Trick Shot: A Spicy Christmas Novella (Brother Puckers Book 1)
Trick Shot: Chapter 1

“Lucas isn’t going to take that deal. He won’t do anything less than two million.”

“We can do as high as one-point-five.”

“Two million.”

“Come on, Leo. This is a great deal for an NHL player. Tell your brother—”

“Don’t pull that on me, Marcus. I’m his agent, and Lucas McKnight isn’t just an NHL player—he just got nominated for an Emmy, for God’s sake. He’ll take two million, or we’ll walk.”

Marcus sighs loudly on the other end of the line. Not very fucking professional, if you ask me. He’s trying to pull his friend card, and it’s not going to fucking work.

“The brand doesn’t want to spend this much at Christmas time.”

“Then this conversation is over. Go get a player that’s looking for a bone. Have a great holiday, Marcus.” I pretend to hang up, but I know he’s not going to say no.

“Wait!”

I smile to myself. “Yes?”

“We’ll do two million.”

“Great, send over the paperwork to my office, and I’ll have him sign. Merry Christmas, Marcus.”

After he hangs up without another word, I mentally pat myself on the back. That was too easy. But my brother will be happy, and I’ll take that ten percent cut any day of the week. I’ll call it a Christmas bonus. Not that Lucas hasn’t given me a hefty one already, but now I can try to relax a bit before things pick up again in the New Year.

I write a text to my identical twin, letting him know it’s done. He sends back a stupid confetti GIF as I order a whiskey from the airport bartender. I’m on my way home from New York to Seattle, so I’ll be seeing him soon—no need to call, or he’ll talk my ear off for an hour. He may be one of the biggest hockey players in the world, and now a TV star, but he’s still a loveable idiot who doesn’t know when to stop talking. Our mom jokes it’s because he came out of the womb after me and thus got the annoying younger sibling gene. I, on the other hand, came out as an “old soul.” She used to dress me in little suits and say I’d be a lawyer someday. I may not be a lawyer, but I am one of the best sports agents in the business that can negotiate multi-million dollar deals in their sleep.

My phone buzzes, and I look down at the airline notification on my screen. My flight’s been delayed due to the weather once already, and now it’s happened again. Great. I’ve never been one for holiday celebrations; there’s too much noise and mindless chatter with relatives you only see once a year who just want to talk hockey and ask what celebrities you’ve met. But Mom wants the whole family home for Christmas dinner tomorrow, as she does every year. So I’ll go and put on my best smile for her.

I stop the bartender. “Can you change one of these TVs to the Weather Channel?”

“Sure thing. Though you may find it depressing.”

I snicker and take a drink of the top shelf whiskey. Well, as top shelf as this bar in LaGuardia Airport can provide on Christmas Eve.

“Oh god, I hope it doesn’t tell me what I think I already know.”

My skin prickles pleasantly at the musical sound of the woman’s voice. I drag my gaze from the TV toward the source. She’s plump, her cheeks red as if she’s run the entire length of the airport, and her mid-length strawberry-blonde hair is frizzy around her round face. She also looks like she’s about to cry. Or scream. Or both.

I take a sip of my drink, glad that I’m more Scrooge than Santa during this time of year. Mom will be sad if I don’t make it home tonight, but she’ll survive. I’ll be happy to go home, where my best friend Jace is staying while I’m gone. We’ll probably drink too much, fuck each other stupid, then end up in a pile by the fireplace under one of the Christmas trees he forced me to get. All of that sounds significantly better than being on a long flight after waiting in this damn airport for hours. I’m in the mood to celebrate. And kinky sex with Jace is always a good time.

This woman, on the other hand, judging by the tight green pants and red sweatshirt she’s wearing, will be devastated not to get where she’s going. She watches the weather report with rapt attention, a drip of sweat sliding from her temple as her face contorts in despair.

“I knew I should have left yesterday.” She groans. “Stupid Chad!”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Chads are usually stupid.”

