For The Holidays (Gaming The System Book 9)

by Brenna Aubrey

  I squeezed his hand gently and tugged him along with me. “Oh, you’ll understand very quickly.”

  Then I led him into the solarium where I’d pulled the wide, tall curtains against the cold wintery backdrop. The huge, mounted television on the far wall was streaming a video I’d found on YouTube showing a tropical shore and swaying palm trees. Polynesian music quietly streamed in through the streamers. I’d cranked the two restaurant-style propane heaters up to full blast to make it nice and warm.

  William stopped beside me and scanned the room, taking it all in. I took advantage of his distraction to grab my little creations off a nearby table. The house had been filled with fresh flower arrangements when we’d arrived, and when I got my idea earlier, I’d decided to repurpose some of those gorgeous flowers into makeshift flower crowns. They hardly looked authentic, but they’d do in a pinch. I put one on my head and picked up the other one for him.

  This might be tricky. He typically didn’t like things on his head—hats and the like--but I could always grab a little string and turn it into an ugly lei instead.

  To my surprise, William studied the crown on my head for a long moment before quietly dipping his head and giving me silent permission to put the crown on his head. He adjusted it once his head raised.

  “So we’re imagining ourselves in some tropical location?”

  “French Polynesia! Look. We have dinner—I ordered some Hawaiian food—Kalua style pork and rice. And there’s a tray of fresh fruit, even some pineapple. The concierge got it all arranged for me when I’d called her earlier. Isn’t that cool?”

  “No, it’s not cool. It’s warm.” He punctuated his statement with a smile. Only William could get away with a joke like that, and I laughed, truly meaning it.

  “I also made us some tropical drinks, and look—there’s a big towel spread out next to the jacuzzi. So we can enjoy our beach luau.”

  “I don’t believe they do luau in French Poly—”

  “William, just roll with it, please? We’re pretending.”

  He blinked and a slow smile crept onto his face. “Okay. But can I pretend to sit on the beach and watch you doing a special Polynesian dance?”

  My eyes widened. I had no idea how to dance that style, but I could always improvise. So he settled himself down on the towel and I twirled and moved my hips a little—I had taken some belly dance classes, so I supposed it was a tiny bit like that, anyway. I moved my arms through the air like I’d seen Polynesian dancers do before.

  When I was done, I curtsied, and William clapped. Then I joined him on the towel.

  “How was that?”

  “I think French Polynesia is amazing. Much better than the cold snow and ice.”

  I smiled and landed a big kiss on his mouth. “Good.”

  “Since we’re here in French Polynesia, I have something special to say to you.”

  I picked up an empty plate and began to fill it for him. “Oh? What is that?”

  “Je t’aime. It means—”

  “I love you. In French! Now you know how to say it in three languages—English, Bosnian and French.”

  He shook his head. “I’m at fifteen so far and hope to add another twenty before we get home.”

  My eyes bulged. “What?”

  “You like to hear the words, but I figured it might get boring for me to say the same thing over and over again, so I’m going to learn different ways to say it.” Then, as if to illustrate his point, he signed something to me in what I could only assume was American Sign Language. And I could only assume it was I love you.

  Oh William! I could look the world over and never ever find someone as unique and amazing and so incredible.

  I set the plate down and threw my arms around his neck. Our mouths met in a delicious, heated kiss. “Do you mind if your dinner gets a little cold?”

  He pulled me tightly against him. “There’s always the microwave.”

  Then he leaned back on the towel, pulling me with him and, laughing, I went.

  French Polynesia was a wonderful place to celebrate New Year’s Eve.

  Chapter 32

  Heath

  Well after the craziness of Kat and Lucas’s ski race—and the subsequent race to the Emergency Room—it was strange to think that things were finally calming down on New Year’s Eve.

  In my younger days, I’d spent some crazy-ass New Year’s Eve celebrations getting blackout drunk or hooking up with some dude that looked much hotter with the beer goggles on than in the cold light of day. Some of those guys had actually ended up being coyote ugly—so bad you’d rather chew your own arm off than pull it out from under them and wake them up on your way out the door.

