Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Kolby
I always thought the best sounds in the world were a body crashing into the boards – particularly one I put there – and hearing the buzzer go off for that game winning gino – or goal to those that aren’t hockey fluent.
But now?
Now, I know the truth.
Nothing could ever be better than hearing Destiny and Oakley laugh.
Doesn’t matter if it’s at me or with me as long as it’s around me.
I swear to the bench boss upstairs it’s that type of shit that gets you hyped at warmies. And focused in between the hard miles. And that you pump through the speakers in celly on your way home from earning The Fucking Cup.
It’s the most perfect sound in the world.
And now that I’ve heard it?
I’m gonna do everything I can to never let it go.
“Kolby!” screeches the woman on the other end of my phone.
However…on the glover?
One of my least favorite sounds – aside from a shitty timed whistle blow – is my sister-in-law shouting.
It’s like being yelled at by Princess Unikitty.
Slater may never admit it out loud, but he agrees.
It was written all over his face the first time I pointed that shit out.
“Kolby!” Arley Wahl shrieks for a second time. “Answer me!”
“What uh…” I move up in the cookie line at the same time I search for clarification, “what was the question again?”
“Forfuckssake,” she unhappily huffs. “Where. Is. Slater?!”
“Slater?”
“My. Husband.”
The word alone has me glancing over my shoulder to the woman I wouldn’t mind calling me that someday and wistfully sighing, “Yeah…”
“Your. Big. Brother.”
“Oh, right!” Angling my body to keep a more permanent watchful eye over the pair at the picnic table – who seem to be in the process of picking out a Band-Aid to apply to Oakley’s forehead – is done in between answering. “Workin’.”
“What?!” An unexpected shuffling sound has me momentarily leaning the device away from my ear. “What do you mean he’s working!? You two said you were going shopping!”
“We were!”
“What do mean you were, Kolby?!”
Not sure I should be the one to explain the situation – even if it was my fault he got involved – leads to me rushing to end the call before I fuck around and say something else I shouldn’t.
“I kinda need to go…” The woman in front of me steps to the side to receive her order. “It’s my turn in line.”
“Line for what exactly?”
“Cookies.”
“What?!”
“We’ll be home in the next hour or two.”
“Hour or two?!”
“Three tops.”
“Wh-”
“See ya then.” Abruptly hanging up acts as the perfect segue to placing what I’m going to go ahead and label is a bar down type of order. “Lots of everything. And I mean lots.”
The young, cute, big tittied redhead flops her hands on her hips in a flirty fashion. “Did you really go through your first order already, or are you just looking for an excuse to come and see me again?”
Six hours ago?
I would’ve been open to the idea of giving her a white Christmas.
Too bad for her my heavenly coach above had other, bigger, brighter, better plans for me this holiday.
“My cookie team grew in size,” kicking my thumb over my shoulder encourages her to get a better idea of my single yet not so single situation, “so, naturally, I need more gear.”
“Ah,” states the young woman, disappointment poorly kept out of her tone and gaze. “He’s cute.”
“Agreed.”
“Bet you’re a great dad.”
I wanna be…is right on the tip of my tongue, but I swap that reply for a simple grin.
“Let’s see what we can fit in the biggest container we have…” she sweetly announces prior to summoning over another volunteer for the assist.
One giant tray of overflowing cookies, toppings, and hot chocolates later, I’m proving just how silky my mitts are – aka my hand skills – by not spilling a single thing in the transferring process.
The instant Destiny sets eyes on me, she gets up in preparation to score herself an apple – an assist – only to be met by a polite headshake of denial.
Gently placing everything down is done just as she asks, “What do I owe you?”
“Nothin’, Peppermint.”
“Not nothing.” Her head tilts slightly in disapproval. “This had to be expensive.”
“It wasn’t.”
“You know it was.”
“What I know is that the booth operates on donations and volunteers only, so technically, this was all free.”
And the five-hundred-dollar donation along with a promise to swing by the youth sports center was just me showing my gratitude.
“Wahl-”
“Kolby,” I firmly correct and gingerly place the smallest mug in front of her son. “Careful, bud. It’s still pretty hot.”
“Thank you!” Oakley happily exclaims.
“Anytime, kiddo.”
To my surprise, his expression immediately falls. “Bud.”
“Huh?”
“I like bud,” he confidently informs on an adjustment of his crooked glasses. “Not kiddo.”
“I can co-sign on that.” After placing the plate of Christmas shaped treats on the table, I meet Destiny’s stare, revealing the mirth swimming in mine. “And Mom-”
“Stop calling me Mom.”
“But you are Mom,” Oakley insists, basically putting an invisible A – for Alternate Captain – on his sweater to let me know he has my back.
She presses her lips together to prevent herself from mouthing off.
“Yeah,” I continue to tease while placing the bowls of various candies on display, “you are Mom especially around Bud.”
Destiny does her best to resist letting her demeanor soften.
“Mom, he wants me to call him Bud, and I want you to call me Kolby.”
“What about when I see you at the barn?” She inquires prior to pulling her mug over to her.
“What about it?”
“That’s when everyone else calls you Wahl.”
“You’ll still call me Kolby.”
