Page 22 of Jingle Bell Rock

“Maybe, but the fact that you’re even standing here on wobbly legs gripping the rail like a lifeline means the world to me.”

“Robert…”

He grinned like an imp, his rosy cheeks now cool from the ice. I leaned in to press a kiss to his lips.

“I’m going to pay you back for this,” I promised.

“I sure hope so.” He pulled back and then straightened. “Want to try moving from the rail?”

“Is that a trick question?”

Robbie held his hand out and gestured for me to come to him, and when I reached for his hand, he said, “Okay, now slowly slide your foot like this. Left then right. Got it?”

I did. But understanding and executing it were two completely different things. Praying someone with a gigantic blowtorch would come and melt this icy torture rink away, I did as I was told and hesitantly pushed off the rail.

My legs swayed in an unfamiliar way beneath me, and as I did my best to do what Robbie had suggested, my left leg shot out one way as my right went the other.

Robbie grabbed my elbows and pulled me to him, somehow managing to keep the both of us upright as I clung like a vine to his neck. This was completely and utterly humiliating, but when he rubbed his cheek up against my stubble and purred, I found one positive out of the moment. We were now standing as close as we could get with our clothes on.

“That was good,” he said.

“That was almost a hospital visit.”

“No.” Robbie pulled back and ran his fingers down my cheek. “This is a moment. One I’ll never forget. Thank you.”

The genuine pleasure in his sparkling eyes made my discomfort totally worth it. We stood under the twinkle lights with “All I Want for Christmas Is You” playing on the speakers and people whizzing by us. “You’re welcome.”

Robbie gently let me go and grinned as he skated a little ways back from me. I frowned, and then he pulled his phone out and snapped several photos of me trying to stay upright, then skated around me, narrating a quick video to Julien.

When he was done, he slipped the phone into his pocket and skated back up to me.

“I take that back. You’re not welcome at all.”

He giggled and took my hand. “Hey, there’s no way I wasn’t going to get proof of this.”

“Me skating?”

“No. How much you must love me.”

That would be a whole hell of a lot, because there was no way I would’ve fallen on my ass twice in the ten minutes after that for just anyone—and Robert Thornton-Priestley knew it.

Fourteen

Ace

“OKAY, HOW DO I look?” I could hear the excitement of the audience beyond the curtain, the arena now filled with a festive crowd as the Jingle Ball was about to begin.

“Handsome as always.” Dylan ran a hand down the sleeve of my red button-up shirt and squeezed my hand. “I still think you should wear the Christmas hat Paige offered. I am.”

“Yes, but you look adorable. I, well… The blinking lights would’ve distracted me.”

“Suuure. Keep trying with that excuse, but I know better. You work in front of lights and cameras for a living.”

“Fine, so I didn’t want to mess up my hair.”

Dylan eyed my closely cropped hair and smirked. “More like you didn’t want to look—”

“Ridiculous?”

“Aww, where’s your Christmas cheer?”

I took hold of Dylan’s chin and angled his face up toward mine. “I’m saving all my Christmas cheer for you…later.”

Dylan’s eyes sparked with mischief. “And your big candy cane?”

I chuckled. “Definitely. And if you don’t mention the hat again, I might even let you suck it.”

“Ace? Dylan?” Paige’s voice made me look over my shoulder. “You ready?”

“Ready,” we said at the same time, and then she frowned.

“Ace, where’s your hat?”

“Umm…” I feigned ignorance and took a step back toward the stage. “Don’t know, but—”

“Ace and Dylan, you’re on,” the stage manager said, just in the nick of time.

I gestured over my shoulder with my thumb. “I gotta go.”

Her eyes narrowed, but before she could tear me a new one, I grabbed a grinning Dylan’s hand and led him with me onto the stage.

The second we appeared, the excited crowd turned to a crazed one. The audience erupted with cheers, clapping, stomping feet, and catcalls. The spotlights followed the two of us to the center of the stage, and as we looked out at the winter wonderland Paige had created, I couldn’t help but admire her skill. Damn, she was really good at her job. She’d turned a sporting arena into something out of everyone’s Christmas fantasy.

“Good evening, everyone,” I said into the mic, and when the cheering got louder, I chuckled. “Are we all feeling merry tonight?”

A unanimous Yes! boomed back at us as though it was through a megaphone, and Dylan grinned and leaned into the mic.

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