A Merry Little [Hat Trick] Christmas

by Samantha Wayland

  Rhian looked back at her and frowned before turning his focus to tea-making instead. When he brought her a mug and stood holding his, still fully clothed and looking uncertain, she peeled back the blankets.

  “Come on. We’ll get you back to your room before dawn and no one will be the wiser.”

  He didn’t move. “Really?”

  She sighed, understanding his hesitation, and knowing she should be feeling it herself, but not caring either way. “Yes, I’m sure. And hurry up—all the warmth is escaping.”

  Rhian was down to his boxer briefs and beside in her in record time. The smile on his face, and the tension she could feel easing from her own body, told her she’d made the right call, even if it sucked thinking about how they couldn’t do this all the time. Or, really, at all. Tonight had to be an exception.

  With that in mind, she snuggled close, tucked right up under his arm as they called Garrick. He looked surprised to find them together, but he didn’t say anything about it, and his warm smile and roving eyes told her he liked seeing them this way. They stuck to their usual subjects—the flight that morning, practice that afternoon, the game tomorrow.

  After a series of quiet goodnights and a frankly embarrassing number of “I love you”s, they hung up. Rhian turned off the lights, set his alarm for ass o’clock, then slid down in the bed facing her, their knees touching.

  Savannah was tired all the time these days, but she was also sleeping better than she had in ages, so she had some energy left in the tank tonight. She used it wisely, reaching out to draw her fingers down Rhian’s chest, enjoying the soft skin and firm muscles as they twitched beneath her touch.

  Rhian let out a huff of quiet laughter and disbelief when she curled her fingertips into the waistband of his boxers.

  “Really?” he asked.

  Her only answer was to kiss him and tug his shorts down over his hips.

  They’d been together long enough that this part was…well, easy wasn’t the right word. But familiar. And maybe simple. She knew what worked for him. He knew they both wanted it to be quick and quiet. It was only a matter of seconds before her hand was wrapped around his cock, teasing him erect while he eased one of her legs over his hip and tugged her panties aside.

  They didn’t even have to stop kissing. The awkward days of instructions and needing verbal feedback were in the past. Not that they didn’t still revert when trying new things or one of them just felt like telling the other two how they felt or what they were going to do to them. Hell, yes, they did. But tonight, the hum against her lips, the wriggle of her hips, was all the feedback needed.

  She’d been thinking about doing this since the second or third time she’d caught Garrick’s eyes drifting down over them both. If she had to guess, Garrick was probably spread out across their bed right now, jerking off while imagining what they were up to. Maybe he was picturing exactly this, her hand running the length of Rhian’s shaft and tugging a quiet moan out of him, his index finger tracing exquisite and tormenting figure eights over her clit, again and again.

  Her hips twitched against his hand and he smiled against her lips.

  She thought about crawling under the covers and sucking him into her mouth, but when she looked down, his fingers threaded into her hair, tilting her head back up and capturing her mouth with his as his hips began to work in time with her hand.

  Somehow he managed to do this while keeping up a steady, constant flick against her clit.

  Goddamn, it was good to be with a professional athlete, she thought with a wry smile that was mostly lost to their kiss.

  She circled her palm over the head of Rhian’s cock on her next trip up and found it wet, knew it would be going from pink to red as his need grew. She slipped her other arm down between their bodies and cupped his balls, rolling them against her palm as she started jerking him a little tighter, a little faster. He finally lost his rhythm with his fingers, which meant he was close.

  Savannah slid two fingers back, tracing along the seam of skin behind his balls, then pressed up hard.

  Rhian ended their kiss with a gasp as his back arched and he came all over Garrick’s shirt. Savannah stifled a giggle as she looked at the mess. She wished she had her phone handy so she could send Garrick a pic. That would definitely help him with whatever fantasy he was working on, if he wasn’t done already.

  Rhian took him a minute to regather himself, but once he had, he smiled softly at Savannah and then meticulously took her apart. She buried her face in her pillow to muffle the sounds he drew from her as his thumb tormented her clit and two fingers pushed deep into her pussy and pressed against her g-spot. She could hear him quietly laughing at her when she bit the pillow, but what else could she do as his pinky wriggled its way into her ass?

