The Christmas Stallions, page 15
“Oh, yeah?” Her voice dropped an octave and her pupils dilated. “I think I can spare a few minutes.”
“This would take far longer than a few minutes, Baby Girl. Get some sleep and I’ll call you after we land in Dallas tomorrow,” I said, cursing myself internally. What was I thinking, turning down a virtual booty call? Maybe the guys were right. I was whipped. But it felt oh so amazing to be whipped by this beauty pouting on the screen before me.
“Good night, Stud,” she blew me a kiss and ended the call.
A few minutes later, my phone pinged. I opened the message from Emma to find her sprawled on her bedspread, wearing a matching set of lace panties and a bra and holding a bejewelled vibrator. Fuck, she was perfect.
“Good girl,” I growled. After I finished myself off and cleaned up, I opened my phone and scrolled through it to find her the perfect gift to keep her company while I was gone.
Bobby sat next to me on the jet as we flew to Dallas the next morning. He was talking away, but I was only half listening as I scrolled through Emma’s Snapgram. She looked seriously hot in a skimpy red bikini that barely covered anything, with her arm slung around her best friend’s shoulders next to a lake. The caption read fourth of July with the fam at Lake Helena. It must have been during my brief stint in New York. It’s a shame I missed it, but it was probably better that way. If Greg was pissed now, he would’ve had no bones about disposing of my body in the lake if he’d caught me ogling her back then.
“So I was thinking since we don’t have a game till tomorrow night, why don’t we all hit the bars tonight to celebrate you getting hitched? Won’t have much time for a proper bachelor party before New Year’s anyway,” Bobby rattled on, dragging my attention away from Emma’s red-hot photos.
“Hmm?” I asked.
“Dude, have you even been listening? Bachelor party tonight in Dallas. What do you think?” Bobby elbowed me in the ribs and I grunted.
“Not much point, is there? We’re postponing till June,” I replied, rubbing the sore spot he left.
“Postponing? Why?” Bobby asked, and several heads turned our way. It seems everyone’s given up the pretence of being occupied instead of eavesdropping now.
“She’s got her heart set on getting married at Serenity, and Mason, her other brother and contractor, won’t have it done until then,” I shrugged. “Makes no difference. One way or another, I’m putting a ring on her finger.”
“You guys are getting married in June now?” Coach asked from his spot at the front of the plane, and I nodded. “There goes my New Year’s Eve plans. Is she even going to fit in her dress by then?”
“What do you mean?” My eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Why wouldn’t her dress still fit her in six months?
“Oh, come on, like we don’t already know.” Carlson rolled his eyes. “She must be knocked up if she’s marrying a guy like you.”
“Excuse me?” I growled. “Want to repeat that?”
Carlson snickered. Greg’s shoulders tensed, but he still didn’t turn around in his seat.
“Only question is, are you the daddy?” Carlson smirked. “Or are you helping her out because of your pants feelings for her big brother?”
I practically launched at him from my seat. My fist met a solid wall of flesh. Strong arms wrapped around my body, dragging me backwards. I struggled against the force. Bobby grunted. Carlson swore and struggled out of his seat, but he was being held down by the trainer. The plane was in total chaos as players and trainers moved to separate us. I wanted to kill Carlson. My blood boiled. What was his problem?
“Leave him be, Ryker,” Coach’s deep voice boomed. “We’ll let the other team solve this for us on the ice tomorrow. He’s not worth the effort.”
Confusion and anger warred inside me. I wanted to listen to the words of reason, but when I remembered what Carlson said about my fiance, I wanted to murder him all over again. I surged towards him again, dragging Bobby along with me.
“Ryker!” Greg shouted to be heard over the other players. “Sit down. Emma can beat his ass for us when we get home. No point worrying about a pussy like him when my little sister can whoop his ass anytime she wants. She’s already proven it.”
