Page 23 of Santa's Pucking Hat Trick

“I don’t do it for her appreciation,” I told her with a shrug. I liked to think I’d do just about anything for my mother. And maybe that was a little too true, since just this evening at dinner, Ma had been asking so much about Sharon that I’d agreed to get coffee with her in the morning. I was almost trying to convince myself that it’d be okay, that it was worth it for Ma. “I’d do it for her anyway. She’s done everything for me, so this kind of thing is the least I can do.”

“You make the rest of us adult children look bad,” Rachel said, but her lip twitched up at the corner, so I knew she was being lighthearted about it. “My mom had to beg me to help with her charity gala, and then I only agreed to it by accident.”

“By accident?”

“I was…zoned out. Didn’t realize what I was agreeing to.” She winced. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you that.”

“Well, we’ve known each other a long time,” I pointed out. “I know Paula almost as well as my own mother. So I know she can be…tenacious.”

“That’s one word for it,” Rachel laughed. The nostalgia seemed to fall over both of us like a pleasant haze, erasing the awkwardness we’d initially felt. It even had Rachel’s lips loosening, which was such a relief, I almost wanted to kiss her when she started talking. “More like…pushy. But I can’t complain too much—I’ve got a pretty good family. And since I’m an adult now, my mom at least stays out of my personal life better than she does with anyone else in her social circle, so I guess I’m grateful she’s got a grip on boundaries.”

“Ha. Wish my mom would do that a little more,” I muttered, thinking again of my impending coffee non-date with Sharon.Rachel raised an eyebrow, not quite asking for elaboration, but I found myself wanting to share with her. Test her a little, though I didn’t know or wouldn’t acknowledge what exactly I was trying to test her on. “She, uh…she’s been hung up on my ex-girlfriend, Sharon. Ma loves her, so she can’t see why I ended things. Keeps saying I’m not happy since the breakup. Like anyone’s happy after a long-term relationship ends.”

“Oof,” Rachel said, her brow wrinkling with sympathy. “That…yeah, that sounds messy. Doyouthink you’re less happy without Sharon?”

The question took me off guard. I blinked, ran a hand over the back of my neck. Before Rachel could backtrack, though, I pushed through, wanting to cling to this rare moment of intimacy. Fulfilling some of my childhood dreams of being close to her, maybe, even just on this small level.

“I…it’s for the best that we broke up. Ma doesn’t know Sharon like I do.” Understatement of the century—Ma had no idea the shallow, oftentimes cruel woman I’d dated for so long out of fear that no one else would want me. I knew I hadn’t answered Rachel’s question directly, and that part of me didn’t want to admit that I wasn’t quite sure whathappywould look like for me, Sharon or not. I wanted to grind my teeth, and my next words came out a little strained. “I think Ma just worries I’ll end up alone without her help, and she’s really invested in having grandkids someday.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t think you’ll be alone,” Rachel said softly. Sweet as honey, and so, so too good to be true.

“Don’t get me wrong, Ma isn’t—she thinks I’m the greatest, obviously. Which is so nice. But Ma also knows me better than anyone, and even she can’t deny that with women, I’m…not exactly Roman Jett.”

Somehow, the air changed. Became colder, maybe, or somehow fraught with tension as Rachel suddenly looked awayfrom me at the mention of my friend and teammate. It was dark enough now, even under the streetlights, that I couldn’t quite tell if Rachel was blushing or not, but I thought that maybe she was.

Suddenly, Rachel took a step back. “It’s late. I should, uh, get back. Let you work on your decorating.”

Huh. Curiosity itched in my head. Was my mention of Roman the reason she was so keen on making her escape now? What on earth could that mean—and why did the thought that it meant anything kind of make me want to punch something?

“Alright,” I said slowly. “I…yeah, me too. It is late.” And I had to see Sharon in the morning before practice, so I really should be getting back to my place sooner rather than later. But I wanted to prolong this moment, the brief connection that might have been all in my head. So I blurted out, “Let me walk you back.”

Rachel looked puzzled. “It’s literally just next door. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Still, you’re headed to the guest house, huh? It’s kinda dark back there. You’re a woman alone.”

“That didn’t seem to bother you when you snuck up on me in a parking lot at night,” she teased, but there was camaraderie in it that made me smile a little.

“See? Even more reason I should make up for that now. Besides, my mother raised me to be a gentleman.”

She heaved a great sigh, amping up the drama of it to make me laugh a little more. Damn, it was surprisingly easy to laugh with her—different from how it was with her twin, my best friend, but no less comfortable. Rachel sounded pleased rather than begrudging when she finally allowed, “Alright, then. You can walk me to the guest house. Waste your own time as much as you like.”

Companionable silence replaced the awkward one at the start of our interaction as I walked alongside Rachel, takingthe edge of the sidewalk that was closest to the street. I had a gentlemanly reputation to uphold, after all. The well-landscaped backyard of the Henning place was dimly lit by stake lights shaped like Christmas trees, carrying the holly jolly spirit from the front of their house all the way through—I knew instinctively that the inside of their house was all decked out like Santa’s workshop too, though I hadn’t been over to see the Hennings for a while. The guest house, though, which Rachel had commandeered, was strikingly plain. Not a bit of festive decor on the outside, and surely the inside would be just as seasonally anonymous.

“Still the Scrooge of the Henning clan, I see,” I lightly teased her as we made it to the guest house door. Rachel rolled her eyes.

“Not wanting to decorate before Thanksgiving doesn’t make me a Scrooge. It makes me a normal human being.”

“They’re the same thing in a town like Mistletoe,” I countered, reveling in the smile we shared, the unique small-town background we had in common. Roman Jett couldn’t claim to have that connection with her, at least. Just thinking of that, the possibility that Roman could want to form some kind of connection with Rachel the way I clearly wanted to, had something irrational and hot flaring up inside me. I tempered it, but it was still a stupid decision to say what I said next. “Listen, Rachel, before you go…Roman is my friend, and he’s a better guy than he appears. But I think it’d be better if you kept your distance from him anyway. He’s not always the best with women.”

My voice came out harsher than I meant it to, and I knew it was a stupid idea to overstep in this way with Rachel, no matter how friendly we’d seemingly become during my player interview and our brief exchange tonight. Sure enough, her face instantly shifted, became cold. Furious. An avenging goddess.

“Did I ask for your input on my life?” She let out, sharp and clipped. Humiliation colored my cheeks, and before I could even sputter, she was back on the attack.

Well, the defensive, I guess. Because I’d made the stupid decision to poke the bear. This was just her following instinct.

“I don’t know where you got it into your head that you need to warn me about Roman, or about anything. It’s none of your goddamn business, no matter how close you are to my twin.”

I flinched. I wanted to backtrack, to take back the stupid words I’d said in a moment of weakness and misplaced jealousy. I had no reason to even think there was anything going on with Rachel and Roman anyway—her freezing up when I mentioned him was hardly enough proof that there was anything untoward happening. And she was right; it wasn’t my business anyway. I was mentally cursing myself, a chorus ofstupid, stupid, stupidplaying through my brain in the loud, insistent way it often had when I was with Sharon. But then, other than dating Sharon for as long as I did, I’d never been quite this stupid before.

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