Eleven.
Nick
I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun ice skating. Joy is giggling her pretty little head off and I haven’t stopped smiling for the last forty-five minutes. She’s trying her hardest, but the woman has zero balance whatsoever. It’s adorable.
We’ve made it around the entire rink a total of four times and she’s fallen at least seven—including her face plant into, well, my dick. It didn’t hurt, thankfully, if anything it had me growing before thinking. Her hot breath fanning through my jeans had me wanting to drop to my knees instead of her.
The memory dries up as Darcy zips past us for the hundredth time, twirling as she does. I try not to let her presence affect my mood, but it’s difficult when she’s intentionally showing off like that .
“She’s really good,” Joy comments, her forearm locked around mine as we watch Darcy jump and spin mid-air with ease.
I grunt.
“Why does she call you Nicky?” she asks quietly.
“Because she knows I hate it.” I sigh. “She didn’t start until after we broke up.”
She nods, gliding with her legs locked as I push my feet to propel us forward. After the third time around the rink, she said she liked this better. And since I like having her close—as in, clinging to me for dear life—I’ve been coasting us along for some time now.
She’s having fun, and that’s all that matters to me.
“Why did you break up? If you don’t mind me asking.”
That’s been the question on my family’s mind for the last two years. They adored Darcy in the beginning. Until her true colors started to shine shortly after my uncle’s sudden passing. “Nothing was ever good enough for her. She always wanted more,” I say, muttering to add, “She still does.”
Joy looks startled by this news. “But she’s so…”
“Fake,” I deadpan. “Everything about Darcy is a persona, a facade. Her and Eric are a match made in heaven, or hell, depending on how you see it.”
She faces ahead, her brow doing that little furrow it does when she’s thinking something over. I’m starting to love that look. And I feel like kicking myself for all the times I didn’t notice it before. All the times I didn’t notice her .
“When, um…” She hums, thinking hard about whatever is on her mind.
I chuckle. “What’s got you so deep in thought, angel?” It’s the second time I’ve called her that, and each time it’s given me these damn butterflies in my gut. Why? What is it about her that keeps stealing my attention? She’s got me wrapped around her ring finger. Quite literally.
I could have thought of anyone else yesterday. Anyone . Yet, she was the only one roaming around in my subconscious. Has she always been there? How long have I had the thought of being with her tucked away?
I come around the bend a bit faster than I should and realize a second too late. Joy’s legs wobble as she fights to keep them under her. Then they’re not.
The blades of her skates slip sideways and smack into mine, sending me down with her.
We land with a thud on our asses.
“He’s down!” Rich calls out laughing, and I look over to find several members of my family watching with amusement. I don’t usually fall, having played junior hockey for a time in my youth. I’m sure they’re all getting a kick out of this.
Joy hisses, grabbing where her hip and butt meet.
My pulse skyrockets into concern. “Shit. You okay?” I ask, getting to my feet before reaching out to help her.
“Need a hand?” Natalie smirks, steering Tucker’s red ice scooter rental beside us .
Joy grips the edge as my sister holds it steady for her to stand. She looks up at me, still smiling despite falling so many times, but her smile feels forced this time. I wouldn’t doubt she’s sore by now.
“I think I’m about done,” she says quietly with the cutest scrunch of her nose.
I nod. Most of my family have been off the ice for a while. Rentals are good for an hour, and we’re cutting it close to the dinner reservation my mother made for our whopping table of fifteen.
I slowly guide us off the ice. I pay close attention, this time, and try not to let my head wander any deeper into my feelings toward my assistant. Tuck those away , as they say. Thankfully, Joy’s exit is much smoother than her grand entrance onto the ice.
We’re under the covered area, peeling off our skates, when I ask her, “So, what’d you think?”
“It was fun.” She blows out a breath. “A bit bruising, but fun.”
I chuckle. “You did well for a first-timer,” I say, gathering our skates while she tugs on her boots. “We’ll have you trying out for the Maple Leafs in no time.”
We find our group shortly after and walk the two blocks to my parents’ diner of choice. Dinner is filled with conversation and laughter. The food is phenomenal. I’ve got a gorgeous woman at my side to enjoy it all. And when Eric shows up late, even he can’t ruin my mood.
By the time we leave the diner, the sun is set and the street lights are on. The family disperses with a promise to meet up in our usual spot to watch the ceremony together. “Ready to walk around?” I ask Joy as she tucks her scarf around her neck and chin. “We’ve got another hour before the tree lighting.”
“Ready,” she beams, taking my hand in her mittened one.
We walk through the park at the center of town, stopping at various vendors selling everything from handcrafted ornaments and jewelry to homemade fudge and caramel popcorn. Joy stops at several, perusing and conversing with the owners, asking if I see anything I like. Her holiday spirit is infectious and I decide to indulge in a few of my favorite traditions.
“Buckeye fudge,” she reads from the container I chose. “You were pretty quick to grab this one,” she teases.
“That’s because it’s the best combination of chocolate and peanut butter you’ll have in your entire life.” I grin, taking the container from her and popping it open. I pull out a small square and bite it in half, offering her the rest.
She smiles as she leans in to take the bite-sized piece into her hot, wet mouth. Soft, lush lips graze my bare fingertips and a low growl builds in my throat. She must hear what she’s doing to me as heat flashes in her eyes. Her bold tongue sweeps over the chocolate smeared on the tip of my finger in such a lewd manner, I suck in a breath. The image of her on her knees taking my cock to the back of her throat fogs my mind.
“Nick, Joy.” Our names are called somewhere nearby, breaking the spell—for Joy, anyway. Not for me. My gaze doesn’t leave her as she steps back, covering her mouth and peering around us as she slowly chews.
She turns back to me a moment later, swallowing. “They’re waiting for us. We should, um, probably go…” Her words trail off, hazel eyes flicking between me and whoever seems to be waiting on us.
“They can wait,” I say. My hand slides over her hip to her lower back, pulling her flush against me. My cock reacts to her nearness. Her perfume. Her rosy cheeks and bright eyes to the gasp leaving her lips. What the hell am I waiting for?
“What are you doing?”
“Giving my fiancée the attention she deserves,” I growl.
My lips crash onto hers in a searing kiss that leaves me wondering if ol’ Saint Nicholas could help convince a certain vixen to let me unwrap her this Christmas.