Chapter 33 Tish
TISH
The lodge feels different tonight.
Maybe it’s the twinkling lights I strung around every doorway and window, or the garland draped along the rustic wooden beams.
Maybe it’s the enormous Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with blue and gold ornaments to match the Thunderwolves colors, or the mistletoe I strategically hung in several doorways.
Whatever it is, the tension that’s been suffocating us for the past few days seems to have lifted, at least temporarily.
I smooth down my red sweater dress and survey the room with satisfaction.
The ugly Christmas sweater party was exactly what we all needed.
Players mill around in the most ridiculous holiday sweaters I’ve ever seen.
Ash’s features a light-up Rudolph nose that actually blinks, while one of the defensemen sports a sweater with a 3D Santa belly that jiggles when he moves.
Even some of the girlfriends who could make it out here are wearing equally hideous creations, and everyone’s laughing for the first time in days.
The film crew hovers at the edges of the room, their cameras capturing every moment, but I’m trying my best to ignore them.
Tonight isn’t about the documentary or the team’s reputation or any of the drama that’s been following us.
Tonight is about Christmas, about family, about finding some joy in the middle of all this chaos.
“Mama, look!” Becky runs up to me, her dark curls bouncing as she points to the dessert table. “Krystal and I made snow angels in the powdered sugar on the cookies!”
I glance over to see tiny handprints in the sugar coating several sugar cookies, and I can’t help but smile. “That’s beautiful, sweetheart. But maybe we should leave the rest of the cookies for everyone else to eat?”
Krystal appears beside Becky, her red hair catching the firelight.
She’s been so much more outgoing since she and Becky became friends, and seeing her smile makes my heart warm. “We saved you the best ones, Miss Tish,” she says shyly, holding up a perfectly decorated Christmas tree cookie.
“Thank you, honey. That’s very sweet of you both.”
The girls scamper off toward the hot chocolate station, and I watch them go with a mixture of love and relief.
At least they’re having fun, blissfully unaware of all the adult complications swirling around us.
I make my way through the room, checking on the food tables and making sure everyone has what they need.
The virgin punch and hot chocolate station is popular with the few family members who made it out, while the adults gravitate toward the spiked eggnog and the variety of alcoholic beverages I set up on the other side of the room.
The balance seems to be working. Everyone can enjoy themselves at their own comfort level.
“Ho ho ho!” Carl’s booming voice fills the room as he makes his rounds in full Santa regalia.
The red suit fits him surprisingly well, though I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing when he first put it on.
There’s something incredibly sexy about seeing this gruff, serious man playing Santa Claus, his silver hair peeking out from under the red hat, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief behind the fake beard.
He catches my eye from across the room and winks, and I feel that familiar flutter in my stomach.
Even dressed as Santa, Carl Zoren has an effect on me that I can’t seem to shake.
“Having fun?” Jake appears beside me, his green eyes bright with alcohol and amusement. His ugly sweater features a reindeer in a compromising position with a Christmas tree, and it’s so inappropriate I can’t help but laugh.
“Where did you even find that sweater?” I ask, gesturing to his chest.
He grins, those dimples appearing. “Online. Had to special order it. Worth every penny to see the look on your face right now.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling. This is the Jake I fell for, playful, charming, able to make me laugh even when everything else is falling apart. “You’re terrible.”
“Terribly handsome, you mean.” He leans closer, and I catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the scent of spiked eggnog on his breath. “You look beautiful tonight, Tish. Red is definitely your color.”
Heat creeps up my neck at the compliment and the way his eyes linger on me.
I’m about to respond when Ash appears on my other side, effectively boxing me in between the two of them.
“The party’s a success,” Ash says, his brown eyes scanning the room. “Everyone needed this.”
“I’m glad,” I say, hyperaware of how close both men are standing to me. “We all needed a break from the tension.”
Ash’s gaze meets mine, and there’s something intense in his expression that makes my breath catch. “You did good, Tish. Really good.”
The approval in his voice sends warmth spreading through my chest. Coming from Ash, who doesn’t give praise lightly, it means everything.
The evening continues with games, laughter, and more drinks than I probably should have had.
I’m not much of a drinker normally, but tonight I let myself indulge.
The spiked eggnog is dangerously smooth, and the festive atmosphere makes it easy to keep reaching for another cup.
By the time the babysitter takes Becky and Krystal up to bed, I’m feeling wonderfully loose and relaxed.
