of laughter burst through the line. Okay, laughter is good, he thought. Maybe she’s not pissed.

  "No … it’s not, but it’s more than the one-sided conversation we’ve been having for years."

  "Very spot-on with those words. How are you, truthslayer?" he asked, removing his beanie and scratching at the back of his head, still a little shocked that he was actually speaking to her, this woman who pretty much held his deepest, darkest secrets.

  She laughed again and spoke. "Besides being surprised and kind of glad that I’m actually talking to you instead of listening to a voicemail, I’m all right."

  "Just all right?" he asked, his chest tightening.

  She sighed and he heard a sorrowful heaviness in that exhale of breath. "I miss my sister, especially today."

  He knew what day it was; he made sure to call Tristan every year on this day—the anniversary of her sister’s passing.

  "I know. That’s why I called."

  "Thanks. I’ve been sitting around all day with my phone in my hand, hoping you would. If I’d had your number, I’d have been calling you today."

  Right then and there, he felt like an ass for blocking his number all this time. He just hadn’t wanted her to connect it to who he was and have it get out. He hadn’t even thought that maybe she had needed someone to talk to as well.

  "Shit. I’m so sorry."

  "Don’t be. I’ve got your number now, Todd Hendricks …" she said, her voice trailing off.

  "Got yours too, Tristan Everleigh."

  "Well, duh," she replied, the lightness in her tone making him smile. This Tristan was feisty. Something that had taken him five years to figure out, something he would never have heard in her voicemails. He’d only known the polite Tristan who always sounded so professional in her outgoing voicemail messages. He’d given her a whole personality, had imagined her response to his messages, based on just those generic recordings and his brief sighting of her all those years ago. And now he found that this new dimension, this feistiness, was catching him off guard. So surreal, but at the same time refreshing. He may not have been using drugs or actually running away anymore, but in terms of his connection to this woman and any other new person in his life, he had still been keeping his distance.

  And right now, he wanted more.

  "I never once asked you if my calling was all right with you. It was selfish of—"

  "That’s okay," she interrupted. "I never minded your calls. I kind of liked them."

  "Really?" he asked, surprised yet thankful for this information.

  "Yeah, I didn’t feel so alone," she admitted, the heaviness returning to her voice, her earlier good cheer gone.

  "Neither did I."

  Her stuttered exhale made his own breath stop. He wanted to know her pain, hear it like he’d told her his, but he wanted it different this time. He wanted her in front of him, to see her face, to read her expressions as she confessed what hurt her.

 
Simply put, he wanted more with her.

  He knew it was weird to feel so connected to her, but if not for her, life would be much different—in a bad way. Those messages to her kept him from making major mistakes, kept him from calling other people—the kind that would bring him the drugs he needed to escape. Her voice kept him from running, from feeling alone.

  He wanted to thank her, but a commotion on her side stopped him cold.

  "Mommy?" the voice of a little girl said in the background.

  She’s a mother?

  "‘Mommy’?" he asked her.

  "I’ve got to go. Todd?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Don’t be a stranger, okay?"

  "I won’t," he promised.

  "Bye, Todd."

  "Bye, Tristan."

  Pressing the red button, Todd hung up the phone and then immediately called his mother to see if anyone was using the lake house. If he took anything from this conversation with Tristan, it was that it was time to stop hiding and start living. She didn’t know yet, but she was his first stop because he had an important connection to make.

  Chapter Three

  Ethan

  Sitting on the end of the bed, Ethan took his time undressing, glad that everyone was settled for the night. As he and Mia had made their way upstairs, Rory and Pierce had been waiting on the landing, each holding on to their stuffed animals, both wanting their mommy to sing to them. Mia, of course, had smiled indulgently at them and had granted their wish. His suga was an amazing mother and wife.

  His suga … As her due date approached, Ethan felt the pressure around his heart tighten. The thoughts of her on that operating table when the twins were born—dead to the world, to him—still haunted him. For those couple of minutes, his wife had been dead. No heartbeat.

  His suga was gone.

  And he’d been lost.

  He hated that fear that he could lose her at any moment, that he wouldn’t have her in his life. That he wouldn’t have his home, because that amazingly complex woman completed him, and without her, he was simply incomplete, broken … empty. He hated all those feelings, hated that they still plagued him. For the past few years, they had been hiding, but when he’d found out Mia was pregnant again, they bombarded him every chance they could get.