Hockey Holidays Read online

  But then Isaac had never been the positive one in the family. Avery would chide him for such negative thoughts. After all, who’d have guessed they’d be here together after all those years of estrangement and near hatred of each other?

  Isaac heaved a sigh. He turned away from his brothers and toward the kitchen. Avery hurried toward him and grasped his hand and squeezed it. “Know anywhere we can get a decent meal tonight?” She smiled wryly and pointed at the still smoking and blackened ham.

  He had to smile. She was the love of his life. For her he would step out of his comfort zone and try to be a better man. Isaac didn’t do change well, but he was giving it his best shot. “We could start calling around.”

  She nodded. “We have plenty for dinner tomorrow but this ham was the main dish for tonight’s dinner.”

  “At least the burned smell is covering up Hal’s farts. We have to insist the kids stop feeding him table scraps.”

  “It’s pretty rank.” Avery nodded vigorously as both their gazes landed on Hal, the cranky boxer, who was now lying next to Zeke and Paisley’s kids across the room. His snores could be heard loud and clear.

  “I’ll make some calls.” Isaac whipped out his phone and did a quick search for local restaurants, not that the island of two-thousand residents had many to choose from, especially on Christmas Eve.

  Avery stole the phone from him. “Keep your brothers from killing each other. I’ll make the calls.”

  Isaac nodded reluctantly and walked over to Zeke and Tanner—the things he did for love.

  Standing between them, he clapped a hand on each brother’s shoulder. His comradely grin was forced and hurt his face. Tanner stiffened, and Zeke’s face hardened into an unreadable mask. Isaac held back a frustrated sigh. They still had a long way to go, and he honestly wondered at times if they’d ever get there.

  “Baseball players are soft and lazy. Look at all the fat baseball players. You don’t see out-of-shape guys like that in football.” Tanner turned to Isaac. “Or hockey. Right, Isaac?”

  Isaac didn’t want to get involved in this particular debate, which had the potential to turn ugly. He shrugged and said nothing.

  “You guys are grossly overpaid. Your bodies don’t take nearly the toll as athletes’ bodies in contact sports.” Tanner had that same self-righteous smirk he used to taunt the opposing defense and made Isaac’s temper flare. He chanced a quick glance at Avery. She gave him a wink and grinned. He frowned, feeling the weight of this family on his shoulders.

  Zeke pushed Isaac out of the way and stood toe to toe with their middle brother. “You fucking asshole. You don’t have a clue what it takes to play baseball, the grueling schedule, the travelling, the stress to be worth all the money they’re paying you.”

  Tanner clutched his chest in mock sympathy. “Ah, you poor, misunderstood bastard. Isaac knows all about grueling schedules. The NHL plays just as many games and their bodies get punished every damn one, yet they’re the lowest-paid athletes in the major pro sports.”

  Isaac wasn’t sure how he’d gotten dragged into this, but he needed to stop it now. He could see the women casting anxious glances their way.

  “Hey, let’s not argue on Christmas Eve,” he said lamely.

  Zeke snorted and Tanner rolled his eyes.

  “You think you’re so perfect, big brother?” Tanner growled, turning the full force of his irritation with Zeke onto Isaac.

  “Baseball requires fine-tuned athletic ability, sharp eyes, and strategic thinking.” Zeke jabbed his finger into Tanner’s chest. Their middle brother glared at the offending finger. The heat from his gaze alone should’ve burnt a hole in Zeke’s finger.

  “Fucking bullshit,” Tanner exploded, ignoring the chastising looks of the women in the room. “Football is the toughest sport there is. Talk about strategy. Football is like playing chess on a hundred-yard-long chessboard. Baseball players are wusses. Half of you are entitled prima donnas. The other half are lazy asses who make too much money. And let’s not forget hockey. Hockey players have shit for brains and who wants to watch hockey, anyway?”

  “Football players only have to play one game a week and even then they whine about it. Hockey players just skate around and knock guys on their ass while trying to get a piece of rubber past a guy wrapped in so much padding he can’t move worth shit,” Zeke shot back.

  “There’s a reason hockey is the least popular sport in the US. They never score and who wants to watch a bunch of grown men skate around for a few hours with nothing happening?” Tanner said.

  “It’s boring as hell,” Zeke agreed. At least they were agreeing on something.

  They were also baiting him, trying to pull him into their pointless bickering. He should be better than that. Set a good example as the oldest brother. Yeah, he should, but he couldn’t.

  “Hockey players aren’t the brightest guys in pro sports,” Tanner added.

  “They’re about as dumb as they come,” Zeke said.

  Isaac’s blood boiled to a breaking point. When both brothers cast superior smirks his way, he lost it and jumped into the fray. He hadn’t meant to, but his brothers were disrespecting hockey, and he couldn’t let that happen.

  “You’re morons. Both of you. Everyone knows hockey players are the toughest mentally and physically. I’d like to see either of you survive one shift on skates against any of the NHL’s finest.” His voice rose to be heard over his brothers’ indignant retorts.

  Isaac ignored the irritated stares from the women, especially his wife. He was hell-bent on setting his ignorant brothers straight. God, it was times like this when he could see their asshole father too clearly in both of them. Not him, of course.

  Tanner’s face glowed a deep, dark red, and his gaze narrowed until his eyes were just slits. He was pissed. Fuck him. Isaac was pissed, too.

  “Hockey is a fourth-rate sport below the big three. You guys get paid shit.” Zeke smirked, knowing he was making bank compared to his brothers.

  Forgetting Tanner, Isaac turned on his baby brother. “Just ’cause we’re paid shit doesn’t mean we aren’t the best athletes. Hell, baseball players get paid embarrassingly huge amounts of money and are in the worst athletic shape of the bunch. You assholes don’t put your bodies on the line the way hockey players do.” His fisted hands twitched in anticipation of wiping the smirk from Zeke’s face.

  “And you’re bragging about not earning your money?” Tanner snorted with undisguised disgust. “Baseball players are all pansies.”

  “Fuck you both.” Zeke gave them the middle finger.

  And the entire discussion went downhill from there. At least they didn’t come to blows. Not yet, anyway.

  Chapter Two

  Avery, Isaac’s wife, had never been much for cooking or baking, but she gave it a shot under Emma’s watchful eye. Her twin sister, also Tanner’s wife, had been even more domestic than usual. Most likely some nesting instinct brought about by being four months pregnant. Emma insisted they make pies from scratch, including the crust. Both Avery and Paisley, Zeke’s wife, had tried to sneak in some frozen pie crust, but Emma would have none of it.

  As they rolled out the crust on the large kitchen island, they were covered in more flour than the counter. Except Emma. Somehow she managed to stay pristine and flour-free.

  Suddenly there was a bang and the entire room went dark except for the fire blazing in the two-story stone fireplace that dominated one side of the great room.

  “Shit,” Isaac muttered. “Sounds like the island lost a transformer.”

  Zeke pressed his face against the large window. “I don’t see any lights on at any of the neighbors’ houses, so it’s widespread.”

  “And the ham is burnt to a crisp. We don’t have anything for dinner.” Emma sighed. She might be Avery’s twin, but they were total opposites. Emma was the domestic one, while Avery could barely boil water and didn’t care to learn.

  “We could make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Paisley