Page 44 of Santa's Pucking Hat Trick

The boy’s eyes sparkled. “A dragon! Mom says she’s gonna paint scales on my face and everything!”

Roman grinned, giving the kid a playful fist bump. “That sounds awesome. I bet you’re gonna be the coolest dragon on the block.”

“Duh,” the kid beamed.

Roman moved on to a girl with bright red pigtails and big glasses, her thin legs propped up on a cushion. “What about you?” Roman asked. “You got your costume all picked out yet, or are you already thinking about what you’re going to ask Santa for?”

The girl nodded enthusiastically. “Both! I’m gonna be a pirate princess. And for Christmas, I’m asking Santa for a new dollhouse. My little brother smashed the last one.”

Roman’s eyes softened as he chuckled. “A pirate princess, huh? That’s pretty badass—er, I mean, that’s so cool.”

This correction came when I hissed at him, reminding him not to swear. The whole room of kids giggled at his slipup, though, and even the nurses who were supervising the scene thought it was funny. The news team talked about cutting that part into their B-roll.

“Sorry about your brother smashing your dollhouse,” Roman expressed with genuine sympathy. “My brother Ryder did that once or twice, but I helped my sister Ava get it all fixed up.”

“Mine is too smashed to fix,” the girl lamented.

“Well, I’ll bet Santa’s gonna come through for you, no problem.”

I hadn’t expected to learn more about Roman’s own family as I watched this adorableness play out. Somehow, just hearingthat he had younger siblings, the clear fondness in his voice as he recalled the story, had my heart squeezing. I watched as he continued to talk to each child, his voice gentle, his demeanor patient. It wasn’t just a show for the cameras—there was something deeply genuine in the way he interacted with them, and he even seemed annoyed when he got pulled away for an interview with a reporter from the Mistletoe Tribune. The second he was done, he was back with the kids, rallying them into a game with rules he was making up on the spot.

I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised he was a natural, since the hospital had been his idea. Besides, in a lot of ways, Roman acted like a big kid himself. But it still caught me off guard how easily he shifted from too-cool-for-school Roman Jett to a sexy Mr. Rogers.

Well, the sexy part was just my own editorializing. But there was one tween girl in the playroom who looked at him with stars in her eyes, so at least I wasn’t alone in my swooning for once.

“You’re really great with them,” I found myself saying close to Roman’s ear when we had a quiet moment. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Roman shrugged, giving me a half smile. “Big family. I’ve got five younger siblings, so I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Five?” I repeated, astonished. “Jeez, that is a lot. Must have been chaotic.”

“Sometimes,” he agreed.

Something in the way he said it—casual, but with an undercurrent of something more, his face more serious all of a sudden—made me pause. I wanted more information, and it was blatant fishing that had me going on, “You must’ve been a pretty busy older brother.”

He laughed, but there was something dry and tired in the sound. “Yeah, you could say that. My parents weren’t exactly around a lot, so…I kind of stepped in when they couldn’t.Or wouldn’t.” He looked away, watching the kids through the window since we’d found our way out into the hallway. His jaw tightened, and I could tell he was trying to keep his cool. “It happens when there’s a big age gap. I’m about a decade older than the oldest of the kids. Different dad, y’know. So other than hockey practice, I spent a lot of time babysitting when I was a teenager.”

It hit me like a punch in the gut. Roman hadn’t just been a big brother—he’d been a stand-in parent to his younger siblings when he was just a kid himself. And while I’d had the luxury of growing up in a stable, loving family where I got to just be a kid, Roman hadn’t. He’d had to grow up too fast, take on responsibilities that weren’t supposed to be his. No wonder he acted out sometimes. The way he lived now, the recklessness, the impulsivity—it was probably the first real freedom he’d ever had.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “That must’ve been really hard.”

He shrugged again, but this time, it felt more like a defense mechanism. “It is what it is. I love my siblings, you know? Wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

I could see that he meant it. Beneath all of Roman’s rough edges, there was this deep well of loyalty, of love, even if he didn’t always show it in the ways you’d expect. It made me admire him even more, and if I was honest with myself, there was a little sensation of falling in the pit of my stomach. Sweeter than the lust he’d inspired before. I didn’t want to think about what it meant.

We finished up at the hospital, taking a few obligatory pictures with the kids and some of the staff and wrapping up details with the news crew, before heading back to the car. Roman was quiet for a while, his usual playful energy dimmed slightly. Tired, I guessed. Maybe thinking back on his childhood the way I’d been all afternoon.

As we drove back toward town, he suddenly broke the silence. “Hey, tomorrow night you should come hang out. With all of us—all the guys,” he clarified. I couldn’t look at him as I drove, but I could feel the nervousness he was emitting into Rhiannon’s cab anyway. “Me, Sawyer, Wes, Mike…we all usually grab drinks at the Rowdy Reindeer after a game. But Michael’s got plans with his girl tomorrow, so…it’ll just be us.”

The way he said it, so casual yet laced with suggestion, sent a shiver down my spine. I could hear the invitation in his voice—this wasn’t just about drinks. Not with the way he looked at me, not with the way he emphasized that Michael wouldn’t be there. This was a fulfillment of the prospect we’d hinted at earlier in the guest house.

My pulse quickened at the thought of spending the evening with all three of them, a wave of anticipation and desire flooding through me. I could already picture it—Roman, Sawyer, and Wes, all together, all mine. The idea made my heart race, and before I could overthink it, I nodded.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’d love that.”

We were stopped at a light now, so I could finally look at him. Roman grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Good. It’s a date.”

23

---