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

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#Holiday: A Hashtag Series Short Story (Hashtag #6.5) Page 2

by Cambria Hebert


  As I secured the infant seat into the back of the new white Range Rover I’d bought Ivy the second my pro pay hit the account, I didn’t feel bad. I’d rack up a world of debt to keep this little girl safe and away from prying eyes.

  When I pulled back to shut the door, Ivy slipped in quickly, sticking her head down close to her, making sure the baby was totally all right. It didn’t matter I’d just done it. Ivy had to see for herself. Turns out she had quite the mother lion in her.

  I fucking loved it.

  When she was satisfied, her blond head, covered in a thick red cable-knit hat, pulled back. I shut the door gently, so as not to startle a sleeping Nova.

  “Hi,” I murmured, grasping her waist right at the place I called B handles and tugging her toward me. Fat, white flakes of snow fell lazily from the inky black sky and swirled around us. The tip of her nose was pink from the cold, and her dark lashes framed her wide eyes.

  “Hey.” The throaty quality of her voice tightened my abs.

  “All I could think about tonight was being alone with you guys.” I cupped the back of her neck and used my thumb to turn up her jaw.

  “Me too,” she murmured and leaned up to kiss me.

  Her full lips felt cold against mine, and I opened for her, covering her mouth totally, offering her warmth amongst the snow.

  I twisted my tongue against hers and caught the distinct flavor of peppermint, and I smiled against her lips. “Someone’s been eating candy canes again,” I murmured.

  “Maybe.” She giggled.

  I wrapped both arms around her and lunged forward, bending her back and drinking in the full taste of her, with a little twist of peppermint.

  This was how Christmas tasted.

  It tasted like my wife, the love of my life. Like crisp wintry air and the sharp, sweet aftertaste of a candy cane.

  It might be a taste better than sprinkles.

  And that was saying something.

  Her hands slid up like they wanted to tangle in my hair but couldn’t, so they changed direction and wrapped around my ears.

  She held on to the sides of my head while I kissed the shit right out of her, and I felt her knees weaken and my arms had to take on more of her weight to keep her from falling.

  The rumble of an engine made my arms turn stiff around her. I lifted my head and twisted around to see a car pull right up beside the Range Rover on the driver’s side.

  Shit! I knew better than this. To get caught up in the parking lot of the stadium. We were trying to get away from the press, not give them something to photograph.

  “In the car, baby,” I said quietly and deftly opened the passenger door and ushered Ivy inside. When I tried to pull back and shut the door, she caught my hand. I glanced down, noting how pale and small hers looked in mine.

  “B?”

  “Hmm?” I glanced up.

  “Let’s just go, okay?”

  It was her way of telling me to keep it in check. I let out a breath and nodded.

  I prepared myself for the unpleasant encounter as I walked around the car. The second I stepped to the driver’s side, the door of the car that had pulled up beside us opened. I braced myself for a camera and a ton of questions.

  But it wasn’t a reporter.

  It was two girls. They were both dressed in Knight gear, including matching hats with huge orange pompoms on the top.

  “Ohmigosh,” the girl rushed, all but falling out of the driver’s seat. “You’re him.”

  I relaxed instantly. They were fans. Just overeager fans who sat in the parking lot waiting, hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the players.

  I didn’t really feel like being charming, but a guy had to do what a guy had to do. It was my job. These girls sat out in the cold on a freaking holiday to watch the Knights play. They’d been here to support us, and I wouldn’t do one damn thing to make them regret it.

  “Depends on which him you’re talking about,” I drawled and stepped forward to help her pick herself up off the ground.

  “You’re the Braeden Walker.”

  I chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have a the before my name.”

  She giggled, and it didn’t escape my notice that she took a little too long getting her “balance” after I helped her up.

  So it was going to be like that.

  That being the other part of my job. The women. Before Ivy, I would have been all hells yeah and YOLO, but not now. Now when a woman tried to be a little too friendly, my hackles rose. There was no way in hell these two bitches didn’t know I wasn’t married.