“Actually, to be more accurate, the team calls you WonderWahl.”
“Dad says your job is to protect him like a brick wall,” Oakley innocently announces.
Yeah, well, if he had anything to do with this little dude briefly getting kidnapped, I’m gonna be putting his ass through a brick wall instead.
“It’s one of my jobs,” I state and settle into the space on the opposite side of the table from them. “It’s also to protect the tendy who protects the house.”
“I wanna be a tendy!” he gleefully announces, smile stretching from ear to ear. “I even asked Santa for alllllll the gear!”
There’s no use in fighting the wide mouth grin his excitement instills. “Is that right?”
“Yeah! And a special painted bucket too! Dad says it’s never gonna happen…
” The drop in his tone digs the earlier ache back up.
“That I’m never gonna be a good goalie or any kinda goalie or hockey player…
’cause I don’t skate good…” His entire frame begins to sink lower to the ground.
“He says that I should just give up…And like…do…space stuff or something else.”
Oh…
I’m gonna check his ass. So. Fucking. Hard. At our next practice.
“But Mom says I can be anything I wanna be!” Oakley unexpectedly pops back up. “And that she believes in me! And that I gotta believe in me too!”
“Moms are the greatest coaches of all time, Bud.” I push a paper plate in front of him and wink. “Never forget that.” Giving Destiny an eyebrow wiggle is executed before declaring, “Time to get to work, team!”
Oakley and I grab ornament shaped cookies from the pile while his mother snatches up a present.
Plastic spoons are passed around by Destiny next.
Unlike Oakley who seems to be playing a round of glop and go with all the colors, I struggle to spread the thick globs across the tiny pallet in the form of stripes.
Each stroke builds frustration and frustration is immediately fought by shoving an untouched spare cookie into my mouth on an announcement about needing to carbo load.
Playful comments from Destiny about the mess I’m making on myself as much as my plate are easily laughed off.
Met with a M however, it seems like we all do whatever we can to stretch it.
Clean up is slow due specifically to allowing Oakley to show off how his speed skills of running from the table to the trashcan and back – nearly face planting four times – while wrapping up the cookies is even slower because of the buffering protection “needed” not to have the cookies crashing into one another, messing up the designs for Santa.
We take the longest route away from the rink to the parking lot, which has us wandering through the decorated area, closeness a requirement as opposed to an option, courtesy of the overcrowded paths.
After our earlier encounter, Destiny decides to cradle Oakley to her chest rather than let him walk on his own and her protectiveness of him instantly prompts my protectiveness of her.
Pushes me to gently place my hand in the middle of her back to wordlessly announce I got her.
Them.
Convinces me to tuck myself in a little closer so that he can see I’m a real d man.
That I’ll protect a tendy no matter his size.
By the time we make it to her SUV, my new pal is passed out on her shoulder, creating a tiny rink of drool near her neck.
She mouths the request to grab the keys from her fanny pack and carefully shifts him upward to grant me easier access.
I hit the unlock button, open the door behind the driver’s side, and hover defensively close during the buckling of Oakley into his car seat.
Afterward, I hand her the plate of cookies to place in the empty area beside him and step back to give her enough space to shut him safely inside.
The second Destiny’s fingers begin to reach for her handle, I slyly intervene on a shake of the head. “No, ma’am. That’s a gentleman’s job.”
She hits me with her signature playful smile, giving me another dose of what is sticks down the best present of all time. “Is that what you are?”
“Among other things,” smoothly leaves my lips at the same time I pull open the door. “Smart choice parkin’ under the streetlight, by the way.”
“Yeah, contrary to the way this evening went, I don’t really make a habit of putting my son in danger.”
“Can’t promise I won’t make a habit of helpin’ him stay out of it in the future.”
A beautiful, bright crimson shade colors her complexion on a whispered, “Thanks again for helping me get him back, Kolby. And keeping me calm. And buying us cookies. And telling him he can play hockey. And be a tendy. And just being the best but weirdest, unexpected date ever.”
This time it’s my face that’s reddening.
“Was this – I mean is this – No. Wait. Does this count – Should this count – No. Wait. Wait. Wait. What just happened – You’re sayin’ that we just…
” The words trip so hastily over one another I swear it makes my eyes cross.
“Does that mean…you’ll…That we can…” struggling to find the correct words exponentially increases in difficulty. “Should I-”
Destiny’s mouth suddenly crashes against mine to end the faceoff over words, and the second they’re there, my hands possessively cup her warm cheeks, wanting and needing to anchor onto the moment, unsure of when as much as if I’ll ever get another chance.
Quickly parting her lips grants me access to the flavors lingering on her tongue, turning every swipe into the only tasty holiday treat I ever wanna indulge in.
Greed collides into anxiousness while anxiousness skates straight into obsession pushing me to roll the slippery wet muscle around and around and around, doing effortless laps in the new rink I’m determined to never leave.
Pretty sure this is it for me.
This kiss is much more than just my Christmas wish come true.
It’s the beginning of a new season in my personal life.
And that season will most certainly include a teammate’s ex-wife as well as his almost kidnapped son.
* * *
Thank you for reading The Kiss (A Dalvegan Dragons Christmas Novella)!