War (Boston Bolts Hockey #3)

10. Ava

TEN

AVA

“Where’s the good whiskey?” Chandler Warren booms from where he’s inspecting the liquor cabinet.

For probably the fifth time tonight, I assess War, dissecting his reaction. This kinship I feel with him came out of nowhere, and it’s freaking me out. Kind of like the warmth that seeps through me when I watch him squeeze Brayden’s shoulder as he gets up from the table and heads in his father’s direction.

I recognized Brayden immediately. He was the boy playing hockey at the YMCA charity event last week. The one War hefted onto his shoulder after he scored a goal. I’ve seen him at several other events since I started working at Langfield Corp, though I can’t remember War being at a single one of them. What the heck? I’ve been thrown for a loop, but I can’t just come out and ask why he’s here—without his own family—or how they know one another.

Maria headed out to be with her family shortly after we arrived. Her kids are home from college, and since the Bolts have a few days off, she’s spending the holidays with them. I’m relieved that she gets the time away, but at the same time, I’m desperate to ask her all the questions that are swirling in my mind.

Questions like why is War adopting Josie? What happened to her mother? And when did the man across the table become this person? This good guy, this perfect parent? Because the War I know is the antithesis of those traits.

Brayden pushes his shaggy dark brown hockey hair out of his face as he hands Scarlett a crayon. I’m almost positive he’s not Tyler’s biological son. I’d know if he was, right? It would be public information. Sara and Hannah would definitely know. So would the guys. Even though the two don’t share DNA, they share so many traits. Brayden’s eyes are almost the same striking blue as Tyler’s, and though his face isn’t covered in a day-old scruff, he has a similar bone structure. Strong cheekbones, narrow face, lips that pout all on their own. He’ll be a heartbreaker one day, just like the man beside him.

The little girl on his lap has her tongue peeking out of her mouth, totally focused as she scribbles all over the Santa picture Josie plopped in front of her when she started to fuss as we cleared the table.

Josie’s incredibly good with her little sister. Patient, loving, and attentive. Not that I’d expect anything less. The only thing Josie has ever wanted was a family, so witnessing these interactions warms me in a way I can’t explain.

“Can we play Go Fish?” Josie appears at the table, already holding a deck of cards and scanning the group expectantly.

“I would,” Bray replies, nodding at the little girl in his lap. “But she’ll probably steal the cards from me.”

With a laugh, I scoop her up. “I can balance her and play with my other hand. Deal the cards, love bug.”

Grinning wide, she rounds the table, dealing out cards to each person. When she gets to Xander, she pauses, her expression turning cautious. “Do you want to play?”

He nods. “Sure. Deal me in. I’ll grab a drink, then be back to play.” He stands and presses a kiss to my forehead.

I suck in a breath, hoping Josie didn’t see. I don’t typically shy away from public displays of affection, and the way Xander offers it freely is one of the things I love most about him. But War’s words when we arrived have been playing on repeat in my mind all night. We aren’t married. I’m not Josie’s aunt, and I don’t want her to get her hopes up that I will be one day. Though that wouldn’t be terrible. Even if I can’t be her mom, I’ll take any position in her life .

Fortunately, Josie is busy dealing and doesn’t notice. But Brayden does. His blue eyes are piercing as he assesses me. It’s uncanny, how similar the expression is to War’s. I give him a smile, doing my best not to squirm under his scrutiny. Rather than return the expression, he lowers his focus to his cards.

Before I can overthink the interaction, a chubby hand grasps my face. “Mama,” Scarlett murmurs.

My heart skips, and heat creeps up my cheeks. With a shake of my head, I huff out a breath. “She probably calls everyone that, huh?”

Josie giggles, her face lit up as brightly as the lights on the tree. “Nope. I’m sissy, Brayden is Bray and Maria is MiMi.”

With a long breath out, I kiss the top of the little girl’s head. “Aren’t you a little love.”

I don’t ask what she calls War. It’s better that I don’t know. If she calls him Daddy in my presence, I’ll probably turn as red as the suit the creepy dancing Santa is wearing. It’s the only ridiculous decoration. Every other piece is tasteful and festive. It’s unnerving how warm and welcoming his house is. How comfortable I feel in it.

