Hockey Holidays

by Toni Aleo

  “My boss is probably freaking out,” Ella murmured, pulling out her phone. “No signal.”

  He slid his phone from his pocket. “Me, either.”

  “You should know, I'm the social media person for the Kingsnakes Holiday Charity Carnival.”

  “Then we'll be seeing each other a lot.” God, he wanted to bury his fingers in that thick, beautiful hair. He missed touching her so fucking bad.

  Ty cleared his throat. “Are you going back home to Ontario for Christmas?”

  “No. I’m on my own for the holidays this year.”

  The elevator hummed to life, and Ella glanced up as the car began to ascend. They stood, and when it stopped on the twelfth floor, he picked up the jersey and the drink tray.

  Ella let out a deep breath as they stepped into the hall, then dragged her hands over her face.

  “Hey, we're okay,” he said gently.

  Ella brushed off her skirt, then took the drink tray from his hands. “I'll tell my boss you're here.”

  “Ella, wait.”

  “Please. Let's just get through today,” she pleaded. “I can't handle anything else.”

  She hurried inside and left him standing in the hallway.

  He'd need to work his ass off to win back her heart. Harder than he'd ever worked for anything. But he was up for the challenge. This was Vegas, and even with the odds stacked against him, he wasn't going to fold.

  Chapter Three

  Ella went directly to Lina's office and explained that she'd gotten stuck in the elevator.

  “Jeez. Are you okay?” Lina asked.

  Ella set down the drink tray. If Lina only knew how okay she wasn't.

  “I got stuck with Tyler Quinn, the hockey player. He's up front.”

  “Yikes. Okay, thanks.”

  Lina headed to the lobby, and Ella returned to her cubicle. She wished she had a door to close so she could have a good cry.

  Ty wanted her back.

  She couldn't even wrap her head around that.

  Seeing him had shattered her. Oh, her heart. Her bruised, battered, beaten heart. How was she supposed to get through this project?

  Forcing it from her mind, she tried to concentrate on her work. An hour passed before Lina came back—with Ty in tow.

  “Ella, the organizer of the Kingsnakes Holiday Charity Carnival sent over a ticket for you to attend tonight's hockey game. I'd like you to talk to the wives who are helping with the event. You'll be sitting with them. Get some pull quotes for the website piece.”

  “Piece?” Ella asked, confused.

  “I'd like you to write an article about the Carnival for our website, with a bend toward the Foundation. Ty's visiting the children's hospital in a few days. You’ll go with him and take some photos.” Lina glanced at her watch. “I have a meeting in fifteen, and I need another coffee. Will you walk Ty out?”

  “Absolutely.” She'd be professional even if it killed her.

  Ty gave her a sideways glance once they were in the hallway. “She really sprung that on you, eh?”

  “You think?” Ella jabbed the elevator's call button. “I'll never make it to the game on time later tonight. I have to go home after work and change, then call a car service.”

  “No vehicle?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Look, El, I don’t mean to change the subject, but do you want to grab some lunch after this coffee run? We need to talk.”

  Ella squeezed her eyes shut. Opening this door was dangerous.

  “We've already talked.”

  The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside.

  “Please?”

  She'd said that word over and over the night he'd broken her heart. Please, tell me what's wrong. Please, don't do this.

  But he'd remained silent—and he'd stayed silent for the year and a half after they'd split. Until his supposed recent attempts to contact her.

  Ugh, she couldn't deal with this right now.

  “I can't.”

  The elevator opened to the lobby, and Ty gently took her by the elbow as they stepped out. “Then let me take you home after the game.”

  “Quinn—”

  “Come on. It’s just a ride. Let me get you home safely.”

  Ella's eyes grew misty. “That's not your job anymore.”

  “Never gonna stop,” he said gruffly, tipping her chin up. His fingers lingered, tracing softly along her jaw as she stared up at him, frozen in place by his touch.

  Ella backed away, her brain managing to override her heart. She had to get her bearings around him so she could do this job.

  “Fine. But it’s just a ride home, nothing else.”

  “Okay.” He held out his phone. “You'll need to know where to meet me after the game.”

  She reluctantly entered her new number into his contacts and handed it back.

  Ty's gaze swept over her body as their fingers touched, from her bare legs, back up to her face, lingering on her lips a little too long.

  She knew that look well. It was usually followed up with achingly hot kisses, ending with him buried deep inside of her.

  Her thighs clenched at the memory.

  “See you tonight, El.”

  Damn.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  Ella descended the stairs of the Nevada Arena, quickly getting swept up in nostalgia—the chill in the air, the bright lights, and the faint scent of popcorn. She found her row, and two women gave her a friendly wave.

  “You must be Ella Wilkinson from Brynnley L. Morrow,” said a petite woman wearing silver glasses. Long, red hair hung almost to her waist. “I'm Zoe O'Bryan. My husband, Ryder, is the Kingsnakes' captain.” She pointed to a blonde woman sitting next to her. “This is Penn Foster, fiancée of goaltender West Keller. We've taken the reins with the Carnival, so we're your go-to contacts. Quinn said you'd be here tonight.”

  Ella smiled and shook their hands. “Nice to meet you both.”

