Page 3 of Puck Me for Christmas

“Morning, Sasha,” I said politely.

I barely knew her, but she’d made sure to introduce herself last night as some sort of social media maven, always filming or snapping, her phone connected to her like another limb. She’d already tried to involve me in her content, dropping hints that a narrative involving me would boost her views as well as my team’s presence in the public mind. I’d brushed her off then, but she didn’t seem discouraged.

She pressed closer. “How are you enjoying this unexpected holiday stay? My followers are going wild over the idea that we’re trapped in this cozy lodge. Romantic ambiance, star hockey coach…it’s like a reality show they never knew they needed.”

I forced a neutral chuckle. “It’s not what I planned, but making the best of it.”

Sasha’s eyes lit up. “Exactly! That’s the spirit. I’ve been telling my viewers I’m snowed in with you—none other than Logan McKenzie, former hockey pro, now a coach guiding others to greatness!” She gestured dramatically.

I tried not to grimace. “I’m just here for business, actually…Had a meeting that got derailed by the storm.”

“Right, right.” Sasha waved off what I’d said. “But business or not, we’re stuck. And I’ve been hinting that maybe you and I…” She shot me a suggestive glance. “We might just give my followers the perfect holiday romance.”

I cleared my throat as my nose wrinkled reflexively. The chemicals in whatever expensive perfume she was wearing were overpowering my senses. “Sasha, I’m flattered, but I’m not interested in playing a role. I’m just trying to wait out the storm.”

Her smile tightened. For a second, I saw a flicker of annoyance. Then she turned it back on, brighter than ever. “Of course! Just keep it in mind. There’s a huge audience out there. And besides, we have great chemistry, don’t you think?”

Before I had to answer her, Holly Joy entered the lounge. Today, she wore a sweater emblazoned with the words “Merry & Bright” in sequins, and a headband with reindeer antlers bobbed with her every step. She scanned the room, beaming as if we were all her beloved family and not a band of strangers forced together by nature’s whim.

“Good morning, everyone!” Holly Joy’s voice was so cheerful it made my teeth ache. “I know the storm is keeping us here longer than we all expected, but I have a wonderful idea to pass the time. We’re going to have some fun holiday competitions! Nothing like a little friendly rivalry to warm the spirit, right?”

Pearl and Norman exchanged skeptical looks. The newlyweds perked up, apparently loving the idea. Sasha’s eyes sparkled at the mention of ‘competition.’ I glanced toward the corridor leading from the guest rooms, and there she was: Emberleigh, stepping into the lounge, her posture stiff but elegant, wearing a long cream sweater over a pair of black leggings, her blonde hair shining.

My heart thumped. She was even more stunning this morning, but the set of her jaw told me she was on guard. Last night, she’d fled almost as soon as she’d laid eyes on me. I didn’t blame her, but still, I’d hoped for a chance to talk. Maybe I could find a moment after Holly Joy’s little event. I just needed Emberleigh to give me an opening.

The hotel clerk clapped her hands as the guests gathered around. “Our first event: A gingerbread house contest! We have all the supplies in the dining area. You’ll be in pairs. Build the best gingerbread house you can. Be creative, festive, and have fun! Afterward, we’ll vote, but you can’t vote for your own creation. The winner gets bragging rights and a special holiday treat from Dante in the kitchen.”

Dante Montanari, the cook, peeked out from the kitchen door at the mention of his name, his pudgy cheeks flushing slightly.

Sasha giggled and looped an arm through mine before I could react. “Logan and I are definitely going to win,” she announced, voice loud enough to carry through the lounge. “We’ll make the cutest gingerbread cottage, won’t we?” She gave me an indulgent smile, as if being paired together was a no-brainer.

I stiffened. Emberleigh’s eyes flicked toward us, and I swore I saw something flash in them. The thought that she might be jealous gave me a strange thrill, but I tried to stay realistic.She had every right to be angry at me, and it wasn’t like I’d chosen to be Sasha’s partner.

“Um, let’s see…” Holly Joy said, rifling through a notepad as if she actually had planned the pairings. She called out names: Pearl and Norman together, of course. The newlyweds as another team. Raul, the lawyer, ended up paired with Holly Joy herself, who beamed at him as if he were the best Christmas present ever. Celestia Moon, a larger woman draped in a purple caftan with gemstone rings on every finger, introduced herself as the spa therapist. She smiled serenely, fingering a long amethyst pendant, and said her partner would be her ancestor, Fiona, an Irish duchess who was attending in spirit.

That left Emberleigh and Dante. They stood side-by-side, and Emberleigh looked resigned, Dante rather nervous.

“All right, everyone!” Holly Joy sang. “Let’s move to the dining area. Aprons are provided. Let’s build some gingerbread dreams!”

We followed her to a large dining room with several long tables side-by-side. Each station was loaded with gingerbread panels, bowls of candy, icing tubes, and other edible decorations. The smell of sugar and spice filled the air. A huge picture window looked out onto a courtyard with a terrace banked with snow.

Sasha perched her phone on a mini tripod. “Viewers,” she said in a syrupy tone, “get ready to witness the best gingerbread house ever! Team Sasha-Logan is on it.” She shot me a wink and slid closer, shoulders touching.

I tensed and shifted slightly away, pretending I needed more room to work. “We should start building,” I said, picking up a gingerbread wall. Maybe if I focused on the house, I could tune out Sasha’s commentary.

Across the table, Emberleigh and Dante began assembling their base. Emberleigh moved with calm efficiency, piping icing along edges and pressing them together until they stuck. Dante tried to help but fumbled with the icing bag, sending a blob onto the table. Emberleigh said something reassuring, and he blushed, nodding while stealing glances at Holly Joy, who was two tables down trying to help Raul figure out gumdrop placement.

On our side, Sasha narrated everything. “Look at these candy canes, everyone. Aren’t they adorable? And Logan here is doing a great job with the wall! Such steady hands, right?” She nudged me, and I almost dropped the icing bag. My patience was wearing thin. I forced a neutral smile and concentrated on stabilizing our roof.

Emberleigh glanced up, catching my eye. She looked irritated. Did she really think I was enjoying Sasha’s attention? She couldn’t be more wrong. Sasha was beautiful, yes, and when I’d first met her I’d considered having a brief fling—it had been a while since I’d had a woman in my bed—but Emberleigh’s presence had immediately snuffed out the initial desire for the other woman.

“Logan, could you hold this candy cane lamppost upright while I film?” Sasha asked, pressing a striped candy cane into my hand. “I want my viewers to see how charming you are with these holiday touches.”

I sighed internally and did as asked, feeling ridiculous. My eyes flicked to Emberleigh again. She caught the look and gave a small shake of her head, turning back to her work, and I wondered what she was thinking.

Across the room, Pearl and Norman argued over how many gumdrops to use. Norman insisted on a “minimalist approach,” while Pearl wanted a “gumdrop garden.” Thenewlyweds giggled as they decorated their roof with pretzels shaped into a tiny sled. Someone behind me—maybe Celestia, the spa therapist—hummed a carol softly. The scene was absurd: grown adults building sugary houses like a room of preschool children while trapped by a blizzard.

“Time’s almost up,” Holly Joy called, setting a timer on her phone. “Finish up those finishing touches!”

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