Lucky Hit (Swift Hat-Trick Trilogy Book 1)

A couple of hours later, all of my toes are back to a less purply hue, and the house smells delicious, like turkey and potatoes and every other kind of dish you could possibly find at a holiday dinner.

Anne kicked Gracie and me out of the kitchen a few minutes ago after we finished mashing the potatoes, and we’ve been sitting in the living room with the guys ever since.

Oakley’s fingers draw slow circles on my arm as Gracie anxiously taps her fingers on her thigh. She’s trying not to stare at Tyler from where he sits in an armchair across the room but is failing miserably. Every time I look away from the Elf movie playing on the TV, I find her looking at him with a blooming attraction in her eyes.

Reaching toward her, I poke the outside of her thigh. She whips her head to the side and lifts her eyebrows at me. I dart my eyes between her and Tyler.

I lean as far as I can without drawing Oakley’s attention and whisper, “Stop staring.”

A red hue slithers up her cheeks. “Right,” she whispers back.

The last thing any of us needs tonight is for Oakley to beat up Tyler because his sister has a crush on him. Not to mention that Gracie’s boyfriend, Jacob, should be here any minute.

Talk about awkward.

“It makes me jealous that you and my sister have secrets already. Why don’t we have any secrets that only you and I know about?” Oakley murmurs into my hair.

I shiver as his breath slides down the back of my neck. “We could always make some.”

He kisses my head. “I’d like that.”

“What are you two whispering about over there? You’re making me feel excluded.” Gracie clucks her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

“It’s a secret,” Oakley tells her, and I feel his lips parting into a smile in my hair.

“Of course it is,” Gracie groans.

“I think I hear another guest!” Anne exclaims, bustling into the living room. An apron is tied around her neck and over a dress she must have just recently changed into. Written across the front of the apron is World’s Best Mom. It fits her perfectly.

I grin at her. “You look beautiful, Anne.”

The black dress comes to a stop a few inches above her ankles, and beautiful yellow daisies are splattered across the silky material.

“Oh, no need to flatter me. I already like you.” She grins. There’s a set of four knocks on the front door, and Anne hurries toward it. A rush of wind bucks into the house when she pulls open the door and urges the new person inside.

“What’s up with the storm out there? Shit’s insane,” a low voice says, sounding like the owner swallowed gravel.

“It came out of nowhere! I’m glad you got here okay,” Anne sighs.

“I would drive through a tornado for your turkey, Anne.”

“Oh, knock off the flattery, Andre. There will be plenty of leftovers for you without you kissing my ass.”

“I would never. It’s all the truth.”

Oakley places one more kiss to my head before standing up and heading toward the new arrival. I can’t see the guy until Anne mumbles something about the turkey and leaves the room, exposing the two friends.

“So glad you could make it.” Oakley fist pumps his friend and pulls him in for a quick yet tight hug.

Andre is maybe an inch or two shorter than Oakley and truly does live up to the hype appearance-wise. He reeks of playboy, which is no surprise from what I’ve heard.

Oakley has only told me a handful of things about Andre over the past few months, but he seems to have been a good friend to him in the past, and that’s good enough for me.

“You heard me. I came for Anne.” The two guys laugh before pulling apart and facing the rest of us.

Oakley gestures to me, and I smile. “Ava, this ass kisser is Andre. Andre, this is my girlfriend, Ava.”

Andre slowly looks me up and down before smirking. “You forgot to mention that she’s a fucking smoke show, bro.”

“Don’t call my girl a smoke show,” Oakley growls.

“Yuck, Andre.” Gracie pretends to retch.

Andre blows her a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Gravy.”

Tyler makes a choking noise, drawing everyone’s attention. “Gravy? That’s terrible.”

“Little G here loves it. Ain’t that right, Gracie?”

Gracie’s face looks like it’s on fire. I feel bad for her. “I hate you.”

“Whatever you say,” Andre sings before turning to me again, not bothering to hide his attraction. “You know, Ava, if you eve—”

“No.” Oakley scowls.

Andre’s chest shakes with silent laughter. “No what?”

“Don’t say it unless you want your ass in the snow. Ava’s not someone for you to razz.” Oakley moves back to me and, with a gentle touch, reaches his arm across his body and pulls at my fingers, shifting me so I’m at his side. He plays with the fingers on my right hand as I press the other to his lower back and fiddle with the loops on his jeans.

Andre looks genuinely shocked by the display of affection. On the other hand, it doesn’t seem like anyone else is. Oakley hasn’t been able to keep his hands off me since Tyler and I got here.

“Damn. Seems like you’ve found the one after all. Now, who’s going to be the one to break it to all the fangirls? I’ve already seen some of the comments on the photos of you playing beer pong, and even I would have been feeling pretty scalped after that.”

Silence.

It’s so quiet I start to worry if everyone can hear the sound of my stomach falling between my knees. I feel like I could take a play from Gracie’s book and start retching, for real this time.

Social media has been a no go for me since the night Oakley and I were photographed together at that party and it was posted online. There weren’t many comments at the time, but because I wasn’t suspecting it, each one hit deep, at my weakest points.

I’ve never put much value into the opinions of others, so it was an easy decision for me to put my accounts on private and avoid checking in if possible. But hearing one of Oakley’s closest friends bring it up feels like sandpaper on a scabbed wound.

Those photos are old news; I thought they would be forgotten by now.