The woman turns at my comment, her green eyes widening when she sees me. I know that look. It’s the one I get multiple times a day. The one the bartender gave me when I first sat down. The downside of having a twin brother who’s famous as fuck is that people always think I’m him. It’s not their fault, either. If you don’t personally know me and Lucas, it’s hard to tell us apart. I even walked a red carpet last year for him when he’d partied a little too hard the night before. We’ve been impersonating each other since we knew we could get away with it. The only people it doesn’t work on are our mom and Jace. Even our dad can be fooled.

“Um, you’re—you’re, um,” she fumbles.

I raise my hands up, not letting her finish the sentence. “Guilty as charged.”

Her mouth drops open. I can tell by the glint in her eye she’s a fan—maybe even one of the obsessive ones. I don’t have the heart to tell her I’m not him. Especially considering she’s most likely going to be stuck in this airport or on her way back to where she came from shortly.

“Wow. That’s, uh. Wow,” she says.

Then she surprises me. She turns and flags the bartender down, ordering a dry martini with an extra olive. Her neck flushes and she mutters something about just her luck wearing a stupid outfit today. I think I hear “the hottest man alive” at some point, which makes me smile. She’s cute, and I like the way her skin is starting to match the color of her hair. When she gets her drink, she downs it, then orders another one, muttering about Chad again.

“What did Chad do to you, Shortcake?”

Her skin stains impossibly red as her eyes lock with mine. They’re pretty, like the color of pine trees against white snow.

“Shortcake?” she huffs. “I’m tall.”

She’s right; she is tall, by the looks of her long, shapely legs. However, I’m 6’2”. But that’s not why I called her ‘shortcake.’ “Your skin,” I grin, “reminds me of my favorite dessert. Strawberry Shortcake.”

Her mouth drops open, shocked at my bold flirting. I go to backtrack, to say sorry for being so forward, but then she stops me with that musical voice of hers.

“Do I get to call you a nickname, then?”

I raise an eyebrow at her. Oh, so she likes to play, too. “If you’d like.”

She grabs the new martini and takes the olive from the glass. She closes her pouty lips around it and sucks it into her mouth before chewing slowly. Suddenly, my Armani pants are tight, and I find myself shifting on the barstool.

“How about,” she hums around the next olive, “Beefcake?”

I let out a bark of laughter. “That’s original.”

The flush that was starting to leave her skin comes back in full force. “I never said I was good at giving nicknames.”

“So what are you good at?” I ask.

She taps her white painted nails on the bar countertop. “Nothing, if you ask Chad.”

“You’re right. Chad is stupid.”

A smile curls at her glossy lips before she holds out her hand. “I’m Riley.”

I put my drink down and engulf her hand with mine. Her touch is clammy, but I like the feeling of her cool rings against my palm.

“Nice to meet you, Riley.” I don’t bother saying my name. We’ve already established that she thinks I’m Lucas.

Her smile turns shy as she pulls her hand back. “I’m sorry for my reaction earlier. It’s not every day you see one of America’s hottest bachelors at an airport bar on Christmas Eve. I’d think, if anything, you’d have a private jet or be on a tropical island somewhere, avoiding snow! I mean, I guess you’re a hockey player so you probably like snow. But again, maybe you need a break. I know I’d probably need a break from the schedule you have, and a beach sounds lovely this time of year.”

My gaze tracks to her lips as she rambles. They’re plush yet delicate-looking, just like the rest of her body. It’s then I notice the sweater has a deep V-neck, and there’s a snowflake pendant resting between the voluptuous valley of her tits. Shit, maybe I should just call it a night and head back to my place. Now I’m horny as hell, and while Jace may not have breasts, he’s soft in all the places I like. For a split second, I think of this beautiful woman sandwiched between me and my best friend—and now my cock is definitely hard.

“Oh my god, I’m rambling and embarrassing you. My sister Stevie makes fun of me for going on tangents when I get nervous. And well, you’re you, and I’m…well, me!”

