Page 24 of Flown in for Christmas

We’ve made it around the entire rink a total of four times and she’s fallen at least seven—including her face plant into, well, my dick. It didn’t hurt, thankfully, if anything it had me growing before thinking. Her hot breath fanning through my jeans had me wanting to drop to my knees instead of her.

The memory dries up as Darcy zips past us for the hundredth time, twirling as she does. I try not to let her presence affect my mood, but it’s difficult when she’s intentionally showing off like that.

“She’s really good,” Joy comments, her forearm locked around mine as we watch Darcy jump and spin mid-air with ease.

I grunt.

“Why does she call you Nicky?” she asks quietly.

“Because she knows I hate it.” I sigh. “She didn’t start until after we broke up.”

She nods, gliding with her legs locked as I push my feet to propel us forward. After the third time around the rink, she said she liked this better. And since I like having her close—as in, clinging to me for dear life—I’ve been coasting us along for some time now.

She’s having fun, and that’s all that matters to me.

“Why did you break up? If you don’t mind me asking.”

That’s been the question on my family’s mind for the last two years. They adored Darcy in the beginning. Until her true colors started to shine shortly after my uncle’s sudden passing. “Nothing was ever good enough for her. She always wanted more,” I say, muttering to add, “She still does.”

Joy looks startled by this news. “But she’s so…”

“Fake,” I deadpan. “Everything about Darcy is a persona, a façade. Her and Eric are a match made in heaven, or hell, depending on how you see it.”

She faces ahead, her brow doing that little furrow it does when she’s thinking something over. I’m starting to love that look. And I feel like kicking myself for all the times I didn’t notice it before. All the times I didn’t noticeher.

“When, um…” She hums, thinking hard about whatever is on her mind.

I chuckle. “What’s got you so deep in thought, angel?” It’s the second time I’ve called her that, and each time it’s given me these damn butterflies in my gut.Why?What is it about her that keeps stealing my attention? She’s got me wrapped around her ring finger. Quite literally.

I could have thought of anyone else yesterday.Anyone. Yet, she was the only one roaming around in my subconscious. Has she always been there? How long have I had the thought of being with her tucked away?

I come around the bend a bit faster than I should and realize a second too late. Joy’s legs wobble as she fights to keep them under her. Then they’re not.

The blades of her skates slip sideways and smack into mine, sending me down with her.

We land with a thud on our asses.

“He’s down!” Rich calls out laughing, and I look over to find several members of my family watching with amusement. I don’t usually fall, having played junior hockey for a time in my youth. I’m sure they’re all getting a kick out of this.

Joy hisses, grabbing where her hip and butt meet.

My pulse skyrockets into concern. “Shit. You okay?” I ask, getting to my feet before reaching out to help her.

“Need a hand?” Natalie smirks, steering Tucker’s red ice scooter rental beside us.

Joy grips the edge as my sister holds it steady for her to stand. She looks up at me, still smiling despite falling so many times, but her smile feels forced this time. I wouldn’t doubt she’s sore by now.

“I think I’m about done,” she says quietly with the cutest scrunch of her nose.

I nod. Most of my family have been off the ice for a while. Rentals are good for an hour, and we’re cutting it close to the dinner reservation my mother made for our whopping table of fifteen.

Islowlyguide us off the ice. I pay close attention, this time, and try not to let my head wander any deeper into my feelings toward my assistant.Tuck those away, as they say.Thankfully, Joy’s exit is much smoother than her grand entrance onto the ice.

We’re under the covered area, peeling off our skates, when I ask her, “So, what’d you think?”

“It was fun.” She blows out a breath. “A bit bruising, but fun.”

I chuckle. “You did well for a first-timer,” I say, gathering our skates while she tugs on her boots. “We’ll have you trying out for the Maple Leafs in no time.”

---