Snowed In with the Quarterback

by Christy Pastore

  My fingers splay against my forehead. “No. I’m at a holiday party. A cookie decorating party.”

  “What?” A bubble of laughter pops in her tone.

  “I know. It’s been a weird night. Remember last Thanksgiving when you, me, and Amanda loaded up the cooler with drinks and stuck Alex with the kids?”

  Amanda is my other sister-in-law. She’s married to my half-brother, Vince.

  Oh my God, Vince! He owns a whole damn private airline.

  Why the hell didn’t I think of this before? Because your mind was on other things.

  “Yeah,” she giggles. “That was so much fun.”

  “I don’t know why I’m just now thinking of this, but is Vince around? Maybe he can get me on a private flight home.”

  “Oh you didn’t hear,” Ella begins her voice drops an octave. “Vince and Amanda went to her parents’ place this year. Amanda’s sister died.”

  “Oh shoot, sometimes I forget about Julie. Julia?”

  Amanda’s sister Julia/Julie, maybe Jules is what I call a class-A bitch. And that word doesn’t seem harsh enough. Julia is basically responsible for Amanda losing years of her life—her career, her reputation, her relationship with her parents, and her inheritance. Long story short.

  “I can’t remember honestly. Amanda’s not saying much. I think she’s a little in shock. So what’s this story?”

  I walk further down the poinsettia decorated entry way and lean against the wall. “I’m with Spencer Ward.”

  “Hmmm. Oh! The American football guy that you’re in love with?”

  “I wouldn’t say in love...crush, maybe.”

  “Right. That’s why we drove over two hours to your old prep school with all those hard seltzers to look at the giant plaque on the side of the building in his honor. You’ve been pining for this guy forever. You told me yourself!”

  She has a good point. I did tell her that.

  “It was the booze talking.”

  Ella laughs. “Sweetie. You say whatever you need to make yourself feel better.”

  “You know what. I’m getting you coal for Christmas this year.”

  “Too bad your presents made it here before you. Jokes on you.”

  I laugh. “Ah. I miss you, Ella. Let me know if everything fits Will and Everly. I hope I can make it home by Christmas day.”

  “Miss you too, Amy.” She pauses. “Wait. How did you wind up at a holiday party with Spencer?”

  “He walked off his flight from Dallas at my gate. He didn’t want me to stay at the airport, so he offered to let me stay at his place. The party is a holiday bonus. Lots of fascinating people. One of the women here used to be a Rockette.”

  “Wow. Seems like fate...oh, a Christmas miracle.”

  “I don’t know, Ella. The more I think about it, our lives are so different. He’s here and I’m well, there.”

  “Nonsense. Get into bed with your hot quarterback already.”

  “I don’t even know if he feels the same way,” I hiss.

  “Maybe he’ll sneak into your bed tonight and cross the goal line.”

  Ignoring her comment, I come up with the excuse as old as time. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

  “What friendship? You haven’t seen the guy in person in like foooorrrreeevveeer. So jump his bones already.”

  “There will be no jumping bones.” My face scrunches. “What are you twelve?”

  “Well I plan to bone my hubby tonight,” she counters.

  “Ugh. I don’t need to hear about your sexcapades with my brother.”

  “Text me when you bang the hot quarterback. The countdown to banging is on.”

  My eyes close and I blow out a deep breath. “Merry Christmas Eve, Eve. I gotta get back to the party.”

  “Kisses. Love you, mean it.”

  I end the call and sag against the wall. Dammit Ella. She’s got me thinking of things I shouldn’t be thinking about. Like kissing Spencer.

  And having sex with Spencer.

  “Everything okay?” Spencer appears in the hallway. The glow of soft lighting passes over his handsome features. Holy heavenly yule log. Why does he have to look so good?

  “Yep. All good.”

  “We’re about to start the Christmas movie trivia game. Want to be my partner?”

  His voice sounds like rich buttercream frosting sliding over cinnamon rolls.

