Hockey Holidays Read online

The sound of the front door opening jumped his heartbeat into overdrive.

  "Vince?"

  He scrambled from behind the tree. Something caught his leg like a trip wire. He pitched forward. And grabbed hold of the tree.

  Instead of stopping his fall, it went along for the ride.

  The floor rushed up to meet him. He slammed onto the unforgiving hardwood and got a face full of pine needles. Ornaments crashed and shattered and rolled. The bottom of his pant leg grew damp, no doubt from the water in the stand.

  "Holy shit." Joseph's voice, along with the pounding of sneakers, grew closer.

  Vince lifted his head. Everything hurt like he'd been checked into the boards sans helmet and pads by the biggest guy in the league.

  Face creased in concern, Joseph eased gentle hands under Vince's shoulders and lifted him to his knees. "Are you okay?"

  "I… think so." Aside from his face stinging and his knees and hands throbbing. And the tree branch jabbing him in the gut.

  Joseph's hands brushed over Vince's face and hair, and then in sweeping motions across his chest and stomach. "You're covered in ornament fragments. What were you doing?"

  "I was trying to hide the tree's bare spot." The shock wore off enough for him to fully see the mess he'd made. "Wow."

  "That's one word for it." With a teasing smile, Joseph stood and held out his hands. "Come on, let's get you up."

  Standing hurt. He tested his range of motion, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. If that stayed for more than a day, he'd need to talk to the team's medical staff. "It looks like the Grinch got loose in here."

  He and Joseph set the tree upright. The floor was littered with shards of glass, silver and white.

  At his feet lay the shattered remains of the Our first Christmas ornament. He crouched and carefully picked up a piece. There wasn't enough glue in the world to put it back together.

  Joseph put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. We can get another."

  "Sure." But it wouldn't be the same.

  "I'll get the broom and dustpan. You get the vacuum." Joseph's dark gaze traveled from Vince's head to his feet. "Get changed too, in case you have tiny pieces of glass clinging to you."

  "Good idea." As he stood, he spied the wire for the strand of tree lights laying unplugged on the floor. Pointing to it, he rubbed a hand over his jaw. "I know what I tripped over."

  Joseph didn't answer him. He'd moved to a spot on the other side of the tree and knelt on the floor.

  "Joseph?" Vince cautiously rounded the tree, and his stomach tightened at Joseph's stricken expression.

  His lover held a battered photograph and several shattered pieces of an ornament shaped like a gingerbread man. And his throat worked like he was trying to keep a tight lid on his emotions.

  Vince's heart sank. "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry."

  Joseph's sad smile nearly broke him. "My parents split up after that Christmas. We went to a holiday craft fair that year and made this together. They fought all the time, but that day, everything was nice and peaceful."

  "I know. I'll fix it."

  "It's in too many pieces, and they're too small to put back together." Clearing his throat, Joseph stood. He left the ornament on the floor. "I'll get the broom."

  Desperate to help Joseph shed the shadow of sadness, Vince gathered the pieces, using one of the wrapped presents as a tray, and carried them into the den. Awful didn't begin to cover how bad he felt. He had to fix this.

  By the time he returned with the vacuum, Joseph was halfway finished sweeping the floor. They worked in silence to clear the remaining debris.

  Joseph left the room while Vince did a few extra passes over the floor for insurance. In the corner of his vision Vince watched him go, his stomach like a lead weight. He knew how much the ornament meant, and what it represented.

  Disgusted with himself, he turned off the vacuum.

  "Hey." Joseph stood in the room's entrance, dressed in new running gear. He tugged on his hat and gloves and held up a water bottle. "I'm going out for a run."

  "But you already did that today."

  "I'm going for another." He raised his chin, and his expression and rigid stance warned Vince off arguing with him.

  "Okay. Want some company? I can be ready in five minutes."

  With a shake of his head, Joseph backed into the hall. "I need to be alone for a while."

  The weight in Vince's gut doubled. "All right. Be safe."

  Wearing a stiff smile, and giving an even stiffer wave, Joseph left. The tension in the room didn't dissipate with his exit. And the tree, with its staggering lack of ornaments, stood as a reminder of Vince's carelessness.

  He was almost happy that his shoulder still hurt. He deserved to feel pain.

  How was he going to fix this?

  Finding the super glue was the first step. Maybe fixing the ornament wasn't as hopeless as it seemed. He had to try.

  As he climbed the stairs, the rings jostled in his pocket.

  The rings.

  Guilt flashed again, as bright as a siren's light.

  The proposal would have to wait. After all that had happened, today most definitely wasn't the right time.

  Chapter Three

  The cold air stung his face and tingled his fingertips and turned his breaths into little cloud-like puffs. Joseph ran until his lungs hurt and his limbs felt like rubber. It was too bad the cold couldn't also numb his emotions.

  He hadn't expected to react so strongly to the broken ornament. It wasn't like the photograph had been ruined. And even if it had, so what? Both of his parents were still alive. They'd both gone on to remarry after the divorce and had children with their new spouses, and he'd grown up feeling forgotten and cast aside. Except for Nonna. Her house had been a refuge, where he'd been seen and loved.

  Besides, he wasn't a kid anymore. Being upset about the shattered gingerbread man was silly.

  Maybe it was simply that compared to last Christmas, too many things had changed. The city. The job. The friends. The apartment. Everything. Losing that ornament was just one more thing taken away. One less thing comfortable and familiar.

  But you chose this.

  He had. And he would again. He loved Vince. He just hadn't expected the adjustment to be so hard.

  The wind picked up speed, rustling the treetops. It stole his breath and knocked down holiday decorations like a bowling ball scattering pins. He couldn't shake the image of Vince standing in the living room as he'd left… Vince clearly felt terrible. And Joseph's need to get away to process everything might have made him feel even worse.

  The stab of guilt throbbing in his chest was as sharp as a double-edged sword.

  He changed direction and headed toward home.

  Twenty minutes later, he turned onto their street and slowed his pace. One block wasn't nearly enough time for a proper cool down, but it was better than none at all.

  Leo's car sat in their driveway. Joseph hadn't been sure what to expect when he'd first met Vince's best friend, but in the months since, he'd learned that the Bedlam's resident tough guy and alternate captain was as kind as he was protective. He knew Leo liked him. But there was no doubt in his mind that if he hurt Vince, he'd be answering to Leo.

  He unlocked the front door and pulled off his hat and gloves as he entered. "Vince?"

  "In the kitchen."

  After kicking off his sneakers, he headed in, downing the remaining contents of his water bottle.

  The pungent odor of alcohol assaulted his nose and made him gag. Vince sat at the table with his hand in a bowl. Leo stood beside him, pouring in clear liquid from a white bottle.

  "Hey." Joseph pulled out the chair on Vince's other side. "What's going on? And what's that smell?"

  "Nail polish remover." Twin spots of pink bloomed on Vince's cheeks. "I was trying to fix the ornament and ended up gluing my fingers together."

  On the other side of the table, the chards and fragments of the gingerbread man lay on top of a sheet of foil,