Chapter 11 Only Ours
ELEVEN
Only Ours
YANA
The kitchen smells incredible. Like roasted chicken, garlic, onions, tangerine, and the dressing for the salad I threw together.
Camden’s at the stove, wearing nothing but low-slung sweatpants, stirring the sauce like he’s a contestant on a damn cooking show.
I’m not exactly sure what his goal is—to make a perfect mushroom cream sauce or to make me horny. Right now, horniness is winning out.
“Has anyone ever told you, Red, that you’re bossy?” he mutters. “It’s just sauce. Stop acting like we’re cooking for a Michelin-starred restaurant.”
“This may not be a fancy restaurant, but the sauce is for our Christmas dinner, so it should be perfect.” I sidle up beside him, my shoulder brushing his.
Smiling, he shakes his head, a sense of ease rolling off him.
Logan hums “Last Christmas” while he chops vegetables, way too pleased with himself. I wander over to him and steal a cherry tomato from under the knife.
“Hey!” He turns to look at me, eyebrows pulled together. “Behave yourself. I could have cut you.”
I bump my hip against his. “I’m the queen. Have you forgotten? I can do anything I want.”
Chuckling, he tips his chin to Camden. “Looks like being with both of us has gone to her head, don’t you think?”
Camden flexes one arm, making his muscles bulge. “Have you seen us, man? We’re catches, and she snared us both. Red has every reason to be smug.”
I tap my bottom lip. “‘Red’ and ‘Queen’? Suddenly, I feel like a character from Alice in Wonderland.”
“What does that make us, then?” Logan snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me to his side. The heat of his naked chest sends a delicious thrill down my spine.
“Good question. If I’m a queen, who are you?” I tease as I melt into him.
Snickering, Camden turns off the stove. “Your kings. Obviously.”
“What he said.” Logan kisses my temple.
I slip out of his hold, pick up the Olivier salad, and wander to the dining table. The Russian potato salad is a holiday staple in my family. I’m thousands of miles away, but making the familiar side dish makes me feel like I’m carrying a piece of home with me.
I can’t stop myself from smiling when I return to the kitchen and find Logan popping a spoonful of the sauce Camden made into his mouth.
“That’s good,” he says. “I didn’t know you could cook like that.”
“I can’t.” Camden shoots me a look, eyes burning into mine. “It’s only good because of Yana’s guidance.”
“Ah. Makes sense.” Logan sighs. “She makes everything perfect.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” I waggle my brows at him, then meet Camden’s gaze. “Both of you actually.”
The man with the dark, messy hair gives me a smoldering look. “I think I speak for us both when I say your bed is the only place we want to be.”
Snorting, I pick up the plate of roasted chicken. “I never would have guessed you’d be so cheesy.”
“Me neither, dude.” Logan claps Camden on the shoulder as he picks up a stack of plates.
“If you prefer my default version, when I’m a total asshole, just let me know,” Camden taunts as he adds the sauce to the mashed potatoes.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Logan barks out a laugh, following me out of the room.
Candles flicker, causing shadows to dance on the walls around us. Our plates are clean, and the second bottle of red wine is half empty. Jokes and conversations are flowing, and my mood is lighter than it’s been in months. Maybe a year. All thanks to these two men and the atmosphere they create.
“Remember how my mom always bakes cookies on Christmas Eve?” Logan asks Camden. “And how she always ends up burning at least a dozen of them?”
“She may ruin the first batch, but the rest are delicious.” Shrugging, Camden lifts his glass to his lips. “They never last more than a day or two.”
Logan laughs. “That’s the truth. Lucy loves them the most. She’s literally bribed Dad and me to share our cookies all her life.”
“She suckered me into it a few times too,” Camden adds, giving my knee a gentle squeeze. “I never say no to your little sister. Hell, she’s practically my little sister too.”
“Yeah, she loves you, and so do my parents. You should come with me the next time I fly home.” Logan drapes his arm over the back of my chair and traces his finger over my shoulder. “Don’t shut us out, Cam, please.”
“I won’t.” He nods, his lips pressed into a straight line. “That’s actually what my granny told me, not long before she…” He sighs and swallows thickly. “She reminded me that even though I might not have any blood relatives left, the Reid family will always welcome me like one of their own.”
“We will. You’re like a brother to me.”
Tears prick at the backs of my eyes, and a wave of warmth spreads through my body, filling me with happiness. It’s so good to see them bond like this, to witness the way they’re opening up to each other.
“Hey, Queen?” Logan leans closer, wiping a tear that escaped without my permission. “Is everything okay?”
“More than okay. I’m happy for you. It’s like this was meant to be. You two were meant to be stuck together like this so you could really talk to each other. Without secrets.”
“You’re right. This snowed-in situation really brought us closer.” Logan sighs, then looks at Camden. “You know what I miss about your granny?”
A loud snort springs out of Camden’s mouth. “Her pierogies?”
“Damn right.” Logan crosses an ankle over his knee. “They were delicious.”
I peer over at Camden, my elbows on the table. “Pierogies? Was your granny Polish?”
