Page 6 of Puck the Halls

My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my thoughts. I pick it up and see it's Anna Marie calling me, "Hey, Anna Marie. What's up?" I say with as much fake happiness as I can muster.

"I'm glad I caught you. When are you planning on coming home?"

"As soon as I'm done packing. I think I've had enough alone time to last me a lifetime." I tease when I know deep down it's true.

This morning was a wake-up call. I'm going to be the best intern the Minnesota Norse have ever seen. I'll find the perfect guy, get married, have a ton of kids, and forget I ever met Cooper, Sam, and Tate.

It's the perfect plan until I remember I begged them to take me raw without the barrier of a condom between us. I'm on the pill, but even that isn't one hundred percent foolproof.

I place a hand on my stomach and dream about a dark-haired little boy—a little boy who will never know his fathers. I hold back the tears until I can end the call with Anna Marie after agreeing to meet her at our favorite bakery downtown.

It isn't until three weeks later that my dream is shattered by the start of my monthly cycle, and I cry until I'm all cried out over a dark-haired little baby boy that never was.

six

Cooper

Present Day

"Ithink you guysare going to like it here coaching the Minnesota Norse." Jensen James, one of the three team owners, slaps my back. "You'd better for how much it cost to buy out your contracts in the middle of a season."

"It seems like a nice facility." I automatically reply.

It's actually a top-of-the-line facility that any team would be lucky to have. And even though it doesn't seem like it, I'm excited about carrying on our father's legacy with the Norse Hockey Team and bringing home a Stanley Cup or two.

My brothers and I have been home a handful of times during the last six months, and we spend less and less time here each time. Not because we don't like it here—just the opposite. This town holds the best memories for us.

The memories of our beautiful, brave Jolie and the night she propositioned us. That night lives rent-free in my brain, playing on a loop every moment I'm awake.

"As you know, we have top-of-the-line athletes on our team. Your Dad did a great job sculpting them in the off-season and during the first half of the season. We're lucky the three of you agreed to take over his legacy." Colt Hayes, another one of the owners, adds.

"Besides the money, I've been meaning to ask what made you decide to switch teams this far into the season?" The third owner of the team, Beck Thorson, asks.

I glance at my brother before giving him the answer we had rehearsed: "It was time to come home."

After our father's health scare and our night with Jolie, our lives felt empty. We were restless and needed a change, or so we thought. Until the offer to coach the Minnesota Norse fell into our laps when we realized we needed to be closer to our parents. And maybe, just maybe, we might find Jolie again.

Beck stares at me a little longer than necessary as if trying to solve a puzzle before replying, "Okay. Let's show you around the facility some more."

We follow the three around the arena, working our way through the locker room and meeting the players until we reach the trainers' room. "This is Hank, our head athletic trainer." A guy in his late forties lifts his head from the wrist of the player he's wrapping in athletic tape and grunts a hello.

"What about me? Am I chopped liver or something?" The hockey player getting his wrist wrapped by Hank accuses.

"That's my mouthy nephew, one of the Hayes triplets. And over there, " Colt nods in the opposite direction, "is our intern Jolie, wrapping another of my triplet nephews' ankles."

"We have names, you know." The two identical players begin arguing with Colt, but I'm no longer listening to their bickering, and neither are my brothers as we walk over to the blonde crouched down on her knees, taping up whichever triplet is at her station.

Jolie isn't a common name, but I don't want to get my hopes up until I see her face and know it's her, even though I'd know her soft honey-blonde hair anywhere from all the times I ran my fingers through it that night.

Jolie turns around to greet us, and her eyes flare with recognition and desire. "Um, hi." She says, and I finally feel like I'm home.

seven

Jolie

"Um, hi." I'm soshocked that I've finally come face to face with my fantasy men after all these months I can't move. Well, not exactly face-to-face—more like face-to-groin—like the night we were together on my birthday. Just when I had finally stopped thinking about them, they have to show up at my place of work.

"Jolie is our athletic trainer intern. She's done such a fantastic job that we'll offer her a position on the team once she graduates." Colt beams at me like a proud father, and I smile back, thankful for his praise until I hear three low growls from Cooper, Sam, and Tate.

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