  Oh the walks of shame on New Year’s Day, head throbbing and mouth dry, from days of drinking past. And heavily medicating with the hair of the dog that bit you.

  Shall auld acquaintance be forgot… and all that.

  But this New Year’s Eve? In the hot new ski resort with fresh meat everywhere, I found myself curiously uninterested, more into hanging out with friends and just enjoying the setting and their company. This was a new look for me.

  Was I finally growing up?

  I’d been hesitant to come when Mia had extended the invitation—the awkwardness of being the ninth wheel among the four couples and all that. But in the end, I was glad I came—if for no other reason than to hang out with three of my closest friends—Mia, Kat, and Adam—and their significant others and family members.

  Not long after Kat’s accident, after we’d all assured Mia that she’d be fine and we’d take care of her, we saw Adam and Mia off for their night alone together to celebrate their big anniversary.

  April and Jordan left shortly afterwards, also dressed to the nines, to dine at some hotel in the village and join the festivities there. The rest were going to be homebodies.

  Gregg, the concierge’s assistant, had been trying to ask me out all week. I just wasn’t into him. I was nice about it, and he took it like a grown-up. We ended up having an early dinner together at the same little diner where we’d all eaten at the beginning of the week.

  The thought of more poutine sounded like a great idea to me.

  We talked music—which was pretty much the only place our interests coincided—ate good food, had a beers. It wasn’t a bad time. I came home a few hours before midnight.

  As expected, the house was fairly quiet. I first ran into April and Jordan, already back early from their big night out, still dressed up all fancy. He wore a black designer suit perfectly tailored to his impressive physique, and she was in a classic little black dress that barely came past the top of her thighs, and shimmery high heels that looked like they cost more than I made in a month. And despite the rumors flying around our mansion for the past week, there was no diamond ring on her left hand. Jordan must have chickened out after all, if indeed there had been any truth to the gossip.

  They had the music on and were dancing close, swaying against each other. Well, it was good to know I had some friends who could dance.

  “Heath! Happy New Year. How was your date?” April said, from where her head was perched against her boyfriend’s shoulder.

  Jordan rested his head atop April’s as they continued to sway together to the music. “Well he’s back two hours before midnight, so I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say it wasn’t the greatest.”

  “Naw, it wasn’t a date. It was just poutine and beer at the diner. He’s a nice enough guy, but….” I shrugged

  “Not nice enough for you,” April said, reaching out a hand to rest on my arm. She was clearly tipsy, well on her way to getting soused. Lucky Jordan. “Come—dance with us, Heath.”

  I put up my hand. “I’m good. I’m going to go peek in on Kat and see how she’s doing then maybe pop some popcorn and watch a movie in the den.”

  “Knock yourself out, bro. Just don’t drink alone,” Jordan quipped.

  I laughed. “Not planning on it. You two enjoy each other—I see
that you’re doing it already.”

  April turned her face into Jordan’s chest and giggled a little bit. He steadied her against him, bringing his hand up to her head. He smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head.

  I left the living room and knocked on the door of Kat and Lucas’s suite. It took them a minute before they called out for me to open the door. There was no small amount of giggling involved.

  Oh boy, I’d interrupted something, obviously. I cracked the door open. “Hey you two, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were up to—”

  “Come in. I’m decent,” Kat called.

  I opened the door a bit. “But you weren’t a minute ago, right?” She had the covers pulled all the way up to her neck but her wrapped foot peeked out from the covers, elevated on some pillows, as it was supposed to be. Lucas was fully clothed, though his shirt looked hastily pulled on. Well then.

  “Happy New Year, Heath!” Kat called, a little too loudly, and raised her hand to wave frantically as if I were a mile away and she were trying to capture my attention.

  “You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

  Lucas shook his head. “Nope, she’s banned from alcohol because of the meds which, apparently, are compounding her natural silliness.”