  They knew.

  They didn’t care.

  That made them no-good, dirty scrubs in my book.

  As if to punctuate my thoughts, the girl from the passenger side came rushing around next to her friend. Her eyes were bright and they roamed over my body.

  Obvious much?

  I ran my tongue over my teeth and then smiled a lopsided smile. “You ladies been out here a while?”

  The driver nodded. “We really wanted to meet you.”

  “Me?” I asked.

  The both nodded enthusiastically, and yeah, some of my annoyance with their scrub-ish behavior melted. They were fans.

  “You and Romeo light up the field.” The girl from the passenger seat sighed. Her hair was short, not quite shoulder length, and the brown ends flipped up and out beneath the hat.

  The Knight hoodie she was wearing wasn’t overly large like the ones I was used to seeing on Ivy and Rim. It fit like it was supposed to, and she paired it with painted-on jeans and a pair of boots with purple socks sticking out the top.

  Her friend had long blond hair that hung over her shoulders from beneath her hat. Her eyes were brown, and she had on a lot of makeup. Ivy wore makeup, but it never looked like that.

  “I’ll be sure to tell Romeo you said so,” I said to the girl who’d just spoken, and I winked. She giggled and shifted closer to me. I kept my feet planted where they were because backing up was just rude. “The Knights appreciate you ladies coming out to support the team. Means a lot to us all.”

  “But especially to you?” the driver said and leaned forward, placing a hand on my arm.

  “Of course,” I said, smooth. “Did you want me to sign something?” I asked, wanting to get on with it.

  “Please!” the brown-haired girl said fast. She hurried to the backseat of the car and reached in, bringing out a football. She handed me a gold marker and held it out with the ball. “Could you sign it to my brother? His name is Max. He’s twelve, and you’re his favorite player on the team. He’s going to pass out when he opens this tomorrow.”

  For the first time since they started talking, I didn’t have to fake a smile. “You sat out here to get your kid brother a signed football for Christmas?”

  Her cheeks turned even pinker than they already were. It wasn’t from the cold. “I’m a Knights fan, too,” she hedged. “But not like Max. He has a big poster of you by his bed.”

  Well, I’d be damned. That made me feel like a fucking hero.

  “Sa-weet,” I sang as I scrawled my name and number on the football. Then I wrote his name on it and a big smiley face.

  “Oh my God,” she said when I gave it back to her. “Thank you so much!”

  I grinned.

  “Merry Christmas!” she shot out and then leapt at me. She was like half my size, so I caught her easily enough and hugged her, but with much less zealousness.

  Finally, I peeled her off me and set her away.

  “Well, it was awesome meeting you.”

  “Wait,” the driver said. “Can you sign something for me?”

  I turned on my fake smile. “Of course.”

  The gold marker was back in my face, and I took it, using my teeth to uncap it. Both girls watched me like I was some kind of elusive attraction.

  I gave them a grin around the cap, and they both sighed.

  “Where’s your paper?” I asked the driver.

  “Don’t have o
ne,” she said and stepped forward.

  The next thing I knew, she was thrusting her chest at me. “Can you sign my hoodie?” She pointed to a spot. “Right here.”

  I threw back my head and laughed.

  What?

  Come on. I’m a freaking red-blooded man, and when a woman shoves her boobs in my face and asks me to sign them, it’s kinda flattering.

  “You sure?” I asked.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d been asked to sign a boob.

  At least this one was clothed.

  “Oh, I’m sure.” She batted her eyes.

  I chuckled and used my left hand to hold the fabric tight while I scrawled my illegible signature across the top of her breast. When I was done, I handed her the marker.

  “I’m never washing this shirt.” She sighed.

  “Merry Christmas, ladies. Thanks again for supporting the Knights.” I glanced at the one with the little brother. “Tell Max I said hi.”

