Dad Bod Under the Mistletoe (Dad Bod Christmas #2)

1. Cassie

one

Cassie

E verything about me jiggles with Christmas cheer while my younger sister, Naya, stares at me in horror.

“You’re not serious,” she blanches, eyes wide as I do a little twirl in the arena where we both work for the Soltero Beach Scorpions Hockey Club. Naya's in charge of the team social media channels and I'm in operations, responsible for moving our players around and scheduling, among other duties. “You look like Christmas vomited all over you.”

Multiple jingle bells circle my wrist, drip from my ears, swing with the crocheted striped elf hat I’m wearing, and dangle off my sparkly tinsel-trimmed lit-up sweater. They ring with my every move through the empty concourse as we make our way towards the offices.

“Thanks! Exactly the look I was going for, but this isn’t even the best part.” I beam at her, raising my hands and pinching the rosy cheeks of Santa’s face stretched across my ample bosom. Admittedly, the placement is a little unfortunate as they sit directly over my nipples, but I don’t expect anyone else to be palming the twins but me. “Wait for it…”

“HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!” booms from my sweater and my sister groans, covering her face with one hand so her ruby engagement ring and stacked wedding band catch the light and wink at me as we step into the elevator.

“I’m definitely winning the ugly sweater contest this year.”

“Congratulations. I’m so embarrassed for you.”

I shake my head, laughing. “Let me have this, okay? With you and Diego both loved up and gross with it, I need to claim every victory I can.”

“We are not gross.” Naya rolls her eyes and presses the button for the floor housing staff offices.

Last season, Naya reconnected with her first love when Elias “Pahlssy” Pahlsson got traded to the team. One concussion later and wham, bam, thank you, ma’am, they’re head over heels for each other and headed to Vegas for a quickie summer wedding.

Then, at the start of this season, our big brother Diego’s game was well and truly in the toilet. But once he hooked up with our brand new corporate sponsor, Angela Kim of A-Glazing Grace’s Donuts, he’s been flying on the ice. Making defensive plays that’s even impress our notoriously hard-to-please Hall of Fame father.

I’m over the moon for my siblings. Honestly, truly, I am.

They deserve it.

But… so do I.

Am I a little salty about being the only one still floundering around in the cesspit that is dating apps while my siblings both found their soulmates in quick succession?

Am I a little frustrated that my track record for picking good men seems permanently primed for a string of commitment-phobic losers?

No. Not at all.

I mean, is some of that my fault? My own choices? Maybe. I’m not known as the Wild Child of the De La Cruz clan for nothing, and I have a healthy appetite for sex.

But it hasn’t been enough.

Deep in the recesses of my heart, I want the man who could go toe-to-toe with me, match my drive, my energy, my passion. I want one ready and willing to take me on, one who won’t run or shun or pretend I’m “just a friend” because they’re happy to bed me but not actually be with me.

More than anything, I want a man to see me as more than an easy score to brag about in the locker room. One who’d actually take the time to dig a little deeper and be worth baring my heart to.

This holiday season, it seems a little lonelier being the last single sibling standing. I’m starting to feel a stretch of desperation slip in. So much so that I nearly signed up for a singles Christmas cruise so I’d have plans to be out of town.

It was a good idea until I told my dad about and he mistook my interest as a suggestion and signed himself up. No way was I going on a singles cruise alongside my dad.

How sad and pathetic would that be?

Ugh.

Something hot and wet pricks at the back of my eyes, and I shake my bottle-blonde hair away from my face. I clear my throat loudly. Now is not the time to be feeling sorry for myself.

I have work to do. Festive fundraisers to help plan. Ugly Christmas sweater contests to win.

Naya shoots me a sidelong glance and reaches over to squeeze my hand. Her touch is meant to be reassuring, so I give her a tight, wobbly smile and plant a kiss on her cheek.

“Come on, sis. You can help me finish decorating my office before the staff meeting.”

“Can’t. The new Director of Player Transitions starts today,” she says, releasing my hand to flip through her phone. “I’m supposed to do a quick profile on him, so I need my morning to do other things. And unless he’s got more holiday cheer than you, I’m pretty sure you’ve got this contest in the bag.”

“Ain’t nobody got more holiday spirit than my girls,” I say, arching my back and pinching Santa’s ruddy cheeks once again just as the elevator doors slide open.

Oh god.

A pair of thick, wide-planted legs catches my notice. I jerk my head up and freeze. My eyes register the beefy, mouth-watering body of a man blocking nearly the whole hallway but locks in on his face. It's the arresting face of a man I haven't seen in years.

A man I never thought I’d see again.

Not since he retired from professional hockey after a career-ending accident.

Time stops. My pulse roars in my ears as I gawk at Mackenzie “Mack T” Tate.