“Andre,” Oakley snaps. His fingers tighten their hold, but I can’t tell if it’s to calm himself or support me. Either way, I easily return the squeeze.

“I’d stop when you’re ahead, if I were you,” Tyler grunts.

Andre scoffs and tries to defend himself. “I’m not being a dick, guys. I’m just curious.”

“Those people have nothing better to do. Their opinions mean nothing and stem from a place of jealousy. Oakley hasn’t brought a girl home ever, and that says it all to me. Stop causing drama,” Gracie reprimands Andre.

Warmth fills me at her words. My lips curl into a smile. “Thank you,” I mouth to her. She nods and mouths, “Anytime,” before turning up the volume on the TV, filling the silence with Will Ferrell’s voice.

My appreciation for Oakley’s little sister grows tenfold. I’ve never really gotten along with people younger than me, but I’m happy to know she’s an exception.

As everyone starts to go back to their own thoughts, Oakley releases my hand and steps toward Andre. His back muscles are taut, and his lips are turned down instead of up like they usually are.

He speaks to his best friend in a low, frigid voice, and I barely catch the words.

“Consider that your one free pass. Bring up any of that shit to Ava or myself again and you’ll be playing the rest of the season without your front teeth. Best friend or not.”

“That was delicious, Anne. I guarantee my mom would be gushing about your caramelized carrots if she were here,” I say once we’ve all finished eating.

My stomach is trying to pop open the button on my jeans, regardless of how hard I try to suck it in. Oakley’s hand warms my knee as he holds it beneath the table and carries on a conversation about hockey with Tyler.

The awkward tension from earlier dissipated as soon as we started piling our plates with food. I can finally breathe again.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Will you help me with the dishes?” Anne’s eyes shine with happiness.

I nod eagerly and start to collect the plates, giggling when Oakley pinches the underside of my ass when I grab his plate. Once all the dishes are gathered, we start washing. Anne fills the sink with warm soapy water, a light hum filling the peaceful space as I start loading the dishwasher.

“I’m so happy you could make it today,” Anne says.

“I’m happy to be here. You’re a fabulous cook.” I place a glass bowl on the top rack.

“Coming from the daughter of two professional chefs, I’ll take that compliment.” We both laugh while she starts to scrub a gravy dish.

“I’m sure Mom would love to share recipes. If she could talk about food for all hours of the day, she would.”

“Well, I would happily let her.”

I slide two forks into the dishwasher. “I could give her your number if you want. If not, that’s totally okay. It’s not like you need to talk to a chef about your cooking—you’re really amazing. Okay, now I’m rambling.” Am I sweating? Why am I suddenly so nervous?

A warm hand touches my shoulder as Anne laughs softly. “You don’t need to be nervous with me, sweetie. You could have walked through my door with a third eye or pastel green skin and I would have still adored you simply because you make my son happy and he loves you.”

That makes me pause, turning to a statue.

“That surprises you?” she asks.

“We haven’t really said that to each other yet,” I wheeze.

“That’s okay. You’re both so young. It’ll come.”

“You sound so sure.”

She hums thoughtfully. “I know my son well, Ava. There’s no way he would have brought you to meet me if he didn’t see a future with you, and the way he watches you when he thinks nobody is looking? He couldn’t hide those feelings from me.”

“Can I ask you something?” I blurt out, her words sinking deep and scaring me far more than I want to admit.

Anne turns to me with a gentle smile and pulls her hands out of the sink, wiping them on a dishtowel. “Always, honey.”

“Do you ever worry about when he’ll be gone?”

She raises a now dry hand to her neck and grasps the locket dangling on a chain in a tight fist. “Of course I do. But I know he’ll always be here when we need him. Oakley has been taking care of Gracie and me ever since his father passed away. He needs this chance to move on.”

My breath skips, and Anne curses under her breath. I’m sure I look like a maniac as I stare at her, my lips parted in surprise. A sudden pain ricochets through me, one that has me wanting to run toward my boyfriend and wrap him in my arms.

“Is there any chance you already knew that and I didn’t just completely stick my foot in my mouth?” she asks, her features crinkled. I just shake my head. “Oh, shit.”

“It’s okay. I can’t pretend I never wondered why he never talks about his dad.” Or why he’s not here spending Christmas with them. “You didn’t know.”

“Please, let me finish these dishes while you go talk to him. I don’t want to be the one to tell you anything more that he should have the chance to.” She sniffles before rushing to the roll of paper towel on the counter. Tearing one off, she hides her face and sniffs again. “Oh, Lord. Here I go.”

Something has me moving around her and wrapping the tiny, hunched woman in my arms, hugging her tight. She lets me hold her for a few seconds before returning the gesture and wetting the corner of my shirt with tears I’m happy I can’t see.

“Tell him that I’m sorry for blurting this all out before he had the chance to tell you. Please, Ava.”

“Of course.”

She sniffles one final time before stepping back. Besides a light red ring around her eyes, you would never know she had been crying.

“Thank you. For this, but also for being you. I can see why Oakley has fallen for you.” The sincerity in her eyes is a bit overwhelming. Thankfully, she just gifts me one more smile and then turns back to the sink, resuming her washing.

With that, I steel my spine and walk back out to the dining room, coming face to face with the only person left at the table.

I can’t even try to pretend I didn’t just learn about his father when Oakley stares up at me with a pain in his eyes that says he heard everything.