I grunted. Our eyes met, and I saw Greg was serious. He really wanted me to leave Carlson for Emma to shred. The image brought a smile to my face. There was definitely an appeal to that. My warrior queen kicking ass and taking names. I relaxed slightly in Bobby’s grip. He let me go once he realized I would not launch myself across the jet and pulverize the smug bastard, rubbing his chest where my fist connected with his body.
“Everyone better sit down before I open the hatch and throw all of you out of this jet!” Coach commanded. I sat and buckled myself in, followed by everyone else. “Good. Now shut up and watch the movie. We land in one hour!”
I spent the rest of the flight stewing in what Carlson had said. Did everyone wonder that? Why was it so hard to believe that we might actually be in love? I stared a hole into Greg’s back as we landed. Did he think that? He knew me better than anyone, yet even he was blindsided by the truth of my feelings. I hated that he still wasn’t speaking to me, at least not as friends do. He’d been strictly professional and distant since the first fight we’d had about my relationship with his sister. Greg had to know I was in love with Emma. Didn’t he?
Chapter twenty-two
Emma
How did this happen? I looked around the spa with its modern and clean decor. How did Melody talk me into spending the weekend at a spa when Ryker was flying home any time now? I missed him while he was away, yet instead of celebrating his return by showing him how much I was here on a girls’ weekend/bachelorette trip. Although, I could use a manicure and pedicure. Oh, that facial was tempting too. I sipped the champagne a passing waiter brought as we waited for our massages.
“Should you be drinking that?” Hannah whispered as she sat on the lounge next to me.
“Hmmm?” I asked, drawing my attention away from the brochure in my hands, listing the various services the spa offered. “Oh, yes, it’s fine. My lady friend dropped in for her monthly visit the other day.” It was also part of the reason I agreed to this trip. I was equal parts relieved and disappointed and dreading telling Ryker that I wanted to wait until we were married — or at least closer to the wedding — before we resume actively trying to start a family. Would he hate me for not wanting to be heavily pregnant at our wedding?
“Are you happy or sad about that?” Melody pipped in from my other side. She wasn’t as quiet as Hannah had tried to be. I sighed.
“I don’t know how I feel about it,” I replied. “A little of both, I guess? I want to have babies with Ryker. Cute squishy babies. But I don’t want to be fat in our wedding pictures. Does that make me a horrible, vain woman?”
Melody laughed.
“It makes you human,” Hannah glared at Melody, then refocused her attention on me. “Have you talked to Ryker about it?”
I shook my head.
“I haven’t had the chance yet,” I replied, biting my bottom lip. “What if he hates me?”
Now Hannah joined in with Melody and laughed.
“That man,” Melody struggled to catch her breath, “could never hate you, Emma. But you should talk to him.”
“Absolutely,” Hannah agreed. “Right after our massages.”
I laughed and noticed the massage therapist in lavender scrubs waiting patiently by the desk. Her long, black hair was pulled up into a simple high pony that trailed halfway down her back.
“Bride’s up first,” Melody sang, practically pushing me off my chair. I stuck my tongue out at her, then followed the massage therapist down the hall. She led me into a small room with low lighting and soft music playing. The walls were a soft sage colour, and lavender oil infused the air.
“Welcome to The Meadows. My name is Cheyenne, and I’ll be your massage therapist today. Is this your first time here?” The other woman handed me a crisp white towel and pointed to a privacy screen in the corner for me to undress.
“It is, actually. I’ve been meaning to make a trip here for years but never seemed to have the time before,” I replied as quickly undressed and wrapped the towel around my body before stepping back out from behind the screen.
“We’re grateful you finally made the time,” Cheyenne replied. She was all business-like as she motioned for me to lie face down on the long massage table. “Is there a special occasion?”
“I’m getting married.” it felt so strange to say those words. For the first time, it all felt so real. I was getting married. I was getting married to Ryker Jones, and it wasn’t the teenage fantasy that had lived in my head on repeat for years. This was so much better.
“Congratulations,” her voice was so cheerful and genuine.