  “Sure thing.”

  He slings his heavy arm around my shoulders pulling me close. “I’m really glad you’re here, Amy.”

  Is it my imagination or did he say that in a maybe flirty kind of flirty way? Could Ella be right? Maybe there’s a reason I ran into Spencer after all this time.

  Maybe—but that’s the thing about super sexy guys like Spencer, they can have their pick of women. I’ve seen the women he’s photographed with on Page Six and in People magazine. Model types. Long leggy brunettes, red heads, and the occasional blonde.

  “Me too. This is a really fun party.”

  His fingertips brush against my arm. It’s too much.

  Or is it just the right amount?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Spencer

  It’s pitch black when I wake the next morning.

  Christmas Eve.

  Not really a surprise to see that it’s really coming down outside. I can barely see the town square.

  Usually I just walk around in my boxers, but since I have a guest I stop at my closet before leaving the bedroom. I pull on a pair of track pants and one of my many Renegades t-shirts.

  As quietly as I can, I walk down the hallway and past the guest bedroom. Amy’s nowhere in sight.

  The most delicious aroma pulls me towards the kitchen. Amy stands at the island, her dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.

  She’s wearing candy cane pajamas. It’s adorable.

  Amy’s eyes meet mine. “Good morning.” Her voice is low and raspy.

  “Good morning. What are you making?”

  “Cinnamon roll casserole. It’s my mom’s recipe and it’s amazing. I’m glad you had all the ingredients.”

  “And you made coffee too.” I grab a mug from the counter.

  “Yep. I hope you don’t mind me making myself at home in your kitchen.”

  “Not at all.” I blow the steam away from my mug and take a seat at the island.

  She nods towards the window. “Don’t think I’m getting out of here today.”

  “It’s doubtful.”

  Amy takes a piece of bread and tosses it into the mixture coating it all over like a piece of french toast. “I’m going to call the Embassy Suites near the airport and see if they have any rooms. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Amy.”

  “I’m sure you have plans for Christmas Eve and I don’t want to be a bother.”

  I shake my head. “First, my plans today include cooking, eating way too much, drinking, watching endless amounts of TV, and maybe get in the hot tub later.”

  Her mouth drops open. “You have a hot tub? Where?”

  “Outside on the balcony.”

  “No way.” She stops what she’s doing and rushes towards the windows. “Huh. Would you look at that. A freaking hot tub with a view. Too bad I don’t have a swimsuit.”

  “Who says you need one?”

  She blinks at me. “Unless you have a stash of women’s swimwear hanging and...gross if you do. I’m not getting in that thing naked for all of Hollybend to see.”

  “Okay.” I wave my hands in front of me. “I’m going to try not to be offended by the look on your face. In case you hadn’t noticed I’m Spencer Ward. I have a way of making things happen. And I know that sounds gross tossing around my celebrity powers especially on Christmas Eve, but I have very well-paid elves and a few who aren’t.”

  Her arms fold against her chest and she cocks a brow. “You have elves, huh?”

  I nod and swallow my coffee. “Yup. So if there’s anything you want all you have
to do is ask.”

  “And second?” she asks, striding back towards the kitchen.

  “Second what?”

  “You said first, my plans include...so what’s the second item?” Amy continues dipping the pieces of dough into the mixture and then placing them into the greased pan.

  “Oh, well that’s where you come in.” I tease.

  “Me?” Her blue eyes dance with confusion.

  “Yeah, you’re my Elf in Chief, remember? You said so last night. I’m holding you to the promise of decorating this place.”

  Once she’s finished, she pours the remaining mixture over the top of the casserole and then sprinkles it with pecans. I didn’t even know that I had pecans.

  “Okay. A promise is a promise. I’ll get working on that right after breakfast. Maybe there’s a Christmas tree lot open and we can go pick one out.”

  “Sounds fun. I’m supposed to do this charity event at the hospital today. Visit a few kids, sing some songs, and pass out gifts. I should be back by two. Then I’ll be cooking.”