  Her orgasm washed over her, making her moan as he teased the ripples from her body until she was shaking against him and pushing weakly at his arm.

  She slept better than ever that night.

  Chapter Four

  There was nothing Seamus Lynch loved more than having his family under his roof. Who that included had changed a lot over the past couple years, but only for the better. There was not one ounce of him that regretted having found Rhian and being part of his life.

  He smiled, his heart full of love and contentment, as Rhian bickered happily with his sister, Chelsea. No one would ever guess they hadn’t grown up together. Maybe there was just something inherent in being siblings. Something that made the fire light in Chelsea’s eyes and the devil dance in Rhian’s. Chelsea had never had this kind of connection with her other brother, Buddy. Nor with her mother. Indeed, she’d always seemed happiest when she was with friends or with Seamus. And now, with Rhian and his partners, too.

  Garrick and Savannah were watching the bickering with similarly fond smiles on their faces, laughing at Rhian’s attempt to convince his sister that dating a hockey player would be a huge mistake. He obviously didn’t have much of a leg to stand on, since he was one, and he was dating two hockey players, both of whom obviously adored him. If Seamus had to guess, Rhian’s worry was not entirely faked, but he also was putting up the good fight because he could. He wanted to be Chelsea’s protective older brother. And Seamus’s devoted grandson. And Savannah’s and Garrick’s doting husband.

  In truth, it had taken Rhian a while to get comfortable with these roles, and some days Seamus could still see the struggle. Tonight, Rhian was wrestling with something, though Seamus wasn’t sure what. Asking Rhian would be an effort in futility, and Seamus thought he could guess what might be the issue, anyway.

  Seamus knew what it meant when Savannah went pale at the mere sight of the pâté and crackers. Pâté that Seamus had taken to keeping in house because she liked it so much. Pâté that tonight had turned her positively green when it had come close enough for her to smell. Garrick had been subtle enough in moving it away again, and Rhian had barely tripped over his own feet bringing her a plain cracker and making sure her water was within reach, but Seamus saw. He knew. And it was all he could do to contain himself.

  Seeing the guarded way Rhian kept watching all of them did put something of a damper on Seamus’s spirits. It had been some time since Rhian had felt the need to be so cautious.

  In spite of this, dinner was still fun, the talk light-hearted and without any major announcements, sadly. Chelsea seemed determined to cheer Rhian up, and that did seem to help, but never completely erased the shadows lurking in her brother’s eyes. When dinner was over, Seamus sent everyone through to the parlor again, but at the last moment, put his hand on Rhian’s arm and held him back.

  “What’s wrong?” Rhian asked, his look wary.

  “Nothing’s wrong, my boy. Nothing at all.”

  “Okay, do you need something?”

  “No, not really. I just wanted to tell you…” Seamus realized he probably should have thought about this a little more before diving in.

  “What?”

  But then again, Seamus knew wha
t he wanted to say. All he had to do was put words to what he felt every time he saw Rhian.

  “I wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you,” he began, and knew it was overdue by the shocked expression on Rhian’s face. He should have been saying this every chance he’d had.

  “Uh, thanks,” Rhian said, looking pleased but also desperately uncomfortable.

  “You are a good man, Rhian. You’re kind to your family and your partners and strangers alike. I hope you know that any one of us here would do anything for you. Anything you asked or needed, we would give to you if we could.”

  Rhian’s face fell and he reached out to grab Seamus’s arm, startling him. It was unlike Rhian to initiate any kind of touch. “Are you okay?” Rhian asked, his voice surprisingly haggard.

  “What? Me?” Seamus asked, confused. Then he realized what Rhian must think. “Oh, no! I’m fine, son. In perfect health still, for which I’m deeply grateful. You’ll not be rid of me any time soon, I promise.”