I should be uncomfortable. I should be staring at the door, ready to run. Instead, I don’t want the evening to end. And I’m wishing I could wake up here in the morning and watch the kids light up as they open their gifts. Though I despise War more often than not, after seeing him in dad mode tonight, I have a feeling he’s gone over the top as Santa.

And I don’t know how I feel about that.

“You’re good with her.” Dory returns from the kitchen, a glass of wine in her hand. There’s not a strand of gray in her hair, nor a wrinkle on her face. She’s the opposite of my mother, who never had the time or money to focus on how she was aging, let alone the interest. The only thing my mother has going for her is her red hair. Red often doesn’t go gray, and my mother’s hasn’t. Dory’s long blond hair is curled into loose waves, and her hands glitter with diamonds. Her necklace sparkles just as brightly in contrast to the burgundy sweater set it’s settled on. She’s as beautiful as she is kind. Xander is fortunate to have such a close relationship with his parents. In the last several months, we’ve had dinner with them weekly, meaning I’ve had the opportunity to spend time with both his mother and his stepfather, and I’ve come to treasure my relationship with her.

“She’s sweet.” I give the little girl on my lap a squeeze.

With her hand wrapped around a crayon, she practically murders the image in front of her, covering it in slashes of red.

Chuckling, I drop a kiss on the top of her head and savor the soothing scent of her baby shampoo. Then I pat the seat beside me. “Want to play with us?”

With a wave of her hand, she rounds the table. “I’ll let Josie sit by you.” The smile she wears is knowing as she eases into a chair across from me.

Of course she’s noticed our bond. All night, my girl has been by my side, and that’s right where I want her. Josie plops into the empty chair, immediately resting her head on my shoulder, and I nuzzle mine against hers, relishing the precious time I’ve been given with both girls.

“You’re a natural mother,” Chandler booms as he approaches.

Behind him, both War and Xander are watching me. War’s gaze is intense, making my stomach do an odd little flip. Is he angry? I blink and avert my attention, not liking the way his scrutiny weighs on me. Instead, I focus on Xander. Instantly, I realize that was a mistake, because he’s radiating a warmth I’ve never seen.

“She is, isn’t she?” he says, his tone brimming with pride. He settles beside Chandler, always seeking his approval. “You want to have one of our own, sweetheart?”

My stomach bottoms out, and there’s no stopping the scowl that overtakes my face. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I peer over at War, only to find his eyes lit up like he’s delighted by my reaction.

That only makes my frown deepen.

Xander knows I don’t want children of my own, and he knows why.

If heartbreak were a living, breathing thing, it would be beating wildly beside me. Always. He knows that.

Truly the only time I feel even remotely whole, remotely alive, like I can walk and breathe at the same time, is when I’m with Josie. So I turn my focus on her, willing my racing heart to settle. As I drink her in, my fractured nerves realign and my breathing evens out. “My love bug right here is enough for me.”

Josie tips her head back, beaming, completely unaware of the tension building inside me. The little one on my lap throws her head back, walloping me in the chest and forcing a surprised laugh from me.

I kiss her nose. “And you, my little love. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you.”

These two are perfect. What I would create would never be perfect, because broken people don’t create beautiful things.

“Of course,” Dory prods, picking up her glass of wine. “She’s still so young, Xander. You both are.”

Chandler huffs, as if this is a topic he has any say in, smoothing a hand over the front of his sweater. “Xander and Tyler are the same age, and Tyler is raising three kids.” With a long sip of whiskey, he arches a brow at his stepson. “A beautiful wife, a baby. They’re the next steps. Xander knows this. Our clients love that our company is family-owned. That my son works with me.”

Jaw rigid and eyes icy, War pulls out the chair beside Brayden, the move making its legs scrape harshly on the hardwood floor. “Are we going to play?”

Tension thrums at the table, even as we all turn our focus to the children’s game. In my periphery, I catch Xander staring at War. His expression almost a sneer. It’s unsettling, that action. I’ve never seen this side of him.

Chandler often challenges Xander, but it’s always related to work. As if he’s pushing him to strive for more. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him interact with both of his sons, and I swear it felt like he was pitting them against one another just now. Telling Xander to get in line, using War’s new status as a father to do so while simultaneously touting Xander’s position in the family business.

Did he ever hope War would go into finance too? Did he encourage his passion for hockey, or did he try to push him in a different direction?

Silently, I survey one man, then the next, assessing all three of them, trying to read between the lines. Though it seems that not a single adult at this table is an open book.