“Thank you,” I smiled to myself. Cheyenne draped a sheet over my body and opened the towel, so I revealed my back to her. Warm oil dripped onto my skin and firm hands got to work, kneading my neck and shoulder muscles before moving lower. Between Cheyenne’s ministrations, the warm oil, and the soft music, it nearly lulled me to sleep. I don’t remember a time when I felt so relaxed. Would Ryker like this? I made a mental note to watch some videos and bring home the biggest bottle of this massage oil they offered. Maybe two.
An hour later, I was dressed in a fluffy white robe and following Cheyenne to my next destination. The saltwater spas.
“Your package includes the complimentary swimsuits for the spa,” Cheyenne informed me and my eyebrows shot up in surprise. How much did Melody spend this weekend? I thought it was going to be massages and yoga, maybe manicures and pedicures as well. This was more than I expected. “There’s a private dressing room through here, and your suit should be waiting for you. I’ll fill up the spa while you change, and your friends should be here shortly to join you.”
“Thank you,” I smiled and walked through the door she’d shown me. I placed my belongings in a locker and found a swimsuit that fits. A white, one-piece with the spa’s logo near the left shoulder strap. It was simple but cute. I loved how it accented my curves and made my hair look brighter. Usually, my swimsuit collection consisted of bikinis. I wondered if Ryker would like it. Grabbing my phone from the locker, I snapped a quick selfie in front of the mirror and sent it to him. Voices carried into the changing room, and I shoved my phone back into the locker before he replied. Melody and Hannah were waiting in the spa. I was taking far too long to get ready if they were already out there. Sliding my feet into a pair of flip-flops, I snatched a towel from the cupboard and made my way out.
“Finally! I thought you would never come out of there,” Hannah greeted me from the large spa.
“Hot damn!” Melody blurted, gaping, and I laughed. “Where have you been hiding that body?”
“Under Ryker,” I smirked. “And on him.”
“Lucky man,” we burst into a fit of giggles and I slid into the tub to join them. Hannah handed me a flute of champagne and I slipped beneath the water and let the jets and the heat melt my bones until I was completely boneless.
“Thank you for this, ladies,” I murmured, my head resting back on the side of the tub. My eyes drifted closed. “I did not know how much I needed this. Remind me to install one of these when we get home.”
“Our home, or your new home with the hockey hottie?” Melody teased, but with a serious undertone to her question that I didn’t miss.
“You mean the house I plan to sell to you?” I asked, praying that it was the right move to make. I loved our house, but I didn’t see myself raising a family with Ryker in it. Forcing Melody to move because I was getting married didn’t seem right, either. The idea made me queasy. It was the last thing I wanted to do to my best friend, and after considering what she’d said the other day, it only made sense.
“Seriously?” Melody gasped. Waves slapped my chest, and I opened one eye to peek at her, praying she was as happy about the idea as she sounded. Melody’s arms wrapped around me and she squeezed. Spots dotted my eyesight from the force of her hug, but I smiled and laughed when I could breathe again.
“Sorry,” Melody bit her lip. “I was just a little excited. I’ve been trolling realty websites for a week trying to figure out where I was going to go. There aren’t a lot of choices this time of year.”
“I have one condition though,” I smirked. “You’re going to have to put up with us until we can find the perfect place. And I can’t promise you won’t walk in on anything.”
Hannah hooted with laughter.
“Done! I’ll buy a blindfold,” Melody agreed, and we all joined in with Hannah and laughed.
“A blindfold, huh?” I arched a brow. “I’m getting so many ideas at this place. First, the oils and massage, and now blindfolds. What next?”
“Wait till you see the sex room,” Melody wiggled her eyebrows. I howled. This weekend was exactly what I needed. Now I just had to tell Ryker what I decided and hope he’d be ok with it. We could move into his condo, but it was so far away from Serenity and he was gone half the time. It made little sense for me to move into his place after the wedding. But we had months to figure that out. At least one good thing was coming from us delaying the wedding. We had time to find a place we both loved.