  Rhian swayed as the tension left his body all at once. Seamus felt terrible for scaring him, but also shamefully pleased that Rhian had been so affected by the thought. He wasn’t an easy man to read, and trying to get him to talk about his feelings was akin to pulling teeth, which was precisely how Seamus was about it most of the time, too.

  “You’re not alone anymore, Rhian. You never will be again. I can’t promise to live forever, but you have Chelsea, and Savannah and Garrick. You’ve built yourself a strong and happy family, and I know you will keep doing that.”

  Rhian glanced out the door toward the sound of voices coming from the other room. “I will,” he said, though the frown on his face wasn’t all that reassuring.

  “Yes, son, you will,” Seamus said firmly. “And we will be with you every step of the way, if that’s where you want us.”

  Rhian turned to look at Seamus. “I do want that. You and Chelsea mean more to me than…I didn’t get how it could be, until I met you. How family worked.”

  Seamus smiled and squeezed Rhian’s arm. “I’m glad. I know our family has its issues, to say the least,” Seamus admitted, leaving it there in order to skirt bringing up Rhian’s mother and brother, “but Chelsea and I love you, and I’m sure the Morrisons offer you ample examples of how a family can and should function.”

  Rhian managed to keep eye contact when he said in a gruff voice, “I love you, too,” and Seamus couldn’t fault him looking away after that. It was just as well, as it gave Seamus a chance to scrub the sting from his own eyes.

  And to think, he’d thought he couldn’t be any prouder of Rhian.

  Seamus cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I just wanted to make sure you knew that. Perhaps now we should join the others.”

  Rhian did a fair job of not actually leaping through the door, but didn’t completely mask how eager he was to get back to his partners and sister.

  Once in the parlor, they settled in to chat for a while before dessert. While Seamus hadn’t thought the cure for whatever was on Rhian’s mind would be Seamus getting emotional on him, he had hoped it would settle him for a bit. It did not. Indeed, Rhian almost seemed worse.

  Desperate for a fun topic, Seamus grasped onto the plans for his annual holiday party.

  “Did you all send me a list of people you’d like to invite to the Christmas shindig?”

  Chelsea said she had. Garrick assured him that his family would love to attend but wouldn’t be in the area for the holidays. Savannah, who was curled up in one of the deepest, most comfortable chairs in the room, smiled at him. “I spoke to my family about it, and they all informed me that they’d already received invitations.”

  Seamus shrugged. “Well, you mentioned they were all coming to town. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course! Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

  Seamus beamed. “It’s my pleasure, sweetheart.” He turned to Rhian. “And what about you? Do you have any friends you’d like to invite? Everyone is welcome.”

  “That’s okay, I’m good,” Rhian said quickly.

  “None of your teammates?”

  “No. That’s okay.”

  Savannah and Garrick exchanged a look behind Rhian’s back.

  Seamus persevered. “What about Jean-Michel? Or Noel? Or Henri? I thought you were close to them. I’d enjoy meeting them outside the rink.”

  Rhian smiled thinly. He managed to sketch a shrug, despite the bow of his shoulders. “Sure. I mean, I guess it won’t make any difference if I invite those guys.”

  Garrick shifted to get a better look at Rhian’s face. What the hell did he mean by it won’t make any difference?

  No one else seemed to know what to make of it either, so it hung in the air for a long time before Seamus, a master of keeping the conversation rolling, shifted them all into a new topic.

  Garrick resisted the urge to sigh. Rhian had seemed so much happier and more relaxed when he and Savannah had come home from their road trip yesterday. Maybe he hadn’t completely shaken the funk he’d been in, but he’d been a lot better. Garrick had figured the night in Savannah’s room had helped, though he wasn’t clear on exactly why. And now he wasn’t sure if the change in Rhian had even been real, or just a figment of Garrick’s very hopeful imagination.

  Because now Rhian was practically vibrating out of his skin with tension.

  Seamus stood. “How about dessert?”

  Savannah almost purred. “Yes, please.” Her sweet tooth had been cranked to full tilt for the better part of the past month. It was kind of cute, since at work she still pretended she was toeing the line, diet-wise, as an example to her team. The moment she got home, though, she was often found digging in the pantry for the Oreos.

