Page 26 of Miami Ice (Miami Sports #2)

We’ve made it.

I feel relief sweep through me as Beckham leads me up the sidewalk to the home he’s rented for Sofia and Aaron. We’re in Miami Beach, at our last official function of Thanksgiving.

Dessert with his family.

I have Winston on his leash, and he follows Beckham up the sidewalk. I hold the Mason jar filled with flowers in my other arm and think about how this dinner is going to be so different. No drunk people sleeping on the floor. No sibling fights. No confrontations with a parent.

No turkey with boobs served with a side of trash-can gravy, either.

Just dessert. With normal people.

And I cannot wait.

Beckham knocks on the door, and soon I hear the sounds of the twins on the other side.

“It’s Uncle Beckham!” one of them cries cheerfully.

I smile at him. “You’re so loved by those girls.”

He almost appears sheepish about the compliment. “They’re too young to know better.”

“No. They are smart enough to know exactly who is worthy of their love,” I say softly.

Beckham looks as if he’s about to say something, but another little voice on the other side of the door breaks through the silence. “I want Elsa hair!”

“No, girls, do not ask Georgie to do your hair,” Aaron warns. “She is a guest and here to eat dessert with us. Not to do your hair.”

“She can do it after she has a cookie,” one of the twins suggests helpfully.

Beckham grins at me. “I underestimated the power of the braid.”

Before I can answer, Aaron opens the door. Stella and Lucy fly forward, both of them attaching themselves to Beckham’s legs. “Happy Thanksgiving,” Aaron says, smiling warmly at us.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Beckham says as he scoops one of the twins up in his arms. “Did you eat lots of turkey, Stella?”

“Yes! And mashed potatoes!” she adds happily.

“Mashed potatoes are the best,” Beckham declares.

“Look at the doggie!” Lucy declares excitedly at the sight of Winston. “He’s so cute!”

“Don’t touch the dog yet, Lucy,” Aaron quickly instructs. “Georgie has to say it’s okay first. We always ask first if we can pet a dog.”

“He’s very gentle and friendly,” I say. I kneel down and unclip his leash, and Beckham puts Stella down and kneels down next to her and Lucy. “You can pet him like this,” I say, showing Lucy and Stella how Winston likes to be petted. I demonstrate lightly petting his back and they eagerly follow suit, squealing in delight as Winston’s tail swishes happily from all the attention.

Once they’ve petted Winston, their attention goes straight back to Beckham.

“Pick me up! Me!” Lucy demands, putting her hands on his leg.

“Georgie, pick me up!” Stella chimes in, thrusting her hands up in the air for me so I can grab her.

“Girls, girls, settle down,” Sofia says, smiling as she walks up.

“I’ll pick you up in just a moment, Stella,” I promise. I turn to Sofia. “These are for you.” I give her the Mason jar filled with flowers.

“Oh, I love it,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “Please, come inside. I have a coffee bar set up and several desserts for you to choose from.”

I smile. I bet none of the desserts have been concocted from something that fell into a trash can.

I bend down and pick Stella up, settling her on my hip. She pats my hair. “Pretty.”

“Stella, remember what I said,” Aaron warns.

She sticks her lower lip out, and I can’t resist it. “Aaron, if the girls want Elsa hair, I’ll happily do that for them.”

Beckham scoops up Lucy and tosses her in the air, sending her shrieking. We follow Aaron past the beautiful floating staircase that leads up to the second floor and head to the den, where some kind of cartoon is blaring on the large-screen TV.

I’m introduced to Aaron’s parents, Mike and Vanessa, who greet me warmly. Winston makes a beeline for Mike, and Mike begins petting him.

“That’s Winston,” I say.

“Well, aren’t you a good boy?” Mike says cheerfully. He looks up at me. “I love dogs. We have two back home.”

“Winston always knows his dog people,” I say.

Mike sits down on the sofa, and Winston jumps up beside him, dropping his head in his lap.

“It looks like Mike has a new best friend,” Vanessa teases.

