Page 114 of The Defender

The players scattered at her direction. It was a friends and family-only event with no external vendors, so it was up to us to make it happen. However, decorations didn’t take that long, and there were so many cooks in the kitchen that Emily eventually banished us to the rest of the house.

With nothing else left to do, I offered to look after Truffle while Adil roped Stevens into helping him finalize the playlist.

The dulcet tones of Mariah Carey rang through the house, followed by some sort of French rap song and “Jingle Bell Rock.”

“Oh, sweetie, is it too loud for you? It’s okay. Come here.” I gently coaxed Truffle out from under the coffee table, where he was shivering in his mini Christmas sweater. Apparently, he was not a fan of holiday music.

He eyed me warily before inching toward my hands.

“Come here. That’s it,” I said as he took the final cautious step from out under the table. He grunted happily when I petted him on the head, but his ears really perked up after Vincent walked into the room.

Truffle immediately trotted over to him. The little pig bumped his nose against his shin and oinked.

“Hey, buddy.” Vincent picked him up, eliciting more oinks and something that sounded suspiciously like a purr. I had no idea pigs could even purr.

“You’re like the pig whisperer,” I said, amazed.

“What can I say? Truffle has good taste.” He petted the ecstatic pig on the head. “I missed ya, little guy. Hope Stevenshas been treating you well. Pretty fucked up of him to put you in such an ugly sweater though.”

An oink of agreement.

My heart freaking melted. Some women loved seeing guys hold babies, but seeing Vincent cuddle a miniature pig made my ovaries explode. He was so dominant on the pitch, but his soft side off the pitch was even more attractive.

We sat next to each other on the couch while we waited for dinner to be announced.

“My dad just texted,” I said, checking my phone. “He can’t make it. He’s still at the office.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Vincent said. “The gala was enough socializing for him for the year.”

“True.” I leaned my head against his shoulder while he wrapped his free arm around me. A fire crackled five feet away, casting a glow of warmth over my face and chest.

This was what contentment felt like.

“How did your date with Leopard Dress go?” I asked.

Vincent had finally gone on his auction date earlier this week. He’d wanted to get it over with, so he’d convinced the winner to squeeze something in before Christmas, but we hadn’t had a chance to debrief since he’d been so busy prepping for today’s match.

“Not as bad as I thought it would. She backed down when I told her I had a girlfriend, though that didn’t stop her from giving me her number at the end of the night. You know, she’s not even from London? She flies here from New York every year for the auction.”

“Oh!” I blinked. “That’s…dedication.”

“Yeah.” Vincent hesitated, then asked, “Speaking of flights, did you buy your tickets for California yet?”

I hoped he didn’t notice the way my shoulders stiffened. “Yeah. I leave the Friday before she’s due.”

I’d officially agreed to be there for my mom’s C-section, but I counted down the days like a death row inmate waiting for their demise.

“Look on the bright side.” Vincent rubbed my arm reassuringly. He’d definitely noticed. “At least the weather will be nicer there.”

I let out a reluctant laugh. “True.”

The familiar ring of his phone interrupted our conversation. Vincent picked it up, his face paling. “It’s Smith.”

I sat up straight and stared at him in shock. Vincent had forwarded Smith the strange text he’d received in Budapest, but other than a “message received” confirmation, the detective had been MIA.

If he was calling the day after Christmas, it had to be important, right?

I took Truffle from Vincent’s arms while he answered and greeted Smith. Other than the occasional “Yes” and “I see,” he didn’t say much during their conversation. His expression gave even less away.