  They watched me as I slipped into the Ranger Rover. I barely opened the door wide enough to get in and then fired up the engine.

  I didn’t wait to drive away. I did so quickly and deftly, around my admirers, and left them in my rearview.

  When we were almost to the edge of the lot, I looked over at Ivy, sheepish. She’d been watching me since I’d gotten in the car.

  “More admirers?” she mused.

  I relaxed a little. She wasn’t pissed. Every time women threw themselves at me in front of her, it made me nervous. It was one thing to know your husband had fans and admirers, but to see them up close and trying to get personal was something else.

  So far, Ivy handled it okay, with only a few moments of icy stares at some of the bolder fans.

  “They sat outside waiting for me,” I said.

  When she didn’t say anything else, I turned and looked at her. She looked away quickly, turning her head to stare out the passenger window.

  I still saw.

  I saw a look I recognized. A look I’d seen once before.

  Wistful, almost jealous, but… not quite.

  It left me unsettled.

  I didn’t like seeing that look in those blue eyes. It meant I wasn’t doing my job.

  “Hey.” I reached for her, and at the same time, Nova made a noise and started fussing.

  Ivy jumped up and turned, “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she crooned and started climbing into the backseat.

  “Careful now,” I told her and slowed the car. I knew better than to tell her not to. It took me weeks just to get her to sit in the front seat instead of in the back with the baby. If I told her it wasn’t safe for her to be climbing around, she’d probably just start sitting back there again.

  And yeah, maybe I sometimes climbed back there when I wasn’t driving, too.

  “I think she’s hungry,” Ivy said and then started talking in soothing tones to our daughter. Seconds later, her fussing subsided and the light suckling sounds of her with the pacifier filled the car.

  “We’re almost there,” I said. “I shouldn’t have let them talk to me so long.” If I hadn’t, we might be at the cabin by now, and Nova wouldn’t be fussy.

  “It’s your job.” Her understanding voice traveled up between the seats. “I’ll text Drew, have him get a bottle ready.”

  When I came to a red light, I glanced back over my shoulder. Blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, and the red reflection framed her downturned face in the dark.

  She was staring down at Nova, a small smile pulling the corners of her lips.

  She loved that little girl. Our little girl. My little girl.

  “Baby,” I said, low.

  She looked up, her eyes seeking mine.

  “You know how much I love you, right?”

  “Times two.” She agreed.

  The light changed, and I pushed the car forward.

  Words weren’t enough. Not tonight. Not on Christmas Eve. Not after the look I saw haunt the depths of her eyes.

  Romeo

  Anxiety slammed into me and I shot forward before the car even totally stopped moving.

  The music on the stereo had seemed nice before, but now it seemed loud and disruptive. I hit the button to shut it off as I reached for Rimmel.

  “Are you okay?” I stressed. “Are you hurt?”

  Rimmel let out a shuddering breath and pushed the glasses up on her nose. “I’m fine. What about you?”

  “Who the fuck cares about me?” I spat and gripped her shoulders, resisting the urge to shake her. “Look at me, are you okay?”

  Her hands were warm when they covered the sides of my face. “I’m fine, Romeo. We just slid off the road. It’s not like we were in a crash.”

  My fingers delved into her hair and started gently probing around for any kind of bumps or knots. She might have hit her head on the window when the car hit the snowbank.

  She made a sound. My eyes narrowed, fingers stilled. I gazed at her, trying to figure out where she was hurt.

  She rolled her eyes.

  The woman freaking rolled her eyes at me.

  “Did you hit your head?” Rimmel inquired.

  I screwed up my face. “What? No.”

  “Then you should remember there is no way I could have been hurt because you practically threw your body in front of mine. I barely even jolted when the car hit the bank.”

  “You didn’t think I’d just sit over here like some pansy ass, did you?”

  She pressed a hand to her chest in mock horror. “You mean the driver actually stay in the driver’s seat and drive?”

  “Are you sassing me, woman?”

  “Who, me?”