  “You brought a jacket,” said Zoe. “Good. It gets chilly sitting near the glass.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by driving, bass-heavy music. The Kingsnakes exited the tunnel for warmups, skating around their zone in a blur.

  Instinctively, she searched for number fifteen—Ty's number. He stopped next to the glass, and when their eyes met, the corners of his mouth turned up in a sexy smile.

  She forced herself to look away, shifting her attention back to the two women.

  “Oh! You're the Ella,” Penn said softly. “Your hair. I should have known.”

  Ella frowned. “Sorry?”

  “Last year, Quinn approached me at Zoe and Ryder's wedding. I had my back turned, and he mistook me for you. He looked… broken-hearted.”

  “Penn, this isn't our business,” Zoe said.

  “It's okay.” Ella had been around enough WAG's to know these two were sincere. “We were together for three years before we broke up. I didn't know he played for Vegas. It's been an awkward day, finding out I'm covering the Kingsnakes Carnival.”

  Zoe gave Ella a sympathetic look.

  “How can we make this easier for you?” Zoe asked.

  Ella glanced toward the rink. “Not sure that's possible.”

  “Let's go upstairs to the Desert Lounge,” Zoe suggested. “We'll talk there.”

  “You don't mind? I'm just overwhelmed. Quinn's supposed to drive me home tonight. After seeing him today…”

  “Come on,” Penn said. “The game is on upstairs. We can sit in one of the corners and chat.”

  “Thanks.” She'd need all her strength to get through the ride home. Sitting next to him, breathing in his scent, and looking into those dark, intense eyes…

  Ugh. She needed a drink.

  Ella spent the next few hours with Zoe and Penn, chatting and gathering information on the Carnival.

  “Game's been over for thirty minutes. We should probably head to the family waiting area,” Zoe said.

  “I'm not family,” Ella protested.


  “You’re with us.”

  Ella followed them to the lower level, but when they arrived at the family room, she decided to say her goodbyes and wait for Ty in the hall.

  A stylish, fitted black suit hugged Ty in all the right places as he walked down the hall toward her fifteen minutes later.

  “Hey.” He flashed a bright smile, instantly making her weak in the knees.

  “Hi. Congrats on the win,” she said, following him to the parking garage. The Kingsnakes had beaten St. Louis 4-2.

  “Thanks. I've got the silver pickup.” He led her to the passenger side and held open the door.

  The truck reminded her of the one he'd owned when they'd first met. They'd spent many summer nights in each other's arms in that truck, going too far, too fast. The memory made her pulse race.

  Ella gestured at the truck. “Can't take small-town Ontario out of you, eh?”

  Ty laughed. “So, where to?”

  “My cousin Wendy's house. She's on vacation for the holidays, but I'm staying there while saving up for my own place.” She gave him the address, and he punched it into the navigation system as he pulled out of the parking lot.

  “I didn't see you after warmups,” he said, glancing over at her.

  “I went to the Desert Lounge with Zoe and Penn.”

  He slid his suit jacket off at the next stoplight. His tattoo sleeves were visible through his shirt and extended all the way up the side of his neck.

  “New ink?” she asked.

  “Some.”

  “You look really fit.”

  “Varied my workouts. More intense training during the summer.” He paused. “So, El, I hate that you’re spending the holidays alone. I’m not going back to Canada for the three-day Christmas break. Maybe we could spend the holidays together.”

  She turned in her seat to face him. “Are you freaking kidding me, Quinn?”

  “No. I just thought that you might not want to spend Christmas alone.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Ella said firmly.

  He sighed. “The offer stands if you change your mind.”

  After fifteen more minutes of awkward, casual conversation, they arrived at Wendy's house. He pulled into the driveway and cut the engine.

  “I don't need an escort to the door,” she protested.

  “I'm a gentleman.”

  “It's not necessary.” Ella climbed from the truck and hurried up the walkway, pausing to dig for her keys. Ty followed, then let out a hiss of breath before grabbing her elbow.

  “Did you lock the front door?” he asked.

  “What? Of course.”

  She glanced up to see the front door standing wide open. He slid her behind him in one fluid motion before stepping forward.

  Panic stole through her, and she grabbed his hand. “Ty, no!”

  Well, at least she'd finally fucking called him Ty.

  “It's okay, Bug. I'm just going to turn on the light. Is there a wall switch?”

  “Yes.”

  He felt for the switch, then flicked it on. It confirmed his suspicions—the house had been robbed. Papers were strewn around, furniture upended, and drawers were pulled out and overturned. The Christmas tree had been toppled, its star shattered.

  Ella glanced around in horror at the mess. “Oh, no.”

  Ty tugged her toward the truck and helped her in, then locked the doors as he called 911.

  “This is awful,” she murmured.

  “Thank God you weren't home, El.”

  “If I hadn't gotten that ticket tonight…”

  Ty's stomach churned at the thought. “But you did.”

  The police arrived a few minutes later, and they met them at the squad car. The officers cleared the house before allowing them inside, then started a report.

