A Very Merry Hockey Holiday (Assassins #6.5)(14)

“Come on, old man! Can’t keep up? I’ve already scored on you twice tonight.”

Despite the fact that he had, Phillip glared.

“Shut up, you little shit,” Phillip sneered as he waited for the puck to drop.

“Ignore him, Anderson,” King hollered at him.

“He’s a punk. Don’t let him get to you,” Titov agreed. “Play hockey, you f*ck face, before you have the whole team kicking your ass.”

“Bring it. I’d take all of you out,” the cocky little shit said.

“You couldn’t take out the trash. Shut the hell up and play hockey,” Shea bellowed at him, and he cowered a bit, but Phillip didn’t miss the defiance in his eyes. He couldn’t fight him though; they were down by two because of his little ass, and they had to catch up. Ending up in the box wouldn’t help the cause of winning, but this kid was dead set on driving Phillip insane.

Meeting Phillip’s gaze, Jude said, “I was considering naming our first kid after you, but for that to happen, I’m going to need you to play some decent hockey.”

Yeah. See the kid brought out some kind of rage inside of him, and without even realizing it, Phillip dropped his gloves and slammed his fist into Jude’s nose. The crowd lost their marbles as the two duked it out. He took the punches like a champ and felt empowered when the kid started to look rattled. But when Jude slammed his fist into Phillip’s jaw, it knocked him off-balance. Soon he was lying on his ass and the fight was stopped as the crowd again lost their shit cheering for their prize player.

Jude punk ass Sinclair.

Little *.



After being razzed by his teammates for getting knocked on his ass by his soon-to-be son-in-law—ugh, he shuddered again—Phillip decided he needed a stiff drink and headed down to the hotel bar. The hotel was decorated for the season, and usually that made him happy, but he was still pissed about Jude and the fact that, at any second, Claire would set a date and he’d have to give her away to that little shit.

He was surprised how much the upcoming wedding affected him. He should be happy for her; she loved this kid something crazy, but man, the thought that she wouldn’t be his but that little shit’s killed him inside. Phillip loved Claire more than an uncle ordinarily would, but that was because she was basically his. He was lucky to have such a beautiful, successful young lady as his niece—well, his daughter. He hadn’t referred to her as his niece in a really long time. She was his daughter. His heart. And he wasn’t about to hand that over to some little punk. Yeah, he’d agreed to it and had given Jude his blessing, but still it was a tough pill to swallow.

He’d hoped maybe she’d say no.

Taking a long pull of his drink, he groaned when his phone rang. He knew it was his wife, and while he wanted nothing more than to hear her voice, he knew he was about to get bitched out.

No reason to prolong the inevitable, he thought as he answered.

“Don’t you think you’re a little too old to be fighting? I mean, come on, he’s a kid.”

“A punk, had to shut him up,” he informed her and smiled when she let out an annoyed breath. He loved driving her insane.

“Um, he knocked you on your ass. So really, who shut whom up?”

Phillip glared. “Are you my wife or his?”

“Oh hush, if you didn’t go fighting our future son-in-law, then I wouldn’t tease you.”

“He had it coming.”

“Well, I think it is just silly.”

“Well, I think he is an *.”

“He’s the * marrying our baby, so I’m going to need you to suck it up and accept him.”

His response was a grunt, but his smile was back when she laughed. Her laugh was so airy and happy; it always hit him straight in the core. He loved to make her laugh. And scream. “I miss you, woman.”

“Aw, I miss you. Sawyer and I are making ornaments.”

Disappointed, he said, “I thought you were going to wait for me.”

“We are only doing the little ones. We’ll do our family ones together.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I think I might wait till Claire gets in. She should be home in a couple days, even though for a minute there, I thought she wasn’t coming.”

Phillip panicked a bit. Everything had already changed so much; he needed Claire to come home for Christmas. “Huh? Why?”

“Jude has a game in New York.”

“So?”

She scoffed. “Well, she wants to be with her fiancé.”

“But we are her family.”

“Phillip, come on,” she deadpanned. “You can’t blame her for wanting to be with him.”

“Yes, I can,” he said grumpily. “I don’t like this.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He glared even though she wasn’t in front of him as she said, “She’s coming home, he told her to, so she wouldn’t miss Christmas with us since he was flying in and out. He won’t even be able to see his family. They are going to do a late Christmas before New Year’s. Apparently his momma isn’t too happy, but she is dealing.”

He knew he was being selfish, but he was glad that Claire was coming home. “She isn’t happy about it, though?”