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

by Cambria Hebert

  Not to mention I’d need Rim to drive as I pushed to give us some advantage to pulling up the slight bank we were wedged in.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about a woman who wasn’t the best driver on a sunny spring day and who was kind of shitty at driving a stick shift trying to haul ass out of some ice while I stood behind the car and pushed…

  Yeah, that might not be the best idea.

  And I wouldn’t say it out loud, but my shoulder ached and I honestly didn’t want to risk injuring myself this late in the season and so close to the Super Bowl.

  Being an injured quarterback sucked donkey balls. I wasn’t about to hit replay on that.

  I got back in the car and blew on my chilled fingers. Rimmel was watching me, so I pulled them away from my mouth and turned toward her. “We’re stuck, but it’s not that bad. I’ll call B, and he can come help me get us out.”

  “Want me to help?” she asked. Her glasses were back on her nose, and behind them her eyes were hopeful.

  “This is man’s work, baby.”

  She made a face like I knew she would. I laughed and pulled out my phone and called up the phone screen and hit B’s number.

  The call dropped before it even started ringing. I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at it.

  “No signal,” I spat and dropped it in the cup holder. “Let me see your phone, baby.”

  Rimmel pulled hers out of the kangaroo pocket on the hoodie and gave me a sheepish look. “The battery died.”

  I made a sound. “Your battery died? How the hell is that even possible? You never use it enough.”

  “I forgot to charge it last night, and well… Nova looked so cute tonight, I took a lot of pictures…” Her voice trailed away like she felt guilty.

  “You’re allowed to use your phone,” I mused. “It’s okay.”

  Her teeth sank into her lower lip.

  I grabbed her hand and kissed it. “No worries.”

  I snatched my phone up and opened the door again. “Maybe I’ll get a better signal out here.”

  I strode out into the center of the empty rode and held up the cell like I was on some weird commercial where I was asking everyone if they could “hear me now.”

  Rimmel appeared at my side, and I frowned. “You should stay in the car. It’s cold out here.”

  She responded by pulling up the hood on her sweatshirt and pointedly looking at the phone. “You get service?”

  “No,” I grumped but tried B again anyway.

  The call dropped again.

  “You’d think we were in Timbuktu,” I muttered.

  “Let’s walk up the road some.” She pointed in the direction we’d come. “Maybe the closer we get to civilization, the better the service will get.”

  “I’ll g—” I started, then cut myself off. I wasn’t going to leave her here alone on a dark street. No fucking way. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go. Let me shut the car off.”

  Once it was off and locked up, the keys in my pocket, I returned to Rim’s side and held out my hand.

  “Feel like a moonlit walk in the snow, Mrs. Anderson?”

  “Sounds perfect for Christmas Eve, Mr. Anderson.”

  Funny being stuck out here with no cell service didn’t seem so annoying anymore.

  We started walking down the center of the road. Not one car had come this way since we’d been here. Clearly, coming this way had been a good strategy for eluding the press.

  “It’s pretty,” Rim murmured and turned her face up toward the sky where the snowflakes fluttered down.

  “You ever catch a snowflake on your tongue?” I asked, watching her.

  She looked like an angel out here tonight.

  “No,” she replied, not looking away from the sky.

  I stopped walking. “What the hell do you mean no?”

  She giggled and glanced at me. “Grew up in Florida, remember?”

  “You’re killing me, Smalls.” I sighed. “B and I used to spend all kinds of time outside eating snowflakes and making snow cones with Kool-Aid.”

  “I bet you two were adorable,” she mused.

  “Of course we were.” I agreed. “Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue,” I instructed.

  She glanced at me again.

  I lifted my face and did it. “Ahhhh,” I said when my tongue was hanging out.

  She laughed and followed suit. We stood there in the center of the road, making sounds and moving around to catch the snow.

  “I caught one!” she said enthusiastically and started bouncing around. “It’s cold!”

  “Well, duh,” I retorted, amused by her antics.

  Her bouncing around proved to be a hazard to her health, and her sneaker slid on the road. Her small frame pitched to the side, and I acted fast, catching her around the waist, effectively stopping her from busting her ass.

  “I gotcha,” I told her.

  She gave me a brilliant smile and then bent backward over my arm and opened her mouth again. Her slight pink tongue sought out the snow, and she giggled when a white flake landed there and melted instantly.

  I loved her.

  So fucking much.

  Her innocence was something I would always admire. And something I would always protect.

  “You’re right. Catching them is fun.” Rimmel looked up at me.

  I pulled her close and kissed her. “Now we just need to find some Kool-Aid so you can have a snow cone.”

  “I’ve never made a snowman either.”

  “What the fuck kind of childhood did you even have?” I gasped in horror.

  She laughed, but I saw the shadow sliver behind the happiness. I hadn’t been thinking. I shouldn’t have said that.

  Rim picked up on my regret instantly, and she straightened. “Don’t feel bad. We’re having fun. You can tease me.”

  “This a hard time of year for you, baby?”

  This wasn’t our first Christmas together, but in a lot of ways, it was. Last year, she’d flown back to Florida and we’d celebrated when she got home. This was the first year we would be together on the actual holiday. It was our first one as husband and wife.

  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 fro
nt 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.