The film crew finally packs up their equipment and leaves, much to everyone’s relief, and gradually the party winds down.
Players drift off to their rooms with their girlfriends or alone, calling out “Merry Christmas” as they go.
Soon it’s just the four of us, me, Carl—who’s shed the Santa beard and hat but still wears the rest of the ensemble—Jake, and Ash.
We settle onto the enormous bear skin rug in front of the fireplace, the only light in the huge room coming from the dancing flames.
I’ve drawn all the curtains closed to ensure our privacy from any lingering cameras or prying eyes.
The fire crackles and pops, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
Christmas music still plays softly in the background, and outside the snow continues to fall in fat, lazy flakes.
It’s like something out of a Christmas movie. Cozy, and intimate, and perfect.
I’m curled up on the rug with my legs tucked under me, my fourth or maybe fifth cup of eggnog in my hands.
The alcohol has made everything soft around the edges, and I feel giddy and free in a way I haven’t in years.
“This is nice,” I say, looking around at the three men who have somehow become so important to me. “Just the four of us, no cameras, no drama. Just…nice.”
Carl chuckles, his blue eyes warm as they meet mine. “You’re a little drunk, Trisha.”
“Maybe a little,” I admit with a giggle. “But I don’t care. It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m with…” I’m not sure how to finish that sentence. With what? My friends? The men I’m falling for? The complicated situation that’s going to explode in my face eventually?
“Santa Baby,” starts playing through the speakers, and I gasp with delight. “Oh, I love this song!”
Before I can think better of it, I’m on my feet, swaying to the music. The room spins slightly, but I don’t care.
I feel free and happy and reckless.
I sing along, moving closer to Carl with exaggerated sultry movements that make all three men laugh.
Carl’s eyes darken as I dance around him, and I can see him fighting a smile behind his trimmed beard. “Trisha…”
I sing the next verse, running my fingers along the red suspenders he’s still wearing and emphasizing the call for a visit.
Jake and Ash are both watching with intense expressions, their laughter fading as the atmosphere in the room shifts from playful to something much more charged.
I can feel their eyes on me as I move, and it sends heat coursing through my veins that has nothing to do with the alcohol.
I glance at the antique clock on the mantle and gasp. “Oh! It’s 12:01! Merry Christmas!”
The words tumble out of me in a rush of excitement and alcohol-fueled boldness.
Before I can second-guess myself, I lean down and press my lips to Carl’s in a soft, sweet kiss.
He tastes like eggnog and something uniquely him, and when I pull back, his eyes are dark with desire.
“Merry Christmas, Carl,” I whisper.
I turn to Jake next, my heart pounding as I lean in to kiss him too.
His lips are warm and familiar, and he responds immediately, his hand coming up to cup the back of my neck before I pull away.
“Merry Christmas, Jake.”
Finally, I turn to Ash.
His brown eyes are intense, almost burning as I lean down to him.
When our lips meet, there’s an electric current that runs through me, and I can’t help the small sound that escapes my throat.
“Merry Christmas, Ash,” I breathe against his lips.
The silence that follows is thick with tension and possibility.
All three men are looking at me with expressions that make my pulse race, and I realize that something fundamental has just shifted between us.
The air feels like the moment before lightning strikes.
Carl reaches up and gently pulls me down onto the rug between them, his hand warm on my wrist. “Trisha,” he says, his voice rough, making my stomach flutter with…what? Desire? Anticipation? Both?
Jake moves closer from his side while Ash shifts on the other, and suddenly I’m surrounded by them, their warmth and scent and the intensity of their gazes. The firelight flickers across their faces, and I can see desire burning in all their eyes.
“We should probably,” I start to say, but my words are cut off as Carl’s hand comes up to cup my cheek.
“Should what?” he asks softly, his thumb brushing across my lower lip.
My breath catches as Jake’s hand settles on my lower back, his touch burning through the fabric of my dress.
Ash’s fingers find mine, intertwining our hands, and the simple contact sends electricity shooting up my arm.
The Christmas music continues to play softly in the background, the fire crackles in the hearth, and outside the snow falls silently. But inside this room, inside this moment, everything is heat, and want, and the promise of something that will change everything between us.
I look from one face to another.
Carl with his silver hair and intense blue eyes.
Jake with his boyish charm and dangerous smile.
Ash with his quiet strength and protective nature.
Three men who couldn’t be more different. Three men who have somehow all captured pieces of my heart.
“Merry Christmas,” I whisper again.