I flick my ice-blue eyes to hers and will myself to remain calm. At least she’s mistaken the color in my cheeks from embarrassment, instead of me staring at her boobs.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Shortcake. I’m just a guy.”

That makes her bark out a laugh. “You’re anything but that.”

“So people think.” I shrug. “Though behind everything, I’m just that. A man.”

She hums. “I suppose that’s true. So tell me, what are you doing here on Christmas Eve, Just a Guy?”

I glance at my phone and see there’s no updates on my flight yet. “Same as you, I suppose. Though I can’t blame Chad for any of this.”

She downs the rest of her martini and huffs. “You should. Chad ruins everything.”

I flag the bartender and tell him to get us both another round. She smiles gratefully and tries to relax on the stool, but they don’t have much surface area. These things were not created for comfort. I notice a pair of chairs in the corner just vacated, and I find myself standing.

“Care to join me?”

Riley looks to the corner, her face that of disbelief. “Me?”

“Yeah, Shortcake. You.” To be honest, I don’t know why I asked, either. But she’s sexy and sweet. And I do need to wait until my flight is actually canceled before I leave the airport, or my mom and Lucas will know I bailed.

She takes the fresh martini and grabs the handle of her carry-on, moving to the corner in almost a state of shock. I quietly tell the bartender to put her drinks on my tab, then follow her. There are some Christmas lights and holly above the chairs. The multi-colored lights cast a festive glow on her fair skin and strawberry hair. She almost looks like she was pulled from a snow globe.

She sits and settles in, sighing as she takes another sip of the drink. Once I’ve done the same, she stares at me.

“Sorry again for my rambling,” she says. “I thought it would’ve scared you off.”

“Takes a lot more than that to scare me.”

“Oh god, I hope you don’t think I’m one of your stalkers, or something.”

“Are you?”

She huffs a small laugh. “No, no. My sister is a huge fan of yours. She’ll hate me forever when I tell her I met the star Forward of the Seattle Stormbreakers.”

“You’re saying you’re not a fan of me, then? Or you’re just not a stalker.”

That pretty flush returns. “Of course I’m a fan. Who isn’t?”

“Lots of people. Especially Canadians.”

She snorts. “I’m not going to lie, I don’t really know much about hockey. I watched you on that Netflix show. It was good.”

I nod, feeling slightly uncomfortable she’s giving Lucas compliments and not me. But it’s also nice to not be ‘Lucas McKnight’s brother’ for a moment. If I tell her the truth, she’ll probably give me ‘the Look.’ The one that says, “Oh! You’re the brother that ‘could have been’ one of the great Hockey players if you didn’t have a career ending injury, and now you’re just his agent.’ Jace will call me an idiot when I tell him about all this, but I think he also understands why I don’t correct people. It’s just easier to go with it.

I can’t stop the small smile that tugs at my lips when thinking of Jace. He’s a godsend, and always has been. I met him in college thirteen years ago in a dive bar right after I was told I’d never be able to play hockey at a professional level because of a knee injury I sustained during a fucking scrimmage gone wrong. And while our relationship didn’t cross over from friends to friends with benefits until a few years ago, things have always been easy with him. He’s never expected anything outside of what I can offer. He understands that while I’m out as pansexual, with the industry we work in and who I’m related to, it’s hard to have relationships—especially unique ones.

That’s also just part of it. On top of loving whoever the fuck I want to, I’ve never been one for the traditional when it comes to relationships and sex. Monogamy just never sounded appealing. Thankfully, Jace feels the same. Though recently we’ve both been so busy with our clients that we’ve been fucking each other more often. Just last night, he joked how I need to meet more people, or his dick is going to fall off from my sexual appetite. So, as I look at Riley’s soft body and perfect tits, my dick recalls the way she flirted with that olive. This could be an opportunity to taste a different flavor for tonight. Maybe she’d be open to Jace and me, together.

I can see it now: Those pretty red lips of hers around my cock while Jace rails her from behind.