Dory smiles dotingly at her son, then focuses on her cards again. Does she notice that Chandler is pitting the boys against one another? Does she even care? I haven’t so much as seen her address War, and it’s…troubling.

Chandler is wearing a self-satisfied smirk as he sips his whiskey and scrolls on his phone. Even Xander is hard to read right now. He put me in this terrible position, bringing up a topic he knows is traumatic for me. It’s a subject I’ve been honest about since day one, yet now, he’s acting as though I haven’t made my intentions clear. And what the heck is with the way he’s got his chest practically puffed out, like he’s peacocking for his father?

Then there is Tyler Warren. He might be the easiest to read. He may be wearing a blank expression, but the anger rolling off him is palpable. I’m still staring when Brayden nudges him and holds his phone out, showing him something that’s probably sports related, based on the topics the kid has brought up tonight. Only then does War’s body slump and his face soften. It’s clear he cares.

How is it possible that in this room filled with people I once thought so highly of, Tyler Warren is the one I feel most connected to in this moment?

“Can we play already?” Josie whines.

War chuckles. “Okay, fighter. Can I be on your team? I’m not very good.”

I roll my eyes and look down at my cards.

“Got something to say, Ava?” War’s tone has my eyes flying up, and my stupid cheeks go warm when I see the amusement in his eyes. I need to stop being so easy to read. It’s clear the jerk loves to goad me.

Josie scoots closer to him. “’Kay, but no telling everyone what cards I have.” She pulls hers close to her chest and peers up at him with the same knowing look he wears when he stares at everyone else. It’s so strange seeing the two of them together. It’s like they fit. I’m equally annoyed and intrigued by it. How does a tattooed bad boy fit with the sweetest little girl to ever live ?

“Have I ever steered ya wrong, kid?” he says, wearing the same expression.

She shrugs. “There was that time you promised to let me paint your nails and then you refused to let me pick the color.”

“I told you I’d do any color but pink.”

Brayden hides behind his cards, shaking with laughter, and I find myself doing the same. When I look at War again, he smiles. Then he does this thing that has me all out of sorts.

He winks. Yup. Tyler freaking Warren winks at me.

My body betrays me as a sizzle of heat rushes through me. What was that? I’m pretty sure the man hasn’t smiled at me since the day we met, and I know for a fact that I’ve never seen him wink. It’s dangerous. Deadly. Seriously, a wink from this gorgeous man should come with a warning. He shouldn’t be allowed to do it. The gods, or whoever is out there determining who gets winking abilities, shouldn’t allow people who have that kind of swagger to wink. It’s unfair.

“Do you have a four?” I ask Brayden.

“Go fish,” he says with a smile.

I pick up a card, which is not a four, and sigh.

Tyler knocks shoulders with Josie, and when it’s her turn, she giggles. “Do you have a four, Ava?”

“Tyler Warren, are you helping her beat me?” I say, affronted, as I hand Josie my card. She sets it down next to hers with a big smile.

War is still sporting that same smile, only this time, his eyes dance as he watches me with a focus that rivals how he acts when he’s on the ice. Determined. Cocky. Sure of whatever plan he’s hatched. “What can I say, Vicious? I play to win.”

The way he’s looking at me should make me uncomfortable. It should make me annoyed. Instead, it only makes my heart beat wildly in my chest. An experience I don’t want to even try to understand. Flustered, I look away, only to find both Dory and Xander with their eyes on me. And neither of them appears happy.

After two rounds of go fish, Chandler stretches and says it’s time to go.

My stomach sinks. Though I’m still confused and frustrated by the way he acted earlier, I don’t want him to leave. Once he and Dory are gone, Xander will want to go too, and I’m not ready to say good night. This is the first holiday I’ve enjoyed in years. Despite that bout of tension, it’s been magical. Spending time with Josie is always a joy, but tonight, witnessing how happy and carefree she is in her home, surrounded by the people she considers family, it’s nothing short of beautiful.

For a little while, it made me forget how much I miss my own family. How much I miss the years where the laughter outweighed the tears.

Before guilt can seep in—along with the pressure of knowing my mother is not enjoying this night in the same way I am—Josie grabs my hand. “Will you help me get ready for bed and read me a story before you go?”

My heart melts into a puddle at the request. As if I’d ever say no. “Of course, love bug. What about Scarlett?”