  “Your cousin, the homeowner, needs to call with this case number when she returns,” a female officer told Ella, handing her a piece of paper. “We'll be able to respond and get a list of missing items directly from her. The button lock appears to work for this door, but the deadbolt's mangled, and you'll need to get that repaired. I'd recommend staying elsewhere until that's complete.”

  The officers recommended a security system, took a few more notes, then left.

  Ella closed the front door behind them and stared at the broken deadbolt. “I should check my room.”

  Ty followed her upstairs, and Ella paused at the first door on the right, peeking into the room. “My credit cards are gone.” Ella dashed forward, hurrying toward the dresser. “Oh, no.”

  “What's wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

  She rooted through a drawer and let out a soft cry. “It's gone!”

  Ty approached her slowly, placing a hand on her back. “What's gone?”

  “My engagement ring.”

  “It's insured, El. It can be replaced.”

  Her lower lip began to quiver. “But it was the only thing I had left of us.”

  Oh, fuck.

  Ty tilted her chin up with his fingertips. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, “it doesn't have to be. We can—”

  “No.” Ella shook her head. “You should go. I have to call Wendy and book a hotel.”

  “With what credit card?”

  She covered her face with her hands. “I have my bank card, but—”

  “I have a guest bedroom.”

  Ella looked horrified. “I can't stay with you!”

  “Where will you go? Do you know anyone here?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “No. I've only been here a few months.”

  “Look, you can lock yourself in my guest bedroom if you want.”

  “Stop.” She held up both hands. “I'll go with you, okay? Just stop being so, so… nice!”

  Ty blinked. “So you'd rather me be an asshole?”

  “Yes! No! I just don’t… ugh!” She let out a frustrated squeak and flounced into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Ah, well. At least she'd be somewhere safe for the next few nights. That's all that mattered.

  Chapter Four

  Ella clutched the handle of her suitcase and followed Ty down the hallway towards his condo. He unlocked the front door, and when she stepped inside, she froze.

  The artwork she'd created when they'd been dating hung on every visible wall.

  “W-why?” she stammered.

  “Because it's not home without your art.”

  For what felt like the umpteenth time today, her eyes filled with tears. She needed to escape. “I'm tired. Show me to my room?”

  “Sure.” He chucked his keys in a bowl nearby. “Guest room is on the right. Bathroom's on the left. My room is at the end of the hall.” He touched her arm. “Do you need anything?”

  “No. I'm fine.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. “Okay. Try and get some rest.”

  After he'd gone into the living room, Ella grabbed her things and fled to the bathroom. She changed into her pajamas, tied back her hair and washed her face, desperate to cleanse away the day. Tossing the damp towel onto the sink, she stared into the mirror, her stomach churning.

  How had she even gotten here?

  She headed back across the hall and climbed beneath the covers. Agony knifed through her, sure and sharp. Ty said he wanted her back, but believing that he was serious was difficult. After all, he'd waited over a year and a half after ending things before even trying to make contact.

  Why had it taken him so long to realize their relationship was worth fighting for?

  Ella rolled over and squeezed her eyes shut. No, she'd be a fool to trust him blindly.

  A fool in love.

  Which of course, she was.

  The next morning, she woke early and got ready for the day. It was only 7:00, and she wasn't sure of Ty's schedule. She settled on the couch and flipped open her laptop to do something she hadn't done in two years—search for information on Ty. She loaded the search page and typed in his name.

  Traded: Can Quinn overcome his i
njury-prone status in Vegas?

  Falanov injury shuffles Kingsnakes lines; Quinn moved from center to wing.

  Quinn shines in Western Conference Final

  A move to wing and up to the second line? She felt guilty for not paying more attention last night. Ty lived for hockey, and the Kingsnakes seemed to be an excellent fit for him.

  “El?”

  Ty stood nearby, cotton sleep pants riding low on his hips, his chest bare. Ella's cheeks pinkened as she took in his lean, muscular body. His hand slid down to his toned stomach, and she forced herself to look away.

  “Mind if I make breakfast?”

  “Sure.” He went into the kitchen and pulled out a blender. “Smoothie?”

  “Okay. Scrambled eggs?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Five minutes later, they sat down across from each other at the table with their plates. After a few minutes of small talk, they fell into a comfortable silence while eating their meals.

  “You don't have any decorations up,” Ella said, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Christmas is less than a week away.”

  “Haven’t had time,” he admitted. “I probably won’t put up my tree until Christmas Eve.” He took a sip of his smoothie, then glanced at her. “El, I need to talk to you about something. It's important.”

  God, she wasn't sure she could handle an intense discussion right now. “I'm not awake enough for important conversations.”

  “Okay, later then.” He met her gaze. “You know, you're the only woman I've had here.”

  “Ty—”

  “I don't remember the last time I slept with someone.”

  “Stop,” she pleaded. That was the last thing she wanted to think about right now. “It's not my business.”

  “I want it to be your business.” He hesitated. “You said you slept with other men.”

  Ella stood and scraped the remains of her breakfast into the garbage. “Was I supposed to stay celibate?”

  A pained expression crossed his handsome features as he stood up from the table. “Who, El?”

  “Ty, please.”

  “Just tell me.”

  Ella crossed her arms. “Sebastian Stone.”