Blood rushes back to my crotch, and I shift in my chair. I don’t know what it is about this woman that has me so tightly wound. We just met, and while I know she’s Lucas’s fan, I don’t know if she’s the one-night stand type of woman. Or what type of woman she is, at all. Just because she’s flirting doesn’t mean she’d be open to a three-way on Christmas Eve. For now, I decide to get to know this alluring stranger better while I can.

“Tell me about Chad,” I say. Immediately, her demeanor changes. Her shoulders tense and her forehead creases.

“I don’t want to ruin your Christmas.”

My hand seems to move on its own as I place it on her shoulder and squeeze. Her doe eyes look into mine, which doesn’t help my previous thoughts.

“I’m in the airport on Christmas Eve getting tipsy on subpar whiskey. You’re not ruining my Christmas,” I assure her. I remove my hand from her shoulder and immediately miss the warm feel of her soft sweater beneath my palm.

She sighs. “He’s my ex. My ex that I work with. We broke up over a year ago, but he loves to find ways to screw with my life. Even though he’s the one who cheated on me.”

My jaw clenches, feeling bad for this person I hardly know. “How so?”

She motions to her outfit. “He made me wear this for a last-minute pitch, which went way over because he would not stop talking out of his own ass. That’s why I was late getting to the airport and I wasn’t able to change. I thought I was going to miss my flight until they delayed it again.”

“Something tells me that’s not why you’re upset at him.”

She takes another drink. “You’re observant.”

“Helps with my job.” She doesn’t know I’m not referring to hockey, but it works all the same.

“I suppose that’s true.” She plays with one of the sparkly rings around her finger. “He insisted on driving me to the airport. Anyway, let’s just say that he’s an asshole, and I should’ve taken a cab.”

I study her as she shifts the ring she’s been twisting into its original position and takes a deep breath. I shouldn’t have asked about Chad. I have no business involving myself in her life. But right now, that’s all I care about. I want to know everything about this asshole so I can go pummel his face in.

“What do you do that had you doing a presentation on Christmas Eve?” I ask, wanting to know more.

She throws up her hands. “That’s the thing. This meeting could have waited until the New Year. I work at a digital ad agency, and one of our clients is a friend of Chad’s. For some reason, this meeting had to happen this afternoon. And I had to be festive! Chad told me he was doing the same, but of course, he looked like he was ready to go to a five-star dinner on the Upper East Side while I look like a Christmas card. He did it on purpose. He likes to demean me as punishment for breaking up with him.”

I clench my fist around my glass. “There aren’t any other agencies you could work at in the city?” I start to think of friends I know in the industry, ones who could possibly help her out.

“I refuse to quit because a man is having a temper tantrum over something he caused.” She makes a fair point there. “And this agency was a dream of mine to work at since I was in college. It’s the sole reason I moved from Seattle to New York.”

Now her sister’s obsession with Lucas makes even more sense. Everyone in Seattle knows who my brother is.

I nod. “Well, if you ever decide you want a change, I know a lot of people who work in your field. If you need a referral, I’d be more than willing.”

Surprise colors her features. “You don’t even know me. Maybe I am a stalker.”

I chuckle. “I’ll admit, I thought you could be at first, with the rambling and how you reacted when you saw me. But now, I think I like you, Riley. I’m good at reading people. Plus, you’re a follow Seattleite, so I have to like you.” I wink at the last part.

She blushes. “Are you sure you’re a hockey player?”

My heart stops for a second. “Why?”

“I grew up around a lot of them. You’re…different.”

“You mean I have all my teeth.”

She laughs, a small snort escaping. “Exactly.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment, then.” My phone pings, and I see it’s from Jace. He’s asking if my flight is canceled. They’re talking about shutting down the subways, which means it must be getting rough out there. Just as I’m about to tell him it’s still delayed, I get a message from the airline saying my flight is canceled. By the sound that comes out of Riley, we must be on the same plane.

“Damn it. Stevie is going to be so disappointed,” she says, her voice tight with emotion and eyes a bit glassy.

