A Pucking Wrong Christmas: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series)

I climbed onto the private plane, a huge smile on my face as I stepped inside “Grandma Airways” as Ari had dubbed my over the top traveling accommodations that my insanely possessive and jealous husband had set up for me.

Edna was waiting for me at the top of the steps, a warm smile on her cute, weathered face.

“Welcome aboard, darlin’,” she said as she handed me a mug of hot cocoa.

Just one of the perks of traveling with the over sixty-five crowd.

I turned the corner that led to the seats, and my jaw dropped when I saw Blake, Ari’s gorgeous model girlfriend, sitting in one of the leather seats, munching on a cookie as she glanced around the plane, amused. Our eyes met, and her eyebrows rose in surprise.

‘Monroe?’ Blake said, her voice filled with astonishment. ‘What are you doing here?’

I stammered. ‘I…I’m going to Lincoln’s game in New York. What⁠—’

Before we could question each other any more, our phones chimed. Almost simultaneously. We both pulled them out.

Lincoln: Is Ari with you?

Me: No…but Blake is. What’s going on?

“Fuck, I love him,” Blake murmured, reading the text on her phone, a faint flush to her cheeks from whatever Ari had sent her. She glanced at me. “I guess I’m going to New York this weekend with you instead of the photoshoot I thought I had scheduled.” Blake’s face was bemused…and a little anxious as she stared down at her phone. “Apparently, Ari has an in with my agent. I’ll have to watch the two of them.” She shook her head, biting down on her lip in deep thought.

I wasn’t surprised. Knowing Lincoln and his…tactics…it would be hard to believe that Ari would be that different.

Although Ari didn’t seem quite as crazy as Lincoln. Maybe I’d get the nerve to ask her about it one day. Not sure I’d ever share the whole “handcuff” incident though. I wasn’t sure anyone but me and him would ever understand what had taken place then.

“Seatbelts, dearies,” Edna said as she came up the row and filled my hot cocoa up to the brim even though I’d only taken a few sips.

Blake giggled again and Edna winked at her before walking up to the front to take her seat.

“You know I thought Lincoln had some kind of ‘grandma fetish’ when I first flew on this,” Blake mentioned as she clicked on her seatbelt.

I snorted, my whole body shaking. “You did?”

She gestured around us as the plane’s engines roared to life, and we started to move. “Ari didn’t warn me about any of this, he just set me up for the flight and suddenly I was walking into cookies and gray hair and grandmas.”

I was laughing so hard, my eyes were watering.

My phone buzzed and I glanced down.

Lincoln: What are you laughing so hard about?

That only made me laugh harder, an edge of insanity in my voice because of course he had his app engaged so he could watch me through my phone. The sound must not be working though, and I’m sure that was driving him insane.

Insaner than he already was.

I’d never known that I was crazy, not until I discovered the other half of my soul and realized it.

Me: Blake thought you had a grandma fetish.

Lincoln: Fucking Ari. I told him to warn her!

I snorted again.

Me: How exactly does Ari warn his girl that you’re kind of crazy?

Me: Correction. Take out the “kind of”, and leave just “crazy.”

Lincoln: You’re just asking me to spank you, aren’t you?

Me: Yes, Daddy.

Lincoln:…

Me: 😉

Lincoln: Thanks for making me hard. On the plane. With my teammates.

Me: Glad to be of service.

Lincoln: Just get your pretty ass to NYC.

Me: Say please.

Lincoln: Grrrr.

Lincoln: Love you, dream girl.

I glanced up, relieved to see that Blake wasn’t staring at me like I was crazy or rude because I’d drifted off into Lincoln land—somewhere I found myself most of the time.

She was staring at her own phone, probably texting Ari by the soft smile on her face.

I had slowly been getting to know Blake in the times Lincoln and Ari could steal away from their teams. She was gorgeous. One of the prettiest girls I’d ever seen in my life, in fact. And I would have loved her just for the fact that Ari loved her. In the last few months though, I’d found her to be one of the sweetest, most caring women I’d ever met. She also had a charming sense of humor that somehow went perfectly with Ari’s goofiness.

I didn’t have a lot of friends. And I didn’t really have time for them, since Lincoln and I basically existed in our own little world. But we did have our little crew that was like family to us. And Blake had now joined Ari in that crew.

