Havoc for the Holidays (Home for the Holidays)

3. Ollie

Chapter three

Ollie

M y boss’ schedule had been jam-packed with court appearances for the whole week, which meant I was run ragged by the time Friday rolled around again. Such was the life of a paralegal—I was always twice as busy as Richard was. Thankfully, Lincoln was more than happy to pick up Becs from school when he went to get Laney and his older son Laurent. The extra ninety minutes it afforded me were a godsend, and even with those extra minutes, I was still running late to pick her up from ballet.

“Richard! I'm headed out!” I waited for his head to poke over the banister before continuing. “Call me if you need anything over the weekend.”

“Yes, yes. Very good. Have a good night, Ollie. Send the little miss my love.” He flashed a wave and retreated to his office. For as much as I was a homebody with a small circle of friends, Richard took that same qualifier to the extreme. If it weren't for court appearances, I sometimes wondered if the man would leave his house at all.

I hurried to my car and headed toward the studio. Our typically quiet little town was gearing up for another busy weekend of tourists and second home owners. White holiday lights had already started going up ahead of the Christmas season, with a plethora of pumpkins and autumn wreaths still putting on a festive display despite everything being a dreary shade of grey now that the trees had lost their last leaves. I smiled to myself regardless. I adored the holidays. All of them, really, but Christmas most of all. The anticipation buzzing around Windhaven was good for my soul.

Thankfully, the parking lot behind Little Stars was much less crowded than the previous Friday. I prided myself on entering with far more grace than I had the last time, as well. Channeling my best ninja impression, I slipped through the door and cushioned its closure before tiptoeing along the back wall toward where the other parents were seated, thanking my lucky stars I wasn't nearly as late as I had thought I was.

Lincoln smiled and scooted over on the bench as I approached. Once I was seated, he settled Becs’ backpack on my lap. “She’s all sugared up. Chip may or may not have made pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls.”

“Noted. Sounds like it'll be fruit for dessert tonight.” I checked Becs’ take-home folder in between peeks at her cool down routine. And perhaps a few glances at the instructor leading the kids through said routine. “Thank you for picking her up and bringing her today. This week has been… hell. Hell is the only way I can describe it.”

“You know it's my pleasure, Olls. Laney and her are practically sisters at this point. She gets just as much joy from it as Becs does.”

“We’ll have Laney to our place next weekend for a sleepover to return the favor. I'm sure Laur has some friends to spend the night with, too. You and Chip could have a kid-free weekend.” I flashed him a smile that crinkled my eyes. We’d become close friends over the years because of our daughters. It warmed my heart that he'd finally found his person.

“You sure? I know you've been busy. How's school going?” Linc searched my expression and I didn't even bother hiding my grimace.

“It's going. More or less. It'll be better after these next few tests are finished this week.” I shrugged and turned back toward the studio in time to watch the children line up for bows and curtsies. “If I'd known a virtual law degree was this hard, I'd have never enrolled, to be honest.”

“You got this. If you even think of dropping out, I will hunt you down myself. Not after you've come this far.” Linc bumped my shoulder with his. “Remember, ask for help. It's not a crime.”

“Thank you. Honestly. I really couldn't have done any of this without you.” Weariness and the weight of my busy schedule made me an emotional wreck. At least, more emotional than usual.

“Anytime. Ooh, incoming!”

Confused, I glanced around the studio and immediately understood what Linc had meant. Ezechiel was headed straight toward us, his flowy tunic shirt a vibrant red color this week. I absolutely did not admire how it complemented the black dance tights. Nor did I gape at the lean, muscled legs flexing inside the aforementioned tights as he approached. Not much, anyway. Maybe just a little.

“Evening. Ollie and Lincoln, right?” Ezechiel’s voice forced me to tear my eyes upward. I absolutely was not staring at his thighs.

“You get a gold star, Ezechiel. Great lesson today. You're really good with kids.” Linc not-so-subtly elbowed my side as he talked.

“Oh. Right. Good job.” Good job? Did I really decide to go with good job? Wow.

“I do pride myself on a job well done. I'm glad you noticed, Oliver.” Ezechiel propped his palms on my hips. My eyes tracked the movement as warmth flooded my cheeks. Of course I had to blush.

“You're welcome?” A nervous laugh slipped from my lips as I hugged Becs’ unicorn backpack to my chest. “So… um, settling in well?”

“Mostly. Still haven't explored much of the town though. I vaguely recall an offer of a personal tour?” Ezechiel tilted his head to the side with a small smirk.

“Oh. Oh! Right. I did say that, more or less. Sort of.” I bobbed my head up and down too fast. I was a hot mess on a good day. Evidently, in front of gorgeous men in dance tights, I turned into a full scale spicy disaster. “Sounds like a plan?”

“Linc, help me understand—was that a question or an agreement?” Ezechiel’s smirk grew in intensity, as did the heat in my face.

“That was an Ollie. He’ll absolutely be giving you that tour.” Linc smiled as the girls came tumbling over fresh from the changing room. “Great work today! Did you have fun?”

“Heck yeah!” Laney bounced closer and smooched her father on the cheek.

“Daddy!” I barely had time to brace before my Becs landed in my lap with a giggle. “Did you watch me?”

“I did, little darling.” I tried to neaten her hair but swiftly abandoned the effort. Our curls were stubborn. Most efforts to tame them were futile. “You did a good job.”