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “Nothing for you to be sorry about. You didn’t cancel the flight.” A few more choice words about Chad leave her mouth before she stands. “I better get to the train before the whole airport gets there. It was nice meeting you.”

The idea of her leaving has my stomach flipping over and me standing up with her. It stuns me briefly, because I’m usually not this way with a person I just met. When my phone pings again, I force the feeling away and see Jace’s message that he’s already halfway to the airport. He assumed this was going to happen, and started the trek before the roads got worse. I feel a surge of gratitude at his ability to plan ahead.

“Where’s your place?” I ask Riley.

Her watery eyes are now replaced with that flirty glint from earlier. The one she had while sucking on that olive.

“You want to come home with me, Beefcake?” she asks.

My cock stirs again, and I smirk just enough so she can see the lone dimple on my right cheek. “I won’t say no, but I was going to offer you a ride home.”

Her skin goes pink as she wrings her hands together. “Oh…No, no. That’s okay, I can make it home.”

Excitement sparks in my veins at the disappointment in her tone. She’s embarrassed because she thinks I wasn’t thinking about fucking her. Which means that she was thinking about fucking me. This woman is a surprise. An unexpected gift in an overcrowded airport, and I want to unwrap her—in more ways than one.

Without another word, she makes her way to the bar and I quickly follow.

“I took care of it,” I tell her. When the bartender hands me my card, I sign the slip of paper, adding a generous tip.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

When our eyes connect, the busy airport fades into the background, a spark of energy passing between us. The same one I felt when I first heard her musical voice. At the time, I didn’t think much of it—now I want to revel in it.

She takes her lower lip between her teeth and gently bites down. When her eyes drop to my mouth, I can’t help but reach out and pull her lip from its grasp. I rub my thumb over the indented skin and feel her short breaths heat my hand. When I move my finger down the curve of her rounded jaw, she shivers, and the image in my mind becomes clearer.

If Riley comes home with me tonight, Jace and I will treat her like a queen. We’ll feed her a delicious meal before stripping her bare and eating her out like a five-star dessert. Maybe she’ll even let Jace tie her up in his favorite red rope. Goddamn, she’ll make a beautiful sight under our tree, decorated in ornaments of all kinds.

But even more than that, there’s something about Riley that makes me want to know her more than just biblically. I want to hear what Chad said to her on the way to the airport. I want to know what she likes to eat, and I want to hear her laugh at one of Jace’s stupid dad jokes. It sounds dumb, considering we met thirty minutes ago, but there’s a nagging feeling in my gut that’s telling me I can’t let Riley walk away.

“Riley—”

“Lucas—”

We speak at the same time and both laugh from it. I lower my hand to take hers, ignoring the pesky fact that she still thinks I’m Lucas.

“You go first,” she urges me.

“I asked where you lived, but what I really should have asked is: Would you like to spend Christmas Eve with me?”

Her face lights up, but I notice the trepidation mixed in as well.

I squeeze her hand. “There aren’t any expectations, of course. I have a spare room, and my penthouse is decorated to the nines. It won’t make up for missing Christmas morning with your family, but my friend Jace can make us this great dish local to Hawaii called Loco moco when we wake up. I promise, he’s a good guy. Though he does like to bite.” I wink.

She chuckles, probably trying to determine if my words are true. Or because the food dish I mentioned translates to crazy boogers. I’m choosing the former.

“I have to admit,” she says, “this is not how I expected tonight to go.”

I brush my thumb over her knuckle. “That a good or a bad thing?”

Her gaze locks with mine, eyes sparkling. “I think it’s a good thing.”

“So you’ll come home with me?”

She grins cheekily. “Do you bite?”

I lean forward and put my lips to her ear. “Only if you ask me to, Shortcake.”

Her breath hitches, and I notice the way her thighs squeeze together. She’s turned on, and nothing’s even happened yet. Oh yeah, this woman was sent to me by fate—or maybe by Santa.

My phone pings, and I tug on her hand. “Come on. That’s probably Jace.”