Tyler pushes back from the table. “I’ll take her up. Come here, mon chou.” He holds his arms out to his little girl.

Arching a brow, I hold Scarlett closer.

He chuckles. “I’m French Canadian, remember.”

“So she’s your little shoe?”

“Means cabbage, actually.” Brayden coughs out a laugh. “He tried to use it with me, but I pushed him into the boards.”

Scarlett launches herself at War and snuggles into his neck, already rubbing her eyes.

With a hum, he kisses her head, then smirks at Brayden. “As if I’d ever let you push me into the boards.” With that, he’s sauntering away, tossing an “I’ll be back” over his shoulder.

Watching him walk away while murmuring unintelligible words to Scarlett has my stomach doing that silly little flip again. What the heck? I can’t blame the reaction on his forearms today, since he’s wearing a black sweater. Will he give her a bath before bed? If so, surely, he’d have to pull those sleeves up?—

“You okay over there?” Brayden mutters.

Blinking, I drag the back of my hand over my mouth and swipe at the liquid pooling there.

Crap. I was definitely drooling.

God, this is bad.

Since when do I find War hot?

I do not find him attractive. No, I hate him.

Only, that’s not entirely true. When I met him, I thought he was hot, but since then, nope, I haven’t given him a second thought.

If only that were the truth. Gah. I’m losing it. It’s the baby thing. Or the dad thing. It’s definitely not a him thing.

“Ready to bring me up?” Josie asks, clambering out of her chair and saving me from my thoughts.

“Yup.” Standing, I push my chair in gently. Then I check in with Xander, even though I’m still irritated with him. I promised I wouldn’t forget him, and I meant it. “You okay with hanging out for a bit while I tuck her in?”

He pushes back from the table and nods toward the door to the deck. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Josie’s gaze bounces between us. So does Brayden’s.

Dory, bless her, calls Josie over. “What did you ask Santa to bring you?”

I smile at her, appreciating her willingness to buy us a few minutes, even if she’s only doing it for her son, and then slip away with Xander. The icy wind whips around us, blowing my hair into my face and instantly making me shiver. “Everything okay?”

“Why are you acting weird?”

Arms crossed, I tip my head back and glare at him. “What are you talking about?”

“What the hell was that with Tyler? Why did he call you vicious?”

Frowning, I sigh. “I have no idea why Tyler does anything he does. Why don’t you ask him?”

“Oh, believe me, I would love to ask him why he’s flirting with my girlfriend right in front of me, but the better question is, why were you flirting back?”

I swallow. I have no good argument. Though I wasn’t exactly flirting, I certainly wasn’t able to keep my eyes off him .

Fortunately Xander doesn’t seem to expect a response. He just launches into his next rant. “And what was that whole these kids are enough for me comment? They aren’t your kids, Ava. Josie isn’t your daughter.”

The words slice through me, cutting so deep I expect to find blood pooling at my feet. The worst part is that I’m not even prepared for them. Normally, I’m ready for the inevitable bad things. I expect them. It’s a defense mechanism built up over years and years. But I truly didn’t see his harsh words coming.

“W-what?”

“My dad’s right, Ave.” He softens his tone, though it does nothing to soothe me. “It’s time we take the next step. Moving in together, marriage, kids. It’s what’s expected of me.”

What’s expected of him? He wants me to have children with him because it’s what’s expected of him ? I’m so dumbfounded by his audacity that all I can do is blink as a wave of rage overwhelms me.

He’s mad because I’m close with Josie. He thinks that because I love her, I’ll eventually want my own kids. But if so, he hasn’t been listening to a thing I’ve said since we met. I couldn’t stop loving Josie if I tried, the moment I met her I was a goner, wanting to be close to her isn’t a choice, but it is a choice not to get pregnant and allow another child into my heart only to suffer another unimaginable loss.

“Go say good night to Josie, and let’s get out of here. It’s getting late, and the guys are meeting up for a drink tonight.”

He just lectured me about settling down, having kids, doing what’s expected, and yet he plans to go out for a drink with the guys on Christmas Eve? Make it make sense. I may be too passive in almost every respect, but when it comes to the little girl waiting for me upstairs, I’m surprisingly assertive. “I promised Josie a story. We can go after that.”

With that, I suck in a breath and shuffle inside.