Chapter twenty-three
Ryker
For the first time, walking into my condo, I realized how cold it was. Cold and lonely. The decor was fine. The designer I’d hired when I moved in had done an exceptional job selecting the furnishings and decor. But nothing here screamed home to me. I probably wouldn’t even be here now if Emma’s friends hadn’t whisked her away for the weekend. No one else was around, and this was the last place I wanted to be.
I picked up the phone and started dialling Greg’s number and froze. He wasn’t ready to hear from me yet. I get it. But he was my best friend, regardless of what happened between me and his sister. The past two weeks were the longest we’ve spent not talking, and an ache formed in my chest. What was it going to take for him to forgive me? How long was this going to last?
Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I popped the top; the cap bouncing with a metallic clang off the kitchen tap and took a big gulp. Enough was enough. He needed to get over this, even if it meant my face was going to be re-arranged. I finished the beer, grabbed my keys and wallet, and stalked down to the parking garage. My best friend was a stubborn mule who could stay mired in shit for months before finding his way out of it. And sometimes he needed a push.
By the time I got to his place, it was already dark outside. I parked in the driveway behind his car, blocking it on purpose so he couldn’t run away. Now I just had to convince him to open the door.
Snow crunched underfoot as I jogged the short distance to his house. I raised my fist and knocked on the heavy wooden door; the sound reverberating through the large brick house. The house Greg had bought intending to fill with a family someday and currently lived by himself. Time ticked by slowly. My nose went numb from the cold. I raised my fist to knock again when I heard a click and it whipped open. Greg was bleary-eyed and swaying on his feet. Crap.
“What have you been drinking?” I asked, pushing my way past him so he couldn’t slam the door in my face.
“Who are you? My mother?” He belched.
“No, I’m the best friend that’s going to stay and keep an eye on you till you sober up,” I replied, shrugging off my jacket and shoes.
“S-some b-best friend you are,” he mumbled as he stumbled past me down the long corridor. I followed closely, ready to catch him if he tripped or passed out. It was rare to see him so drunk, and it worried me. Had I done this? “C-couldn’t even k-keep your h-hands off my little sister.”
“I’m in love with her,” I stated, not relaxing until Greg collapsed in his favourite recliner.
“Sure it isn’t the baby you l-love?” He mumbled.
“Why does everyone keep insisting that Emma must be pregnant for me to marry her? Is it so hard to believe that I might actually love her?” This was beyond ridiculous. I couldn’t ignore the possibility, but damn it, this was my best friend. He knows me better than I know myself and even he thinks this of me? What kind of dick must I be to have this reaction to an engagement?
“So she isn’t knocked up?” Greg’s glassy eyes lit up seconds before he puked all over the pristine hardwood floor. I grabbed an abandoned popcorn bowl from the coffee table, dumped the contents, and shoved it under his face before I started puking, too. Racing to the kitchen, I grabbed an entire roll of paper towels and a garbage bag. The sour smell in the living room was nearly unbearable. I don’t know what was worse. The smell, or the chunks. Yanking my shirt up over my nose, I got to work cleaning up the mess. When I was finished, Greg passed out, still clutching the bowl.
“Great. So much for working things out,” I grunted, grabbing a clean bowl from the kitchen and swapping it out for the nearly overflowing one. After dealing with that, I grabbed a cloth from the linen closet and ran it under cold water, placing it on his face to cool his red cheeks. When I was finally done, I collapsed on the sofa and put the game on. There wasn’t a chance I was leaving him like this. If he wanted to kick my ass out of here when he sobered up in the morning, fine. But I was going to stick by his side like a terrier until I knew he was ok.
Sunlight streamed through the window in a blinding brilliance that could wake the dead. I rubbed my neck and stretched. Greg was gone. I sat up and listened and could hear groans coming from the kitchen. Following the sounds, I found him slumped on the counter with a large, steaming mug of coffee and a bottle of ibuprofen in front of him. He looked like shit.
“I am not in the mood to deal with you right now,” he growled into the granite. I ignored him and poured a cup of the brew for myself, leaning a hip against the counter as I took that first hot, bitter sip. It was exactly what I needed.
