That first year, Fran had helped me decorate for the holidays. Growing up, my family’s feeble attempts to decorate had ended at a scrawny fake tree with mostly broken lights and a few decorations, which would’ve been fine if the spirit of Christmas had resonated throughout our family. It hadn’t. The holidays were an excuse for my dad to drink even more and my mother to flirt shamelessly at Christmas parties and drink her fair share.
As a new bride, I’d been overwhelmed and in awe of Mark’s parents. Their house was straight out of a magazine, and I did my best to emulate Fran’s holiday efforts. She taught me a lot about holiday decorating and entertaining, and I’d leaned on her talents every year. This time I was on my own, and I wasn’t measuring up.
I sat at the dining room table on Christmas Eve. With great effort, I’d finally tucked my excited twins in bed. They’d fallen asleep after I read The Night Before Christmas.
Now to wrap their presents and fill the stockings. I’d bought each of them one extravagant present, hoping this would be a Christmas they might remember fondly despite the absence of one very important person. I was weary, mentally and physically. These past few months had been a time of upheaval and change. My first concern had been and always would be my children’s well-being, which meant my needs were usually ignored, but that was what a good mother did. I never regretted one sacrifice I made for my precious, rambunctious babies.
There was a rap on my door, and I rose to answer it. Easton stood there, gripping a paper bag in one hand. My heart rate bumped up a few notches at the sight of him in all his masculine glory. No one rocked a pair of faded blue jeans like this man. He was even too sexy for words in a mere hoodie.
“Hey, you’re here all alone on Christmas Eve?”
“Where else did you expect a single mother to be?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Can I come in?”
“Okay.” I stood back and let him in the door.
“Where are the kids?”
“In bed with visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads.”
“What the hell are sugarplums anyway?” He grinned at me. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief, and I’d always adored his brand of mischief.
“No idea.”
He pulled a bottle of eggnog out of the bag and held it up for my inspection. The bottle contained brandy, too, and I had to smile.
I snagged a couple Christmas mugs from the cupboard. He filled them with eggnog, and I sprinkled nutmeg on top. I held up my mug. “To a good Christmas.”
“The best,” Easton responded with one of his knock-your-socks-and-panties-off smiles. We clicked mugs and sipped the creamy liquid.
“This is yummy but surprisingly strong.”
“It is.” His eyes lit up like the lights on my tree. “You are joining us for Christmas dinner tomorrow, right?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope.” He grinned. “You don’t want to miss Kaden’s cooking. The guy is a genius in the kitchen. I’m salivating thinking about his prime rib.”
“Why aren’t you going to your cousin Cooper’s house for Christmas?”
“Riley has a Monday Night Football game tonight, and they flew to San Diego to watch the game. They won’t be back until the day after Christmas. So, are you going to join us?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Fran had always served prime rib for Christmas dinner. It’d been absolutely to die for. I doubted Kaden would be able to top it, but I was actually looking forward to the meal. Prime rib sounded way better than the ham dinner I’d planned.
“Good.” Easton stared at me intently. His scrutiny made me uncomfortable. I self-consciously wiped at my lips in fear I might have dribbled. His gaze flicked to my lips and back.
“Easton? Is something wrong?”
He almost jumped as if prodded out of his trance. “Sorry. I… You’re so beautiful.”
“Thank you. I don’t feel beautiful.”
“Well, you are.”
I looked away, breaking eye contact because I didn’t have the courage to hold it any longer.
Easton clutched my hand, entwining his fingers with mine, and led me to the brightly lit tree. “I missed the tree lighting.”
“We knocked on your door earlier, but no one answered.” His hand in mine felt so good and so right. I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t have the strength to resist even this simple gesture of…of what? I didn’t know. Holding hands was a gesture of affection in my book, but I didn’t know what was in his playbook anymore. I willed myself to stop my analysis and enjoy the moment, a hard thing for someone like me to do, but I gave it my best shot.
“I was doing some last-minute Christmas shopping.”
“I see. Did you happen to buy mistletoe?” I regretted the words as soon as I’d blurted them, but what the hell, I’d own them.
He reached in the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a sprig of mistletoe. “Never leave home without it.”
“You don’t? Do you wander around kissing random women all day long?”
“No, only this one.” He held the mistletoe over our heads and leaned down for a soft yet toe-curling, body-melting kiss. My heart danced to the tune of the Christmas music playing in the background, as the magic of the holidays filled me with hope and joy. Yeah, I was a regular walking Christmas card. I’d tripped into a scene right out of a Hallmark Christmas movie and had no interest in changing the channel. I’d allow myself the small luxury of enjoying my fantasy a little longer.
He gazed down at me and raised his glass to clink it against mine. I’d forgotten I was holding mine and was amazed I didn’t spill a drop. I sipped from the mug, never taking my eyes from him. Something in the depths of those brown eyes gave me hope, even as I warned myself not to read too much into things. He was here, and so was I.
“I’m glad you told me about the kids,” he said.
“Even if it was seven years too late?”
“It’s never too late. You didn’t know, and as soon as you did, you contacted me. I see that now. I’m sorry for being a dick in the beginning.”