  “More Bolognese?” she teases and opens the door to the oven.

  “Funny. Three cheese grilled cheese on Sourdough for lunch with tomato soup.”

  Her eyes light up. This was Amy’s favorite meal in high school. And I remember.

  “That’s my favorite.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I suck down the rest of my coffee.

  “Okay.” She steps up to the sink and washes her hands. “So what’s for dinner.”

  “You’ll love it, baked chicken and mushroom risotto. Or we can have homemade Sicilian pizza. Your choice, I’m prepared either way.”

  In between sips of her coffee, Amy scurries around the kitchen cleaning up and putting things away. “I’m a moody eater. Do you mind if we play it by ear?”

  “Sure thing.”

  My phone vibrates and I check the screen to see that it’s my assistant, Kandace. “I gotta take this.”

  “Okay,” she whispers. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Hey Kandace. Happy Christmas Eve.”

  “Happy Christmas Eve to you. The event at the Children’s Hospital is going to be a giant Zoom call now.”

  “Things are that bad, huh?”

  “Well, the snow is supposed to stop around noon, and the city is doing its best to get things up and running. But Mr. Silas doesn’t want to take any unnecessary risks. He’s rescheduled the in-person event for the twenty-sixth. I’m sending you all the details and adding it to your calendar.”

  “Thanks Kandace.”

  “You’re welcome. Have fun.”

  The call ends and my hands scrub down my face. A Zoom call. How disappointing for the kids. I refill my coffee mug and blow out a deep breath.

  I dial Donnie’s cell and he picks up on the second ring.

  “Hey man, what’s up?”

  “How bad do you think the roads really are, Donnie?”

  “I’d say they’re definitely slick. Road crews are out, desperately working on the city streets. They should be fine in a few hours.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” I run a hand through my long-ish hair.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The event at the hospital was postponed, and I was just thinking if I could do it safely, I’d show up and surprise them.”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t risk it. But if you need anything else you let me know.”

  “Thanks man. Happy Christmas Eve.”

  I end the call and set my phone on the counter. Stupid weather.

  Even though I’m sad about the event being rearranged I’m glad Amy’s still here. Now I need to find out her swimsuit size.

  Should I ask her?

  Or be covert about it, and find out on my own? Another option comes to mind.

  Me: Hey. What size do you think Amy might be?

  Ann: Probably a six if I had to guess.

  Me: Do you have any bikini’s in her size on hand?

  Ann is a fashion designer. If I’m lucky I can get gifts for people or if an emergency arises, such as the case with Amy not having a swimsuit.

  Ann: You’re in luck. I have two bikinis here that are a size six. I’m going to toss in a size four and a size eight as well. Does she need anything else?

  Me: Thank you. I’m not sure, yet.

  Ann: You’re welcome, sweetie. I’ll drop the box off in fifteen.

  The muscle in my neck spasms and sends a shooting pain down my shoulder and into my arm. The tingly feeling has me shaking out my arm, and just as I suspect the muscle is as hard as concrete.

  Fuck.

  I had a second surgery on my neck a week after we were eliminated from the playoffs last year. It was a new approach—single level anterior fusion.

  And while my doctor’s assured me that the results are overwhelmingly successful, I’m afraid that I’m in the unsuccessful category.

  I don’t know if I can do another surgery. Another round of rehab. It’s taking away my love of the game.

  My passion.

  My drive.

  So much for holiday cheer.

  The chiming of the doorbell pulls me away from my thoughts and I’m not surprised to find Ann holding a giant gift box with her brand logo on it.

  “She’s going to look fabulous in any of these.” Ann hands me the box.

  “Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it.”

  Her bright red lips curl into a devious smile. “So I take it you’re rekindling your romance?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  She cocks a brow and her arms fold over her chest. “This is the Amy, right? The one you say got away.”

  “Keep your voice down.” I step over the threshold into the hallway. “Okay, yes,” I hiss. “Amy is the one woman I’ve never been able to get out of my head.”

