Page 5 of Havoc for the Holidays

“Oh. Oh! Right. I did say that, more or less. Sort of.” I bobbed my head up and down too fast. I was a hot mess on a good day. Evidently, in front of gorgeous men in dance tights, I turned into a full scale spicy disaster. “Sounds like a plan?”

“Linc, help me understand—was that a question or an agreement?” Ezechiel’s smirk grew in intensity, as did the heat in my face.

“That was an Ollie. He’ll absolutely be giving you that tour.” Linc smiled as the girls came tumbling over fresh from the changing room. “Great work today! Did you have fun?”

“Heck yeah!” Laney bounced closer and smooched her father on the cheek.

“Daddy!” I barely had time to brace before my Becs landed in my lap with a giggle. “Did you watch me?”

“I did, little darling.” I tried to neaten her hair but swiftly abandoned the effort. Our curls were stubborn. Most efforts to tame them were futile. “You did a good job.”

“That she did. They all did. Next week is twice a week practice. Don't forget.” Ezechiel took a step back and flicked his hand to the side. “Evening, girls. Gentlemen.”

I waved, which was about as awkward as I felt, and he responded with a wink. His natural, effusive confidence had me feeling wholly inadequate. So much so, I kept waving like an utter fool, even after he turned away to speak to another parent.

“Good God, Ollie. You're hopeless.”

My eyes snapped toward Lincoln. “Oh?”

“Oh. You and the ‘ohs’ are both hopeless.” He tipped his chin toward the back door. “Outside, now. We’re having an intervention.”

I blinked in disbelief, but followed him outside nevertheless. Once we each had our daughters tucked inside our vehicles, he reeled on me with a laugh while shaking his head.

“Oliver Branson, you can't possibly be this hopeless. Please tell me you actually know how to flirt?”

I scoffed so hard, I started coughing as the chilly air hit the back of my throat. Once I regained the ability to speak, the words came out in a rush of garbled syllables. “What?! I wasn't flirting! No. God. Absolutely not. Never!”

“Well, he was. Please at least tell me you noticedthat?”

“Pssh! He was not flirting with me. He was just being nice.” I scrunched my nose and huffed. “He would never. He's all… suave and confident. I'm just… me.”

“Olls, hon. You're a gem. Why wouldn't an attractive man flirt with you? And for the record, he absolutely was.” Linc pulled me into a hug. “Time to live a little, Ollie. You're only twenty-two.Being a single dad isn't supposed to be a death sentence for your dick.”

I sputtered and scoffed and made all manner of unattractive sounds of protest as I pulled back to gape in horror at my best friend. “You did not just say—”

“I absolutely did say that and I will say it as many times as I need to.” Linc grabbed me by the shoulders and gave a firm shake. “Live a little, Olls. Have some fun. And for the love of God… please don't make those sounds when you go on your quasi-date with the hot dancer, okay?”

He cackled as he walked backward toward his car before I could sputter a coherent sentence. I scowled just to be sure he understood what I was trying and failing to say. All that resulted in was him laughing. Harder. He'd realize how wrong he was soon. I carried that knowledge with me as I walked around the front of my car and climbed into the driver's seat.

“What's for dinner?” Becs immediately asked before I even had my belt fastened.

“Slow cooker chicken and rice, my love.” I waved to Lincoln as he drove by before shifting the car out of the parking spot and toward the road. “Fruit smoothies for dessert, miss. I heard about the cinnamon roll.”

“Yeah, it was awesome. Mr. Chip makes them the size of my whole head!” She dove head first into a rambling monologue about cinnamon rolls, school antics, a vivid retelling of her pretend play with Laney, and about half a dozen other things I could vaguely follow. I oohed and ahhed and nodded at all the right places, at least.

Our commute was hardly that at all, but this side of Windhaven was where few tourists and visitors ever ventured. The town itself was a wealthy one courtesy of the ski resort and second home owners keen on turning it into a year-round getaway. That didn't necessarily mean that all the local residentswere even close to wealthy, myself included in that number. Our apartment was one of four in the building located at the end of a narrow street that was all but hidden between two historic homes that faced the quintessential Main Street.

Despite the lack of glamor and mountain top charm, it was home and had been for four years. We climbed the creaky stairs hand in hand and as soon as I opened the door, Becs took off inside, still regaling me with tales from her exciting day as a kindergarten student and prima ballerina. The weight from my day melted away the second my shoes landed on the pile by the door.

“Hey, don't get distracted! Dinner will be ready any second.”

“Okaaay, Daddy!” Her singsong warble filtered through the apartment from the direction of her bedroom as I turned toward the kitchen. If I had to guess, she was feeding her pet fish. He or she was the third iteration of Bubbles ever since I’d bought her the tank for her birthday in September. Thank God feeder goldfish only cost five cents and all looked the same.

I rummaged in the fridge until I found the last hard cider and dug out my cell to text my parents. We were close, despite the distance between us. As soon as I'd turned eighteen, they’d packed their bags to head to Florida for their well-earned retirement. Helping their teenage son raise a newborn baby while he was still in high school more than qualified them for that early retirement.

I sent them a message and chuckled quietly under my breath as the phone started ringing. I answered it and tucked the phone against my shoulder so I could finish preparing dinner.

“Hello, Mom. How're you?”

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