Has he gotten more delectable? More sexy in the years since I’d last seen him suit up and skate on a fresh sheet of ice?

His gaze drops, mouth curling upward as he takes in the sight of me with my fingers still pinching my own tips.

I snatch my hands away just as the sweater sounds.

“HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

Embarrassment burns through me followed by swift, savage lust for the hefty hunk in front of me. Beneath his gaze, I can feel my nipples harden and I hope like hell they aren’t poking through this damn sweater.

I’d stupidly only thrown on the sweater over a light lace bra today because California sweater weather is still pretty damn warm and I’d been determined to keep mine on for the office competition.

Calm your tits, Cass .

We step out of the elevator, but I’m no skinny Minnie and Mack doesn’t bother moving out of the way. His eyes stay glued on me as I’m forced to brush against his big, sturdy body, and even that brief, cursory contact makes me tingle.

Clearly, I’ve neglected my needs for far too long if being in this man’s proximity for two seconds is enough to make me want.

“Cassie, what a surprise.”

His voice is a soft, low rumble that skitters across my skin and makes my body flush hot. What I wouldn’t give to feel that rumble at my back, hear that growl whisper filthy promises in my ear…

No. No, Cassie. This man didn’t want what you offered him years ago. Probably doesn’t want it now.

I glare up at him, catching a flicker of warmth flashing in his deep brown eyes.

“Not really. I’ve been working for the Scorpions organization pretty much forever. The same org my whole family has been entrenched in all my life.” I lift a hand to point at the framed images of my father and brother adorning the walls.

Mack lifts his hands, a hearty chuckle passing his sculpted lips.

“You got me. I should’ve realized the Scorpions are synonymous with the De La Cruzes.”

How annoying that after all this time, my body still reacts to the one man who had refused my advances all those years ago. It’s like there’s an elemental pull I feel toward him, an attraction that makes me unable to resist noticing the breadth of his chest, the quirk of his lips, the way he's expanded to fill out his damn suit.

It’s always been like this with him, and it’s one reason I studiously avoided crossing his path for years after he’d been so quick to shut me down.

“What are you doing here?” I snap, frowning at him.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks, brows rising as he sweeps a hand over his suit. It’s the same cheery red as my mine. The snow-white dress shirt he wears is open at the neck, a few dark chest hairs visible in the vee making me press my thighs together. My evaluative sweep of his body catches on his enormous golden belt buckle glinting in the light, and I fixate on the ways his body has changed since I saw him last.

He’s still got that breathtakingly handsome face, but now he has a thick, dark beard I want to feel scratch against my skin. By one temple, there’s a faint, jagged line of a scar that hadn’t been there when I’d last seen him. The lean muscle from nonstop training has softened and spread into his sturdy build and somehow, the bulkier body he sports now is sexier than his too-trim, too-cut hockey trained one. My mouth goes dry as I take in the expanse of his chest, the breadth of his middle, rounded in a way that makes me wonder how cozy it would be to have his body wrapped around mine for the sweetest winter snuggle by a cozy fire.

Then he slides a hand down over the lanyard he wears, lifting the keycard from his belly and tapping its surface. “I’m the new Director of Player Transitions. In fact, my office is right across from yours. You, um, wrapped it up like a present, didn’t you?”

The floor might as well have dropped out from under me.

“You’re shitting me. You work here?”

“ Cassie ,” Naya hisses next to me, digging her elbow into my ribcage as she extends her hand. “Mr. Tate, I’m Naya Pahlsson-De La Cruz, Cassie’s well-mannered sister. We’re scheduled to catch up for some social media tidbits later, I think.”

Mack glances at her and shakes her hand. “Yes, of course. Looking forward to it. Please, call me Mack or Mack T.”

“Where do you two know each other from?” Naya asks, her eyes bouncing back and forth between us.

“Summer hockey skating skills camp,” I murmur, not taking my eyes off him. “In Montana.”

Mack turns back to me, his eyes rolling over my every curve, sparking a deep ache I’m going to have to go home and handle as soon as possible. It’s like he can see right through the damn thing and my nipples press against the lace. No ugly sweater is hideous enough to hide the swell of my breasts or the spread of my hips from his hot gaze.

“You look good, Cruzzy.”

“Don’t call me that,” I bite out. “We aren’t teammates.”

“Aren’t we?” he dangles the keycard in my face as he steps into the elevator. “Let’s go, Scorpions!”

Then the doors shut and Naya pins me with a look.

“Care to explain?”

“Nope!” I quip, turning to jingle down the hall with decidedly less pep in my step. “Bye, sis. See you at lunch!”

When I get to my office, I stare hard at his freshly mounted name plate. The big bastard was right—his office is directly opposite mine. I’ll have to stare at his sexy, burly body for hours upon hours every single day from here on out.

Fuck.