BONUS SCENE

PRESLEY

A giggle sounds behind me, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing myself. I look down at my four-year-old daughter, Shan, and put a finger to my lips. “Do you want to see Daddy?” I whisper.

Shan claps a small hand over her mouth, and I swallow back a laugh at the gesture. She nods.

I widen my eyes. “Then we have to be very quiet so we don’t get caught.”

There’s a soft escape of laughter behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see Layla pressing her lips together. Of course, she doesn’t take this seriously. We all know Layla regularly flaunts rules to sneak into the hotels the night before games.

“Mom!” Eight-year-old Margot hisses at her.

Layla’s shoulders are shaking with laughter, and I’m holding onto my composure by a thin string. From my other side, I hear puffs of breath from held back laughter. When I glance over at Court Dash, she presses her two-year-old against her face to hide her laughter. I see now it would have been a good idea for me to bring six-month-old Thomas, but I left him at Mom’s, thinking we’d never be able to keep him quiet. Plus having Shan and my own two-year-old, Livvy, felt like a lot to sneak into the hotel.

Layla has all four of her children, and she’s five months pregnant, so I’m basically a slacker. Hurley’s fiancée, Keke, is even holding Livvy. She is Livvy’s best friend, according to my toddler daughter, and Livvy refuses to let anyone else near her if Keke is in the vicinity.

Layla’s five-year-old son slips back into the stairwell, where our rather large, and not particularly quiet, party is waiting. “All clear,” he says with so much seriousness, it set off Court’s giggles again. And Shan’s. I glance back at Margot, who’s holding her one-year-old sister, and she rolls her eyes.

We’re all amateurs.

Margot hikes Georgia up on her hip, and nods at her three-year-old brother, holding Layla’s hand. “Let’s go before Mom gives us all away.”

Layla, Court, Keke, and I share looks. “Mila and Landon are seriously missing out on sneaking in with us,” Court whispers.

“You have to admit, adding your aunt, plus Mila and Landon and their kids, and Eli’s parents might make us a little more obvious,” I point out.

“Breaking up into groups was for the best,” Keke agrees, but we’re all still fighting laughter as Layla and her kids slip out of the stairwell and head for the suite that Eli rented on this floor under a fake name. Hopefully the guys have all gotten out of their rooms to meet us there.

Court and her two kids go next, and then Keke and Livvy slip out. I share another grin with Shan before it’s our turn, and she tiptoes with me down the hallway to the suite. There’s probably little point in sneaking around now, given I can hear the laughter from inside the room. When I reach the door, I tap on it softly, and I’m immediately admitted by Margot. She beams at me.

Behind her is Brock, who grins as he sweeps Shan up into his arms. Livvy likely refused to leave Keke’s side, and when I glance at where Keke stands with Hurley, I see Livvy gripping one of her hands.

“Merry Christmas, Pres,” Brock says, scooping his other arm around my waist. He drops a quick kiss on my lips, one that I smile at. “I see your covert planning abilities are still top-notch.” He quirks a brow at me.

I push at his shoulder. “Not if you ask Margot.” She’s already wandered away from the door, since it looks like everyone is here now. “She was sure we were all getting caught from the moment we met in the stairwell.”

“Margot has taken the Christmas Eve sneaky party seriously from the time she was a toddler,” Brock says, slipping a hand into mine. Shan lays her head on her dad’s shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

“This is our last year,” I say, tilting my head at him. To be honest, there haven’t been that many, and not one has been this big. In the last seven years, the guys have only played on Christmas four times, and two of those have been on the road. Not everyone could make it those years. But still, it’s a silly tradition I’m not quite ready to leave behind. Even though I’m more than ready for Brock to retire. He’s almost thirty-six now. That’s old in football years, especially for a lineman. His body is getting beat up, and we both agree that we want him to walk away while we can still enjoy his retirement. I haven’t worked for the Rays since Shan was born, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know about the stress Brock’s body takes on every game.

“Maybe we’ll have to start holding sneaky Christmas Eve parties at our house.” He leans down to give me another kiss on the cheek.

“I like that idea.” I let my fingers graze his cheek before he straightens.