  She laughed. “So my big take-away today? Never race your dude on a ski slope.”

  I smirked. “I’ll take that under advisement should the issue ever arise, thanks. Anything I can get either of you? Water? Condoms?”

  “Pfft. We don’t need those, unless you are going to blow them up and make little balloon animals out of them,” Kat said with another laugh.

  Lucas leaned over and propped her foot back on the pillow. “The doc wants you to keep it elevated,” he chided her mildly. Then he turned to me. “We’re good. Thanks, Heath. You want to hang out in here and watch the countdown?”

  I glanced at the TV. It wasn’t even on. “Eh, I think I’m just gonna go chill in the den. You two seem to have plans for ringing in the new year that definitely don’t involve me. Just tell Kat not to be too loud. We don’t need to hear how much she’s enjoying the pain meds—and you.”

  She grabbed a cushion and tossed it at me. And missed horribly. Testament to the loopiness from aforementioned pain meds.

  “Ta ta. See you next year!”

  I shut the door but I could hear her reply. “Oh, I get it! See you next year.”

  I laughed and shook my head. Hadn’t had a drop to drink, and she was three sheets to the wind. Either they were about to both get lucky, or she was about to pass out for the next nine hours. Hard to tell which.

  On my way to the kitchen for my movie snacks, I passed by the entrance to the solarium and saw that the TV screen and several lights were turned on. When I slipped in to turn them off, I noticed the couple sitting close and kissing on a towel spread out across the ground. They were under a big propane heat lamp right beside the bubbling jacuzzi, both wearing crowns of fresh flowers.

  It was as warm as a summer day in here. The TV played an ambient video of a turquoise-blue ocean crashing onto powdery white sand, palm trees swaying in a breeze and the sun beating down.

  Well… looked like someone’d had their fair share of the mountains and snow.

  “Aloha,” I said when they noticed me.

  William frowned. “I don’t think that’s a Canadian greeting.”

  I waved to the TV, the lamp, the beach towel. “Clearly, you two aren’t in Canada anymore.”

  Jenna smiled, reached into the jacuzzi, and sent me a splash that only hit me with a few warm droplets on my forehead. “We’re in Tahiti!”

  “Oh,” I frowned, thinking. “Bonjour, then. That works for Canada and for Tahiti. See, William, I got you.”

  “We’re just pretending to be in Tahiti,” William provided unnecessarily. Strange explanation from a man who regularly dressed up in medieval armor and fought other men with a sword and shield.

  But that was William for you—quirky, sometimes cantankerous, but a standup, pretty awesome guy.

  Only a short while later, I couldn’t say how I found myself outside in the snow-covered backyard after saying goodbye to Jenna and William and wishing them well on their tropical vacation. There’d been a whole lot of love and coupling going on inside that house and I’d needed to grab a break and collect my own thoughts.

  Here I was with the cold biting my cheeks and my eyes watering—me hugging myself in my too-thin sweatshirt. The inadequate clothing was my own damn fault for jumping outside on impulse, I guess.

  It was the last day of the year. I was in a house full of my closest friends, and yet… I was feeling philosophical and indulging in the need to be alone with the quiet and my thoughts. Reflecting on the future.

  Still trying to figure out what I really wanted. I knew it certainly wasn’t what I’d been living the past few years—parties, dating, wallowing in loneliness. It was time to move on. Time to grow, evolve. Time to shit or get off the fucking pot, already.

  Shall auld acquaintance be forgot… no. No I couldn’t forget. And I didn’t want to.

  I pulled out my phone and sent a simple, short text.

  I know it’s been the new year for hours over there and you’re probably sleeping it off but… just wanted to wish you a happy new year. I hope it’s a good one for you.

  With a lump in my throat, I pressed send on the message to Connor before I chickened out. We were still in touch every so often, but it wasn’t like it had been. And I’d been the one to pull away.