“She was. She moved to the US from Kraków when she was eighteen. Her name was Katarzyna, but my grandpa always called her Kasia. He was American, and he loved her more than anything.”
“Have you ever been to Poland?”
“No.” He shakes his head, ducking a little. “But I always wanted to.”
I grin at Camden, then at Logan. “We should go. I’ve been to Poland so many times. I’ve seen almost everything there is to see, and I love it. I’d be happy to go with you.”
“Great idea.” Camden smiles warmly at me. Then he fixes his focus on Logan. “Will you come with us?”
“Ha. As if I’d ever leave you two alone any longer than I had to.”
“Afraid of a little competition?” Camden angles in and quirks an eyebrow.
Logan lifts a shoulder in an easy shrug. “Nope, because there is no competition. And it’s not our call to make anyway. If Yana wants us both, she wants us both. And I, for one, am okay with that.”
“Works for me.” Camden gives my knee another gentle squeeze. “What about your family? Any holiday traditions?”
“Yeah, other than the Olivier salad?” Logan drags his fingers in circles over my skin.
The fire their touches have ignited within me grows stronger. It heats my skin and makes my center throb.
When Camden notices the way I’m clenching my legs together, he gives me a smug smile.
Cheeky asshole.
“Well.” I clear my throat. “We used to decorate the tree on December 24th. Mom says that it creates a magical atmosphere and helps to prepare for the New Year. It adds to the experience. Dad always hid candies between the branches. It drove Mom nuts. We don’t do the whole stocking thing, and we don’t have any elves on shelves.
This one confused the hell out of me the first time I heard about it, but I think I kind of get it now.
We do have a Ded Moroz—he’s like our version of Santa Claus.
And we typically wake up on January 1st and open gifts. ”
“Does your family eat anything else as incredible as the Olivier salad?” Logan asks, bringing his glass to his lips.
“Mashed potatoes, bread with caviar, homemade pickles, along with two or three salads my mom makes. But the best part has always been my granny’s Napoleon cake.
It’s literally the most delicious dessert I’ve ever had.
No matter what I eat or where I eat it, her cake will always be the food I love the most.”
“Nice.” Logan smiles. “I hope one day I can try all that too.”
“Same,” Camden chimes in.
The adoration in their expressions causes heat to creep into my cheeks. And as weird as it sounds, making plans, the three of us, feels absurdly normal. It feels right. Like I belong with these two men who I’ve only known for a couple of days. Like this is exactly how it should be.
After we’ve cleaned up and the dishes are done, I lie on the fluffy rug in front of the fireplace with Logan on my right side and Camden on my left, talking about anything and everything—practices, tournaments, countries we’ve visited.
Until Logan turns and props his head on his knuckles, his focus on me suddenly intense.
“What?” I ask, my pulse skyrocketing.
“We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
Camden mirrors Logan, peering down at me. “And what are we going to do once we leave?”
I bite my bottom lip and consider what I want and how this could work, but I’m being put on the spot.
I’ve been living in the moment, not worrying about the future.
Not yet. So I say, “I don’t want to choose.
I like you both, a lot. If you think we can make this work, I’d be more than willing to try. ”
While they assess each other, quietly communicating, I wait, nervous and excited at the same time.
“Like I said this morning,” Logan murmurs, “if I’m going to share her, it’d only be with you. We make a great team, on and off the ice, and I have a feeling it’ll be even better in bed with this gorgeous woman between us.”
Camden chews on his bottom lip, hesitation in his eyes.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I clench my jaw tight. It will hurt a shit ton if he says—
A low rumble of laughter escapes him, leaving me stunned. What the hell?
“I see the fear in your eyes, Red. Did you really think I’d say no?
” Cam looks from me to Logan and back again.
“I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m with you.
It doesn’t matter if I’m sharing you with my best friend or fucking you in the back seat of your car.
I want you, and I don’t want you to have to choose.
Or maybe…” He hovers closer, his hair falling over his forehead. “I want you to choose us both.”
“Always,” I whisper.
“Then you’re ours now.” He places his lips on mine, kissing me softly. “Only ours.”
Once Camden pulls back, Logan takes my hand and helps me to my feet. He lifts me into his arms and carries me bridal style down the hall to my bedroom.
Camden follows a moment later, having switched off the gas fireplace.
The two of them stand in front of me as I sit on the bed. Shoulder to shoulder, dressed in nothing but sweatpants. Eyes darkening with desire, they study me as if I’m their prey…but also something precious.
They are admiring me.
“A little Christmas present for us, maybe?” Logan teases.
“The best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.” Camden breaks into a sinful smile and drops to his knees. “One I plan to devour tonight.”
“I think you meant to say we.” Logan sits beside me on the bed and cups my cheek with his big, calloused hand.
“Definitely we.” Camden plants a kiss on my knee. “Because she’s ours.”
As Logan pulls me in for a kiss, Camden works my leggings down my hips. Instantly, all my senses are on high alert, and anticipation courses through my veins.
In this moment, I think I understand what magic really feels like.