We set the girls down, and Stella wanders over to her mom. “Hairbrush?”

“Why do you need a hairbrush?” Sofia asks, her dark brows drawing together in a V.

“Georgie is going to give us Elsa hair,” Stella reports.

Sofia looks over at me, and I nod. “I’d be delighted to do it.”

“I’ll get the hairbrush in a bit. We’re going to have dessert first. Then Georgie can do hair.”

“Okay,” Lucy says, picking up a teddy bear.

Stella’s tiny lips twist in thought. “That might be a long time.”

“No, it won’t be, I promise,” I say.

“First, we need to take care of business,” Sofia says, quickly shifting gears. “I have an autumn wreath hanging on the back of the front door; it will be a perfect place for your launch picture. We can also get some of you at the table eating pie, that’s about as freaking wholesome as it gets. Now, I know it’s weird, but Beckham, if you could put your arms around Georgie’s waist, and Georgie, if you could lock your hands around the back of his neck, that would be a complete money shot for socials.”

I glance at Beckham, who told me he was going to surprise Sofia with a completely different kind of hard launch tonight.

“What if we do this?” he asks. Then he slides one hand to the back of my head, cradling it, and lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me.

“Kissing!” one of the twins shrieks. “Mommy! Kissing!”

I begin to laugh, and Beckham does, too. He lifts his head, but then slides his arm around me and draws me into his chest. I put my hand over his heart, and he drops a kiss onto the top of my head.

Sofia is staring at us, her mouth hanging open. Aaron’s eyebrows have shot up in shock. His parents look baffled.

“We’ve already launched,” Beckham says.

Sofia takes a moment to digest this information. Then her whole face lights up in complete happiness. “I KNEW IT!” she cries gleefully. “I knew you liked Georgie! Oh, this is the best news ever!”

“Wait, how did you know?” Beckham asks.

“You were far too agreeable to this whole situation, for starters.”

I chuckle at that.

“Then you started talking about her. That’s when I knew something was going on with you. Because you never talked about any girl before.”

Why does this revelation make me feel giddy inside?

Like a sickening sweet kind of giddy that I wouldn’t even confess to Ella.

Beckham snorts. “Go on, take your victory lap. You were right. Luckily for me, Georgie liked me back.”

“You sound like you’re in high school,” Sofia gloats. “ Liked you back . That’s hilarious.”

“So High School” suddenly starts looping in my head.

Yes. It is.

And it’s perfect.

“Let me take some pictures for you two to have. I still expect you to post them, you know,” Sofia says. Then she laughs. “We didn’t even get to the fake dating. This is hilarious.”

“We had negotiations in fake dating,” I supply helpfully.

Beckham snorts. “BookTok would be so disappointed with the ratio of fake dating in our story.”

I can’t help it. I laugh, and he does, too, as he envelopes me in his arms. One of his hands slides to the back of my head, cradling it to him, and the gesture completely melts me inside.

I love this space I find myself in at the moment. I love the way he’s holding me so protectively. I love that I can feel the heat from his body and smell the cologne that lingers on his skin. And when I feel his lips sweetly brush the top of my head?

Bliss.

“If you can tear yourself away from each other, I’d like a traditional pose of you two in front of my decorative wreath. Which you will need to dispose of after we leave for Atlanta tomorrow.”

“No. I expect this house to be move-in ready tomorrow,” Beckham says, flashing his sister a teasing smile as we move in front of a large autumnal wreath hung on the door. “That means this home should be rid of all your Thanksgiving crap.”

“It will be clean. You’ll just need to dump the wreath,” she says. “Then Georgie will have a clean slate so she can spruce up this place for Christmas.”

“Oh! Yes!” I say excitedly, just as she snaps a picture. I turn to Beckham. “I need to go to Home Joy tomorrow. I always go the day after Thanksgiving. Like get there before it opens at five. I’ve been distracted by you the past few days, so I wasn’t thinking about it, but I’ll set my alarm and go over there first thing while you’re still sleeping.”