Blake and I chatted about my classes and some campaigns she’d done, along with how the guys’ season was going.

It had been really hard for Lincoln not having Ari on the team. But he seemed really confident that Ari was going to “lock it up” and be back in Dallas with Blake next season.

And yes, I had asked what “lock it up” meant in that context…since you could never be sure with Lincoln.

His answer had been vague.

Staring at Blake though, whatever Ari was doing, he was doing it well. She’d had a haunted look in her eyes when I’d met her that first night in the bar. And now, just a few months later, that look was almost gone.

It was another reason that I felt so bonded to her…I’d had that haunted look in my eyes before Lincoln as well.

My phone buzzed.

Lincoln: I fucking miss you.

Me: Me too.

It was a crazy thing that you could miss someone like this. Lincoln and I didn’t get tired of each other. Sometimes I thought maybe we should take a minute away from each other…that it would be healthy.

But Lincoln always quickly convinced me why that wasn’t a good idea.

Mabel came then with the tea service. I was pretty sure that most flights—even private—did not come with tea service. But Mabel and Edna were very insistent on it every flight.

“It was good for the soul,” or something like that.

Instead of her usual sweater and skirt uniform, Mabel was wearing a Christmas cat sweater today that said “Meowy Christmas – I’m Feline Festive.” A quick glance at Blake and she was just as amused as I was judging by the wide grin on her face as she stared at Mabel.

“We’ve whipped up some sugar cookies to go with this apple cinnamon tea, darlins’,” she told us as she poured the steaming tea into Christmas themed china she’d pulled off a tea cart.

Edna slipped past Mabel to hand us a tray of decorated Christmas cookies. The cookies themselves were an assortment of shapes, meticulously frosted with vibrant red and green icing, forming intricate designs of snowflakes, candy canes, and jolly Santas. The sugary coating glistened on top.

And my mouth was already watering.

For a second a memory filtered in.

I was seven years old, and it was Christmas time at my elementary school. Mrs. Rawlings had handed out these wonderful sugar cookies, each one shaped like a beautiful Christmas tree with red and green frosting. It felt like a little piece of holiday magic in my hand.

As the other kids excitedly nibbled on their cookies, I decided to save mine. It was going to be a special treat for my mom when I got home. I gently wrapped the cookie in a napkin and tucked it into my tiny backpack, careful not to let it break.

When I finally walked through the door of our small, sad apartment, I was bursting with anticipation. My mom was there, but she was in a state I had seen all too often, lost in her own world with the smell of alcohol heavy in the air.

‘Mom,’ I had whispered, tiptoeing closer, my heart pounding with excitement, ‘I brought you a Christmas cookie.’

She turned to me, her eyes unfocused and bleary, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if she even knew I was there. But then, with a sudden, reckless gesture, she snatched the cookie from my hand, her laugh more like a cruel, mocking cackle.

With a swift, heart-wrenching motion, she threw the beautiful cookie to the ground. It shattered into a million crumbs, its festive shape obliterated, and my heart shattered with it.

My hand moved away from the tray, my appetite suddenly gone.

“You know, I made this one especially for you, sweetheart,” Mabel said sweetly, reaching over and grabbing a Christmas tree of all things from the tray Edna was holding. She placed it in my hand and I stared at the red and green icing on top for a few seconds before lifting it up to my mouth.

Everything else Lincoln had me do this Christmas had worked like magic to erase the darkness of my past.

Maybe this would too.

I took a bite of the cookie. The sweet, buttery flavor filled my mouth, and it was like a little piece of heaven. Mabel was chattering away about how it was an old family recipe that she had decided to share with Edna.

Edna, never one to miss an opportunity to snark, couldn’t resist. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said with a sly grin, ‘But I’ve made a few improvements to the recipe. That’s why it’s so much better now.’

Blake couldn’t help but burst into laughter as the women started arguing over the cookie recipe.

I couldn’t help but smile too, munching away at the cookie. It was delicious, and the love and laughter in the cabin was contagious. In that moment, surrounded by these women…I suddenly felt a whole lot better.

Maybe sugar cookies didn’t have to be ruined either.