“I understand. I really do. I felt so dirty, and not in a good way, finding out a man other than my husband was the father of my children, and I didn’t even suspect it.”
“Well, you can get dirty with me anytime. I won’t mind.”
There he went again, wanting us to have a sexual relationship when I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to maintain a strictly recreational relationship with him. I stared at the tree in all its sparkling glory as confusion reigned inside me. This man had broken my heart years ago and wrecked me in the process. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to risk he’d do it again.
He set his eggnog and mine on the nearby coffee table. Standing beside me once more, he put his arm around my shoulders. I didn’t pull away though I should’ve. Instead my traitorous body leaned into his warm, solid strength.
“How are the kids doing?”
“They’re struggling without their fa—without Mark.”
“It’s okay. You can call him their father. He’s the only father they’ve known.” I could tell it stung him to say the words, and my ever-present state of guilt reared its ugly head, threatening to ruin the good mood I had going.
“I don’t blame you anymore. We both made mistakes and handled things the best we could considering our age at the time.”
“You don’t?” I glanced up at him. He was smiling down at me.
“I don’t. I have a confession to make, Caro.”
“A confession?” My heart was beating harder than the Little Drummer Boy had on Christmas Eve all those centuries ago.
“I was too young to realize what we had wasn’t easily duplicated with someone else. I thought I’d have it again when I was ready. I had the same college girlfriend for three years, and when we mutually parted ways, I was half as bothered as I was when we broke up. I had several other girlfriends, stayed with them long enough to know they weren’t what I was looking for, an
d moved on. A couple years ago, I admitted the truth to myself. Not one of them was you, and they could never be you. I didn’t know if my memory was playing tricks on me, and maybe what I recalled wasn’t what was, but I had to find out. I paid for an internet background check and found your address. I drove there and sat outside your home, waiting for you. Pretty soon a guy came out of the house with one of the twins, and you came out with the other.” He paused and waited for me to digest this information.
“You looked for me?”
“I did. This guy had my life, and I had hockey. I thought the tradeoff was fair, but later I wondered.”
“You knew the kids were yours?”
“No, I didn’t make that connection. I assumed you’d have told me if they were.”
“I would’ve if I’d known.” Was I telling the truth? If Mark had still been alive, and we’d done that DNA test, would I have told Easton? I hoped I would’ve.
“No more sorrys. We’re beyond that, Caro. For the next two years, I tried to convince myself hockey was enough, but when I made the Sockeyes, I found myself looking around and asking myself if that was all there was, and then you came back into my life, and I was mad, mad at you for not telling me, mad at myself for cutting ties with you and causing the problem.”
My heart slammed hard in my chest as I listened to his words. Unable to think of an appropriate response, I was flippant. “That must be some strong eggnog you bought,” I joked, but his gaze remained serious.
“Caro. I want us to try again. Start over, as best we can. Put yesterday behind us and look ahead. I want us to be a family.”
“Easton, do you know what you’re saying?”
“Yeah, I do. I mean, when I walked in here, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I vacillate between just sex, friends with benefits, and something more. I didn’t know what I wanted until I just verbalized my wants to you right now.”
I covered my face in my hands, unable to look him in the eye, and tried to make sense of his words and make sense of my feelings. Finally, I met his gaze.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if we can start over. I’m not sure. We need to see how we do together, how the kids do. They don’t know you’re their father yet, and who knows how that’ll affect them. I’m still getting over the loss of Mark. So many things are going on, and I don’t want to cling to you because I’m on the rebound.”
“I understand. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”
Everything about him reeked of sincerity, but I remained skeptical. Perhaps because he’d broken my heart once before after pledging his undying love and devotion for the rest of his life. Yeah, we’d been teenagers, but we weren’t seasoned adults right now either. Did he mean what he said? Was he in this for the long haul through not just the good but the bad? He hadn’t been tested under fire yet. The kids’ meltdown earlier today had only been the tip of the iceberg.
“Would you like some help?” He gestured toward the wrapping paper, ribbon, and gifts spread across the table.
“I’d love some.”
“I wrap a mean present.” He winked at me.
“You’d better.” I winked back.
Chapter 22—Dog Days
~~Easton~~
Sleeping alone wasn’t how I’d wanted to spend my Christmas Eve. I’d considered more than once as I tossed and turned to text Caro and invite myself over. Only I didn’t. My pride wouldn’t allow me to behave in such a desperate manner, while my dick would’ve gladly thrown pride out the window, gotten on its knees, and begged for any crumb she might throw our way. My dick had no shame. I wasn’t sure I did either.
At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, it was daylight.
I wasn’t a morning person, but I woke early and staggered into the kitchen for a cup of super-strong coffee. I caught a whiff of Kaden’s cooking, but I was on a mission to get a cup of joe before I delved into breakfast.
Christmas morning.
My first with my kids and Caro. The first of many or the first and last?
Last night I’d been honest with her and myself thanks to Ice’s hockey analogy. I’d put my heart out there and told her how I truly felt, even though I hadn’t known until that very moment. I’d been so baffled by the right direction to take. To some extent, I still was, but I needed to try.