  Her hands clasp together and her eyes twinkle. “Oh and I’m absolutely certain that she feels the same about you. I saw the way she looked at you last night.” Ann sighs. “It’s Christmas Eve and romance is definitely in the air.”

  “Okay, okay. I know you’re a hopeful romantic, but what if she doesn’t find this gesture at all romantic?”

  Ann says hopeful romance sounds way better than hopeless. And she believes in the idea of love, but she knows the real world plays a factor.

  “You won’t know unless you try, hot shot. And I don’t think you’ll be surprised by Amy’s reaction to a little fun in the hot tub.”

  Looking down at the package, I blow out a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”

  “You’ve got this, Spencer.” Ann hurries off towards the elevator and I step back inside my apartment.

  My back hits the door and I stare down at the package. Maybe this is a crazy move.

  Relax.

  She doesn’t have a swimsuit and she’s excited about the hot tub. I round the corner and set the package the corner of the island.

  “Spencer?”

  Amy enters the kitchen wearing a black and white shirt paired with light denim jeans. She’s barefoot and her toes are painted red and white, like the stripes on candy canes. Her hair is still wet from the shower and she’s rubbing her face with moisturizer.

  “Hey.” I cock my hip against the island. “What’s up?”

  “Just wondering if you heard the timer, yet? But now I can see the timer has about four minutes left.” She twists the cap back on the jar she’s holding. “Oh did someone bring you a present?” Amy gestures to the box.

  “Uh, no. It’s actually for...for you.” I stumble over my words. “It’s from Ann.”

  “For me?” Her blue eyes light up. “That’s so nice of her. I wonder what it is.”

  Her fingers dance across the top of the box and pluck at the black ribbon.

  “Confession. I may have asked her to put this gift together for you.”

  Her brows pinch together, and she lets out a soft laugh. “You don’t need to give me a gift.”

  “Just open it.”

  Her hands slide the tis
sue paper away. When Amy plucks the red bikini top from the box my dick takes notice.

  Down boy.

  “Oh my gawd,” she whispers. “Wait this is a Jilly Ann design? Ann is Jilly Ann the famous fashion designer?”

  “Yeah.” I move closer to inspect the rest of the contents.

  Amy grabs another item from the box, a tiny bikini top that looks like a seashell. It’s very sexy.

  “Oh a scalloped bikini top and these matching bottoms are so cute.” Excitement slices through her every word. “I can’t wait to try these on.”

  “See I told you I have elves.”

  The fabric falls back into the box and her hands land on her hips. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize Ann last night.”

  “Well to be fair her hair is a lot longer and dyed much darker from her last public appearance.”

  Amy lets out a deep breath as she looks out the windows. “Yeah, the world stopped for way too long.” A small frown crosses her lips.

  “Hey. Snowstorm or not you and I are going to have a fun Christmas Eve. You up for that?”

  A smile replaces the frown. “Absolutely.”

  There’s no mistaking how her gaze lingers with mine for a heartbeat. And just like that, the oven timer beeps effectively breaking the moment.

  She slides around me and takes the casserole dish out of the oven. “Okay this needs to cool. In the meantime, I’m going to try these gorgeous pieces on.”

  “Breakfast and a show, lucky me.” I toss her a wink and I’m rewarded with a laugh.

  Amy picks up the box and saunters down the hallway. Those blue eyes. That smile. Her laugh. I hadn’t forgotten that laugh.

  Or the way she looks at me.

  It’s been a long time since Amy’s looked at me that way, but I’ll never forget how it makes me feel.

  No woman has ever made me feel the way Amy does. She is some kind of magic. Maybe we can create a little Christmas magic of our own.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Amy

  While Spencer joins the video call with his team, I clean up the kitchen.

  He ate three pieces of the casserole, which made me so happy. He ate like a starved man.

  I wonder if he screws like he eats.

  Wow. What a thought, and on Christmas Eve no less.