“Mila brought cookies!” Court says, and the mingling guests all shift toward the table in the kitchen of the suite that’s loaded with more than just cookies. I can smell hot chocolate too, and there are cakes and an assortment of her famous protein bites in various flavors for the guys, since they probably shouldn’t overdo it tonight.

We’re all sitting down around the mini tree that Court’s aunt brought with her, when there’s a knock on the door. Everyone freezes, and we all exchange looks. I can see Margot mentally making an inventory in her head of everyone here. We’re not missing anyone.

“I’ll get it,” Mila and Eli’s mom, Mrs. Dash, says. She passes one of her grandbabies over to Court’s aunt and pushes up off the couch.

The room is hushed, except for Margot whispering to Layla with wide eyes. I swallow back more giggles, puffs of laughter escape anyway, and I look to see Brock grinning at me.

“Yes?” Mrs. Dash says with fake innocence when she cracks the door open. “How can I help you?”

“Do your son and his friends really think I don’t know they do this every time we have a Christmas Day game?” a voice says.

Coach Barrin. The guys all look at each other and then laughter envelops the room. Mrs. Dash opens the door wider with a sheepish smile, and Coach Barrin steps inside. He’s shaking his head and laughing with them.

The guys call various versions of “Come on in” and “Join us,” waving their hands at him, none of them feeling bad about their actions. I sneak a peek at Margot, and she watches Coach Barrin with wide eyes, but Layla leans over and whispers reassurances in her ear that has Margot relaxing.

He stops at the arm of the couch Brock and I are sitting on, with Shan in Brock’s lap. “I figured since this was Hunter’s last one, I should stop by.” He reaches over and puts a hand on Brock’s shoulder, and emotion wells in my throat. Not the first time this season, and probably not the last. “We’ve been glad to have you,” he says, his voice lower. “And it’s been my pleasure to coach you.” The guys all murmur agreement, and Lincoln steps over from where he was standing behind the couch Layla’s sitting on, to clap Brock on his other shoulder.

“Thanks. One of the best Christmas gifts I’ve ever gotten was being let go by the Devils and coming to the Rays.” He nods at his teammates, and I can’t hold back emotion anymore. Tears slip into my eyes that I quickly wipe away. Brock coming to LA is what brought him to me too. I agree that a moment that looked bleak for him turned out to be the best thing in both our lives.

Coach Barrin hands Brock a small, wrapped gift, and nods at him to open it. Inside is a picture of the offense from the year the Rays picked Brock up.

“Thanks,” Brock says. He stands, shifting Shan around to one side and holding her on his hip and then giving Coach Barrin a side hug. “It’s been my honor to be here.”

“Merry Christmas, Brock,” Coach Barrin says, thumping him on the back. “And to the rest of you. At least try to keep it down so I can pretend I don’t know.” He turns to where Eli and Court sit on another couch. “And Eli? No one is fooled by a room rented for a reunion of The Former Best Friends Club.”

Everyone groans, then laughs. Hurley slaps a hand against his face. “That’s it, bro. You’re not in charge of the room next time.”

Eli holds up a hand. “What?”

Coach Barrin waves to everyone and takes a plate of cookies from Mila on the way out.

And then we start opening the pajamas we all brought. The guys high five each other when they see that for the fifth time, we’ve bought them matching flannel pants and t-shirts. This year’s is a picture of Brock made to look like Santa with a white beard and a Santa hat, an homage to the ugly Christmas sweater I wore back when he came to hang out at my house at Thanksgiving right before leaving the Devils for the Rays. They use the rooms and bathrooms in the suite to go change, and we take a dozen pictures of them before the kids call attention back to them.

The sneaky Christmas Eve party is both irresponsible and responsible at the same time. The guys do have a game tomorrow, and even if it’s the Devils (kind of poetic), they still have to take it seriously.

As we’re all “sneaking” out, I can’t help hovering back with Brock a moment. Keke and Hurley took Livvy and Shan down to the car. Livvy was already fast asleep on Keke’s shoulder.

I snake my arms around his neck. “It’s been a good ride, Hunter.”

He pulls me up into him, showing off the muscles he’s still got, and since we’re almost alone (Mila is gathering up the last of the food we didn’t eat and wasn’t split up between us) I wrap my legs around his waist. He kisses me and then presses his forehead against mine.

“It’s far from over,” he says, and I kiss him again.

He’s right. Next up, our sequel.