  Rhian was clearly putting on a brave face. They always lingered at these dinners, and Rhian was usually the most reluctant to leave. Not tonight.

  Garrick stood. “I couldn’t eat another bite. That dinner was too good and I overdid it. I was thinking I might take a walk around the old neighborhood. Check out our old building. Rhian, you want to keep me company?”

  Rhian leaped to his feet. “Yes. Sure. I mean. Yes.”

  Garrick barreled through the awkward silence that greeted Rhian’s enthusiastic agreement by throwing his arm around Rhian’s shoulders and pulling him to the foyer to get their coats, and then out the door.

  It was a nice night, cold and crisp, and it smelled like snow, which was fairly overdue at this point in December. Garrick loved how Boston, and the Beacon Hill neighborhood in particular, looked blanketed in snow. At least until he had to drive in it, anyway.

  He and Rhian walked slowly along the ancient brick sidewalks, keeping their gazes down to make sure they didn’t trip on the uneven surface. It was late enough, and cold enough, that there was almost no one else around, and everyone was bundled up so much as to be unrecognizable, including him and Rhian.

  The next time Rhian’s hand brushed his, Garrick threaded their fingers together.

  There was a moment, no longer than the time it took Rhian to suck in a deep, audible breath, that their hands stayed together, then Rhian yanked his away. He edged further from Garrick on the narrow walk, putting a foot of space between them.

  “What the hell was that?” Garrick asked incredulously.

  “Nothing.”

  Garrick was fucking confused, but he knew one thing for certain. That sure as hell wasn’t nothing.

  A sick lump congealed in Garrick’s stomach. Up until this very moment, he’d never once believed that Rhian might want out. Right now, though, that seemed like a distinct possibility.

  “Do you…are you thinking about leaving?” Garrick asked, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

  Rhian reacted as if Garrick had shouted the question. He jerked to stop and spun toward Garrick so fast he stumbled.

  Garrick caught him without thinking, then instantly recoiled, but instead of being rebuffed, again, Rhian grabbed onto his sleeve so hard it made Garrick’s arm ache.

&
nbsp; “No,” Rhian gasped, pulling Garrick closer, his eyes wide and terrified. “No…I’m not…no. Not ever. I can’t believe you—you thought I would ever…”

  The color drained from Rhian’s face, until he was alarmingly pale. He was having a hard time breathing, his chest jerking and shuddering as he gripped Garrick harder, cutting off the circulation in his upper arm.

  Garrick grabbed Rhian’s other arm. “Take it easy, Rhian. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” he said, his voice thin as he sucked in short, sharp breaths.

  Garrick searched around them and then shoved Rhian toward the narrow opening between the rows of townhouses. The moment they stepped into the ink-black shadows of the alley, he pushed Rhian against the wall and pinned him there with his entire body.

  Rhian looked up at him with wide, damp eyes and Garrick’s heart hurt. It had been months, maybe a year, since Garrick had seen Rhian fall apart like this.

  “You’re okay, Rhi. I love you. I’m right here.”

  “Do you and Savannah want me to go?” he asked, his voice high.

  “God, no. No, Rhian. Please don’t think that. Not for a minute. I just overreacted to you not wanting to hold my hand. See, it even sounds dumb saying it. You’re okay. We’re okay,” he said firmly, pressing his face to Rhian’s so that their cold cheeks warmed against one another.

  “I’m so sorry,” Rhian whispered.

  “For what?”

  “For making you think—for being so weird recently. You and Savannah have been putting up with a lot from me, and I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he said gently, though maybe that wasn’t strictly true, given that they’d arrived here. “We know you’re working through some stuff. We want to help you, but you have to tell us what’s going on. You have to let us in.”

  Rhian nodded quickly, but remained silent.

  Garrick could be patient a little longer, so he refrained from reminding Rhian that they were working on a timeline that none of them could change at this point. They had months—about six, to be exact—but it would be super if Rhian got his shit together long before that.