She hadn’t reacted as I’d hoped, but she hadn’t rejected me either. Time, we all needed time. And time we had plenty of. I was known for my patience when it came to waiting for just the right shot at the net. I’d practice that same patience with Caro. Good things came to those who waited.
I carried my cup of coffee to the living room, where Kaden and Steele sat on the couch, balancing heaping plates of bacon and eggs on their laps.
“I don’t suppose you saved any for me?” I asked.
“Nope. You snooze, you lose,” Kaden said.
“Asshole,” I shot back.
“That’s what you get for sticking us with dog-sitting duties last night while you hung with Caro.”
“She was sleeping when I left,” I countered.
“You’re getting awful tight with her.” Kaden pointed his fork at me to punctuate his words. “You’re going to be paying up on that Puck Brother bet in no time. Cannot wait.”
“Fuck you,” I said, as it seemed to fit the occasion.
“That fucking dog ate my sock.” Kaden held up a sock with a huge hole in the heel.
“At least she didn’t pee on your leg like she did mine,” Steele countered.
“I’m sorry, guys. I thought an older dog would be trained. I think she has a little anxiety.”
“Anxiety?” Kaden snorted and rolled his eyes. “Hardly. She slept on my bed half the night and was snoring so loudly I had to sleep on the couch.”
“You could’ve kicked her off the bed.”
“Yeah, right. You try that. The dog weighs as much as I do.” Kaden glared at the black Newfoundland dog sitting at his feet, staring up at him with soulful brown eyes, lines of drool stretched from her mouth to the floor.
I hadn’t counted on the drooling, but I’d fallen in love with the dog’s temperament. Ice and Avery had mentioned the dog last night, since she was living temporarily on the farm where his wife trained horses. I’d immediately left the party and gone to the barn to pick up Mona. She loved kids, and she was absolutely adorable, like a huge teddy bear. The twins would fall for her, but I suspected their mother would be furious.
“Mona’s in love with you,” Steele snickered.
“All the females love him,” I quipped.
“She’s in love with my cooking.” Kaden glowered at the drooling dog. She took that as an invitation to jump on the couch and curl up next to him, not an easy feat considering she had to weigh one hundred and sixty pounds or more. “How much longer do we have to house this monstrous drool machine?”
“I’m giving her to Heath this morning.”
“Oh, yeah, and that’s going to go over well with Caro,” Kaden said.
“I want to be there when you do that and watch her kick your sorry ass.”
I sighed. Maybe I hadn’t thought this through as well as I should’ve. Caro loved animals and winning her over wouldn’t take long. The dog was supposed to be well trained, but I was having my doubts. She appeared to be housebroken, except for the incident with Steele, but that’d happened on the balcony, which was technically outside. I didn’t know if Mona liked cats either, and that could be a deal breaker, yet I had a good idea Rusty would hold his own.
“So, guys, here’s the plan. I’ll go over there in about an hour, and I’ll text when it’s time to bring the dog over. Don’t forget to wear the Santa hats.” I pointed at the Sockeye Santa hats I’d bought at the team store yesterday.
My buddies rolled their eyes in unison.
“You should be grateful I wasn’t able to rent any Santa and Mrs. Claus costumes this close to Christmas.”
“Too bad. Kaden looks great in an apron. He could
’ve been Mrs. Claus.” Steele winked at me. Kaden placed his plate on the coffee table and fired a pillow at him, pegging him in the head.
Steele narrowed his eyes, ready to reciprocate.
“Hey, don’t throw that at me. You’ll hit the dog.” Mona rolled on her back, her head on Kaden’s lap, and made an odd sound between a whimper and a growl. Kaden ran his hand over her long, glossy coat. “I really don’t like dogs.”
“She loves you.”
“She’s smelly and hairy and needy. Three things I avoid in a woman.”
Steele threw back his head and howled. Mona’s devotion to Kaden was fucking hilarious, especially considering his repulsion to animals. Mona was secretly evil and getting a kick out of torturing the one person in the house least enamored of her.
Steele and I laughed our asses off until we were exhausted. Even though the scowl on Kaden’s face threatened to start us all over again, we managed to keep our emotions under control.
Kaden pushed the large dog off his lap and stood. “It’s time to prep for Christmas dinner. Who’s going to help?”
Steele and I exchanged glances.
“I’m delivering my presents to the kids.”
“I’m taking the dog for a walk,” Steele said quickly. Neither of us had any interest in peeling potatoes or chopping veggies or whatever Kaden had in mind.
“I’ll take her for a spin in the park down the street and wait for your text.”
“Do you have doggie bags?”
Steele reached in his pocket and withdrew a few black plastic bags. “Right here.” He grabbed a leash, and Mona forgot all about the love of her life, exchanging him for a new one, the guy with the leash. She danced around until Steele corralled her long enough to put the leash on her. Together, they exited out the door.
“I sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing.” Kaden shook his head as he headed for the kitchen, stopped, and turned toward his room. “I’m taking a shower before I cook. I’m covered in dog slime.”
Shutout Page 15