“That she did. They all did. Next week is twice a week practice. Don't forget.” Ezechiel took a step back and flicked his hand to the side. “Evening, girls. Gentlemen.”

I waved, which was about as awkward as I felt, and he responded with a wink. His natural, effusive confidence had me feeling wholly inadequate. So much so, I kept waving like an utter fool, even after he turned away to speak to another parent.

“Good God, Ollie. You're hopeless.”

My eyes snapped toward Lincoln. “Oh?”

“Oh. You and the ‘ohs’ are both hopeless.” He tipped his chin toward the back door. “Outside, now. We’re having an intervention.”

I blinked in disbelief, but followed him outside nevertheless. Once we each had our daughters tucked inside our vehicles, he reeled on me with a laugh while shaking his head.

“Oliver Branson, you can't possibly be this hopeless. Please tell me you actually know how to flirt?”

I scoffed so hard, I started coughing as the chilly air hit the back of my throat. Once I regained the ability to speak, the words came out in a rush of garbled syllables. “What?! I wasn't flirting! No. God. Absolutely not. Never!”

“Well, he was. Please at least tell me you noticed that ?”

“Pssh! He was not flirting with me. He was just being nice.” I scrunched my nose and huffed. “He would never. He's all… suave and confident. I'm just… me.”

“Olls, hon. You're a gem. Why wouldn't an attractive man flirt with you? And for the record, he absolutely was.” Linc pulled me into a hug. “Time to live a little, Ollie. You're only twenty-two. Being a single dad isn't supposed to be a death sentence for your dick.”

I sputtered and scoffed and made all manner of unattractive sounds of protest as I pulled back to gape in horror at my best friend. “You did not just say—”

“I absolutely did say that and I will say it as many times as I need to.” Linc grabbed me by the shoulders and gave a firm shake. “Live a little, Olls. Have some fun. And for the love of God… please don't make those sounds when you go on your quasi-date with the hot dancer, okay?”

He cackled as he walked backward toward his car before I could sputter a coherent sentence. I scowled just to be sure he understood what I was trying and failing to say. All that resulted in was him laughing. Harder. He'd realize how wrong he was soon. I carried that knowledge with me as I walked around the front of my car and climbed into the driver's seat.

“What's for dinner?” Becs immediately asked before I even had my belt fastened.

“Slow cooker chicken and rice, my love.” I waved to Lincoln as he drove by before shifting the car out of the parking spot and toward the road. “Fruit smoothies for dessert, miss. I heard about the cinnamon roll.”

“Yeah, it was awesome. Mr. Chip makes them the size of my whole head!” She dove head first into a rambling monologue about cinnamon rolls, school antics, a vivid retelling of her pretend play with Laney, and about half a dozen other things I could vaguely follow. I oohed and ahhed and nodded at all the right places, at least.

Our commute was hardly that at all, but this side of Windhaven was where few tourists and visitors ever ventured. The town itself was a wealthy one courtesy of the ski resort and second home owners keen on turning it into a year-round getaway. That didn't necessarily mean that all the local residents were even close to wealthy, myself included in that number. Our apartment was one of four in the building located at the end of a narrow street that was all but hidden between two historic homes that faced the quintessential Main Street.

Despite the lack of glamor and mountain top charm, it was home and had been for four years. We climbed the creaky stairs hand in hand and as soon as I opened the door, Becs took off inside, still regaling me with tales from her exciting day as a kindergarten student and prima ballerina. The weight from my day melted away the second my shoes landed on the pile by the door.

“Hey, don't get distracted! Dinner will be ready any second.”

“Okaaay, Daddy!” Her singsong warble filtered through the apartment from the direction of her bedroom as I turned toward the kitchen. If I had to guess, she was feeding her pet fish. He or she was the third iteration of Bubbles ever since I’d bought her the tank for her birthday in September. Thank God feeder goldfish only cost five cents and all looked the same.

I rummaged in the fridge until I found the last hard cider and dug out my cell to text my parents. We were close, despite the distance between us. As soon as I'd turned eighteen, they’d packed their bags to head to Florida for their well-earned retirement. Helping their teenage son raise a newborn baby while he was still in high school more than qualified them for that early retirement.

I sent them a message and chuckled quietly under my breath as the phone started ringing. I answered it and tucked the phone against my shoulder so I could finish preparing dinner.

“Hello, Mom. How're you?”

“Wonderful! How are you and my baby doing?”

“She's excited for the showcase. I told you they're doing the Nutcracker this year, right?” I stirred the casserole in the slow cooker and flipped the switch off. A tiny flame of pride sparked in my chest over how good it smelled.

“You did! We have our flights booked already. We’ll be flying in two days before and staying through the New Year.”

I squinted at the school calendar and tried to find the date amid all the colorful, and prolific, activities that filled all the little boxes. “So… about four or five weeks from now?”

“Roundabout. We’re staying at the Inn. Where's my baby?”

“Hold on, I'll get her. We just got home.” I pulled the phone away from my ear and hollered. “Becs! Nana’s on the phone!”

A squeal of delight and the pounding of her stocking clad feet filled the apartment as she careened into the kitchen and snatched the phone from my hand. I once again thanked my lucky stars that our downstairs neighbor was deaf as a doorknob as I focused on dishing out our dinner. All in all, it was the perfect way to end a hellish week—food, family, and the promise of a fun weekend at home.