  With a sigh, I blew out a breath, looking up at the glowing white mountains in the darkness and the field of stars twinkling above it. The crisp, cold air swirled around me, and I felt energized, alive.

  Suddenly, all around me, noise.

  Horns honked. People shouted and yelled. Some banged pots and pans, others blew air horns. And just above the resort in the valley—which I could watch from my perfect vantage point—fireworks flashed and cracked over Whistler village as the wind brought the distance sound of crowds cheering. It was midnight on the west coast.

  I felt connected to the world and yet detached, an observer.

  I had a good feeling about this year. About the things we’d all been through. Things were changing, yes, but not necessarily for the bad.

  I turned my eyes toward the north, and caught the tiniest glimpse of green along the horizon, my first glimpse of the Northern Lights. I wondered if Adam and Mia could see them where they were, too.

  Smiling, I silently wished them a happy anniversary, turned, and went inside.

  Chapter 33

  Adam

  It wasn’t every day that I was served a full course dinner prepared by a Michelin starred chef in a secluded mountain cabin and yet, here we were. And it most certainly wasn’t every day that I celebrated my first wedding anniversary with my incredible wife either.

  This was a once-in-a-lifetime day.

  We’d been brought to this private retreat house via four-wheel drive, and then a horse-drawn sleigh across a smooth field of snow to an intimate, cozy cabin, all set up for us. Our meal was transported via snowmobile from a nearby kitchen where it was prepared.

  And now we sat at an elegant table with a white damask tablecloth beside a fireplace as the short day faded into evening. A shy but friendly server was our only other company until she’d take her leave after bringing out dessert. And then, we’d be here, alone in the quiet, to spend the night together. No cell phones. No television. No Internet.

  Just my beautiful wife and me.

  A year ago today, we’d married on a tropical island in the Caribbean. This year, we were high in the snow-covered mountains. I half wondered where the second anniversary would take us. And the third? The tenth?

  We’d have to get creative if we were setting the bar this high already.

  Over appetizers—foie gras on toast with pear and caramelized onion—we made small talk. Discussed the accident with Kat on the slope and shared our concerns. Talked a
bout the trip in general and mused over some of the more memorable moments—the phantom bear attack by the hot springs being our biggest laugh.

  This week, we’d had some fun times, made some great memories, and even, after the years we’d been a couple, learned something new about each other.

  We learned that there was never a finish line, never one fixed point that defined a happily ever after. That happily ever after was a thing to be guarded with vigilance, that took work and communication to maintain.

  My god, were Emilia and I finally grown-ups?

  We didn’t end up really digging into the meat of matters until, ironically, we were cutting into our Beef Wellington paired with a delicious Bordeaux.

  “So.” I flicked my eyes up at her as I popped a piece of meat in my mouth and chewed.

  She looked up from her plate. As always, she was stunning. Her long dark hair had been brushed out, draped across her shoulders in loose mahogany curls. Her tight blue dress was giving me all kinds of dirty thoughts about what I wanted after dessert. And the simple gold jewelry with the diamond pendant I’d given her for Christmas glistened at her throat in the candlelight.

  She raised her brows to prompt me to continue. So I took a breath and did. “About that list…”

  She rolled her eyes. “I burned the list. In our fireplace. I’m not afraid to admit that I enjoyed it.”

  I pointed to my temple. “It’s all in here, baby.”

  She smiled big, revealing her even, white teeth. “Is that why you went frantically digging through the dirty laundry in search of it?”

  I suppressed a smile. “The hard copy was a backup.”

  She gave me a wary look. “So what is it you want to say about the list before I politely change the subject?”

  “I think a list is a good idea.”

  She frowned, her mouth crooking. “I thought we’d been over this…”.

  I wiped my mouth with a napkin and held up a hand. “Just hear me out. I didn’t say that list. That list was the result of some random Google research I patched together in a panic within hours of having my phone cruelly seized—” Her brows raised in warning. “I mean, before I happily and voluntarily turned over my phone.”