  I muttered, “Who, me?” and then smiled. “The car was going off the road. Nothing I could do about it. But your safety… that I could control.”

  Rim sighed my name like only she could. “Oh, Romeo.” Her small fingers unlatched her seat belt, and she climbed over the stick shift and straddled my lap. “You’re okay?”

  “Long as you are, then, yeah.”

  She pushed the glasses up onto her head, like a headband, and leaned forward to touch our lips together. Without the black-framed eyewear in the way, I pushed close, grabbing her and letting my large hands consume her head. We kissed fiercely for a long moment, ravaging each other like we’d been apart for months.

  Still palming her head, I pulled back and stared into her unfocused brown eyes. She had such beautiful eyes. Everyone always went on about blue eyes and green eyes. Brown eyes were so underrated. So much depth there, so much warmth. Rim had flecks of gold in hers, and even in the dark car, I could make out the way they shone.

  I leaned forward, my shoulders coming off the seat, and pressed soft, light kisses to her lids, allowing my lips to drift over the bridge of her nose to kiss the tip.

  “The things you do to me, Smalls.” I spoke on a whispered sigh.

  “I love you.”

  Every time she said those three words, my heart skipped a beat. Her love was the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

  “I love you, too, baby.” I pulled back, realizing we were on the side of the road and the car was sitting sideways in a pile of snow. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Promise.” She made a crossing motion over her heart.

  “Stay here. I’m gonna go see how bad the Cat looks.” I helped her back into the passenger seat.

  Helped her = putting a hand on her ass and giving it a squeeze.

  Outside of the interior of the car, the winter wind slapped me in the face, and I gritted my teeth against it. I didn’t mind the cold, but I’d had just about e-fucking-nough of it tonight. Between the game and now this, I was done.

  I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat and walked around the back of the car. The Hellcat spun and then slid sideways into the bank. The rear passenger side was right up against the packed snow, and it didn’t appear there was any body damage, but there might be a dent in the side once I pulled it away from the pile.

  The tir
es looked okay, and I hadn’t hit anything else. I guess it was a blessing this happened on a back road where there was nothing or no one to hit.

  The Hellcat was sitting at a slight angle, but that’s because the road sat up a little higher than the bank I’d slid onto.

  No worries, though. I’d have us back on the road and at the cabin in no time.

  The passenger door popped open, and Rimmel stuck her head out. I saw her grimace when the cold wind hit her.

  “Get back in the car!” I told her.

  “How does it look?” she ignored me and asked.

  I gave the back end one last once-over and nodded. “All good. Now get back inside.”

  She stuck her tongue out at me before retreating back into the heated interior, and I thought once more tonight about a blowjob.

  For as tired and sore as I was after the game, I was horny as hell.

  When I was back in the driver’s seat, I grabbed the wheel and took the car out of neutral. “We’ll be home in just a few.”

  She settled back into the seat, snuggling into the Knight hoodie she wore.

  I gave it some gas, and the engine responded, but the car didn’t move. Instead, the sound of spinning tires and the back end shifting a little against the snowbank was all that happened.

  I grunted and gave it a little more gas.

  The same thing happened, but this time when I let up, the car slid backward just a fraction.

  “Romeo?” Rimmel asked, her voice a little wary.

  “It’s all ice back there. The entire side of the road is coated in it. The snow pile probably started melting a little today when the sun was out but then refroze because of the frigid temps.”

  “Are we stuck?” she asked.

  I didn’t reply right away. Instead, I gave it another try, pumping the gas and milking the engine. Besides spinning out and creating a lot of noise, the car didn’t move.

  I muttered a dark curse and flung myself out of the seat and stomped back around the car. My jaw locked when I saw all I’d done in my attempt at driving us out was dig us deeper into the ice.

  I thought about pushing the car out of it and up onto the road. I probably could, but the sneakers I was wearing didn’t afford me much traction, and I’d likely slip around trying to find my footing to put my weight into the push.

 

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