“Wait. You’re going to get up before five to go to Home Joy? ” The scowl is back on his face, and I can’t help but put my fingertips over his turned-down lips and push them upward into a smile.

“Yes, Grumpy. But I know you can’t go this time. You have to be ready for morning skate at the arena. So I’ll get up and go while you’re still sleeping.”

“What could they possibly have that you need? You already got the maniacal nutcracker.”

“Maybe I want another one in a different color,” I tease. “Or one just for your house!”

The scowl deepens further, and I smile at him.

“Beckham, we do need to have Christmas decor here, it won’t feel right without it,” I insist.

He sighs heavily. Then to my surprise, he retrieves his wallet, whips out a credit card, and extends it to me. “Do what you will.”

I stare at the card in shock, then I put out my hand in a stop motion. “No, no, I don’t want your card.”

“I know you don’t, but I want you to have it. Go crazy at Home Joy. I want to be dazzled when I get home tomorrow from practice. I’m checking out of the hotel before I head to the arena. I’ll get Minnie settled here and then go to practice, and you should be back here by the time I get home.”

I still don’t take it.

“Georgie. Don’t make me grumpy. It will make me happy thinking of you going to town in there.”

I relent and take the card from him, touched by his kindness. “Thank you. I will make this place very Christmassy for you.”

“Of that I have no doubt.” Then he turns to Sofia. “You and Aaron each have a set of keys to this place, right?”

“Yes,” she answers just as Lucy walks up to her.

“Mommy, can we have treats?” she asks.

“Yes, we’ll have some in a few minutes,” she promises.

“Okay, Mommy,” she says. Then she looks up at me. “After we have treats can I get Elsa hair?”

I grin down at her. “Yes, I will do Elsa hair.”

She runs toward me, wraps her tiny hands around my leg, and I reach down and stroke the top of her dark hair.

“Thank you, Georgie!” she says before scurrying off.

“Back to the keys,” Beckham says. “You can leave one set of keys in the drop box but give the other set to Georgie. That way she can come back here with all her Christmas cra—stuff.”

“Sure,” Sofia says. “Just remind me before you leave. Now this is weird because you’re already dating and not fake dating, so this is the last piece of advice I’ll give you. I’m going to text you those pictures right now and you should get them up on your socials. Let the team see that you’re having a very homey Thanksgiving with your girlfriend.”

“Yes, boss,” Beckham says, flashing her a grin.

Before long, he has headed back into the living room to play with the girls, and I retrieve my phone out of my purse and follow Sofia into the kitchen.

“May I help you with anything?” I ask.

“Oh no, I’ve got this,” she says. Then she smiles softly at me. “I’m so happy you and Beckham are dating. You’re exactly what he needs, Georgie. I’m thrilled it’s real.”

I smile back at her. “Sofia, I can tell you he’s exactly what I need, too. He’s made me see myself in a whole new light. He listens to me. Supports me. Tells me what I need to hear. I’m a better person already because of him. I truly mean that.”

Her gaze locks on mine. “I can tell you do,” she says softly. “I’m just so happy someone saw past that stupid facade he’s put up for years to see the Beckham I know and love. But what makes me happier? That that person is you , Georgie.”

Suddenly I’m overwhelmed with gratitude on this day we give thanks. I’m thankful that Sofia happened to go to the craft show. That she approached me with this crazy idea that brought Beckham into my life.

My gaze shifts across the open space to Beckham, who is sitting on the sofa with Stella in his lap as they watch cartoons on TV. Lucy is cuddled up beside him, and my heart melts upon seeing how much his nieces love him—and how much he loves them, too.

I smile to myself. Once again, I can’t help but think that he’s going to be a great father someday.

I feel Sofia’s gaze on my profile, and I turn to find her staring at me.

“He loves those girls,” she says softly as she places a pecan pie on the countertop. “He does Connectivity Video Chats with them all season long. And he reads them a story once a week for bedtime.”

“He does?” I ask as Sofia opens another cabinet and takes out a stack of dessert plates.

“He does. Not what you’d expect from the partying hockey player, but that is his core. He loves his family. He’s fierce about that. And I suspect he’s pretty fierce about his feelings for you, too.”

I have a feeling greater than butterflies in my stomach.

It’s more like hummingbirds taking flight, their wings flapping manically as I think about Beckham’s feelings for me.

Lucy pads into the kitchen and heads straight up to Sofia. “Mommy, can I give Uncle Becks a turkey cookie?”

“A turkey cookie?” Beckham calls out. He rises from the sofa, taking a moment to put Stella down, and strolls into the kitchen. “Does it have gravy frosting?”

“Noooooooooo!” Lucy shrieks with laughter.

“Does it taste like meat?” he continues, scooping her up.

“No! That’s gross!” she declares. “They are yummy.”

“Do you want me to have one?” Beckham asks.

“Yes!”

“Then I will,” he says, putting her back down.

“They’re sugar cookies,” Sofia explains. “Would you like dessert, Georgie? I have pumpkin pie, chocolate pecan pie, and turkey sugar cookies with not-gravy frosting.”

“You need a cookie!” Lucy tells me. “We made them!”

“Then I will have a cookie and a slice of pumpkin pie,” I say.

Suddenly the Etsy cash register sound goes off on my phone, and Lucy looks amazed. “What was that?” she asks.

“Georgie has made a sale, isn’t that great?” Beckham says.

I go over to my phone and pick it up. I unlock it, and to my shock, I see that something has happened.

“Oh!” I gasp.

“What?” Beckham asks.

“I’ve sold out of ivory jars!” I say excitedly. “I’ve never sold out of any jar ever! But all the ivory ones are gone!”

Then I look at my sales page, and my eyes nearly pop out of my head. “And Beckham! My jars are in lots of carts!”

He comes over to me and leans in so he can look at my phone. “Georgie, that’s fantastic!”

“There’s a percentage of those that should become sales,” I say excitedly. “Oh, I owe Becca so much. I need to text her tomorrow and ask if I can take her to lunch!”

“How many have you sold today?” he asks.

I check my dashboard. Then my eyes widen. I knew I was making a lot of sales, but I had no idea it was this many.

“Thirty-one,” I say. I can hear the amazed tone in my voice. “Thirty-one jars in one day!”

A huge smile lights up Beckham’s face. “Georgie, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

As I look up at him, I see the pride shining in his eyes. He truly is proud of me, and I’m so happy, I want to burst.

“You’re going to crush it at the show on Saturday,” he says.

“I hope so.”

“You will. I know you will.”

I see nothing but belief in Beckham’s eyes, and suddenly, I believe it, too.

My phone pings with another notification, and I can’t help but glance down to see what it is. It’s on my Connectivity account. Then I tap it open and see it’s a comment from Ella on a picture I’ve been tagged in.

A picture of me and Beckham.

I tap open the post and see that he has posted two pics of us—one of us in front of Sofia’s wreath, our arms wrapped around each other, and then there’s another one she took, one we didn’t notice. It was Beckham looking down at me and cupping my cheek with his hand, after I thought all the pictures had been taken. It’s a very sweet and romantic picture, and I love the way he’s looking at me in this shot. Then I go on to read the caption that Beckham has written for these pictures.

Thankful.

That’s all he wrote. I glance up at him, and he’s helping himself to a piece of pumpkin pie and talking to Sofia. His caption says so much with one word.

He’s thankful for me.

All the big feelings begin to crest within me, but one rises to the surface above all others as I think of Beckham. I think of how he’s handled my family today, how he’s encouraged me to stand up for myself, and how much he believes in my art and my business.

The same feeling rushes through me as I watch him interact with his sister.

I’m thankful, too. Thankful beyond measure that somehow fate led us to be together, even if we did start by negotiating a fake relationship.

Because what I feel for Beckham is very, very real.

And I already know I’m falling in love with him.