Mosquitoes and Mistletoe

by Ren Holly

  “The filling is quick,” Garrett suggested. “Bake the tart shells, and I’ll skiff off for sugar. You’ll have just enough time to flash broil the tarts to crisp them up on top.”

  “Wait, you can bake?” asked Andrew, surprised, momentarily forgetting the crisis. Garrett smiled timidly.

  “I’ve baked with my mom too.” He shrugged. Andrew eyed him skeptically.

  “You don’t mind skiffing off?” he asked hesitantly. “Aren’t you off today?”

  “I don’t mind.” Garrett waved him away, already heading for the dock.

  Andrew rushed back into the kitchen to open windows and turn on fans. The office staff began wandering in to observe the damage.

  “Are you sure you can cook on Christmas day?” asked Grace doubtfully.

  “Yes,” Andrew snapped. “Now everyone out! I’m in a hurry.”

  For the next hour, he frantically readied the necessary materials so that all he would have to do was cook down the cranberries and stir in the remaining ingredients. He carefully placed the shells in the oven as Garrett suggested. By the time the dinner bell rang, the shells were cooling on the stove, and Andrew was pacing circles in the kitchen. The chef plated the food, and the rest of the kitchen staff began serving.

  “It’s too late,” the chef sighed. “They won’t be done in time.”

  “Yes, they will!” Garrett called as he burst through the back door with an impossibly large bag of sugar. “I can help. What still needs done?”

  “I need three cups of sugar,” Andrew replied, water and cranberries already in hand. “The filling will cook down in about five minutes; then we can bake them for another five. We’ll be wrapping up just as they finish dinner.”

  The chef nodded. “I’ll be taste testing,” he warned.

  Garrett stirred the filling as Andrew added additional ingredients. Then they quickly spooned a small amount into each of the mini shells and carefully placed them in the oven. Garrett peeked in to watch the tarts crisp as Andrew resumed pacing.

  “I hope it works,” he sighed, wringing his hands. “Otherwise I’m back to dishwashing for sure.”

  “They won’t demote you for one mistake,” Garrett insisted.

  The timer sounded, and Miguel reappeared like a gatekeeper prepared to deny entry to the unworthy. Garrett watched as Andrew carefully removed one of the tarts from the pan and placed it on a plate for the chef. They watched as he took a bite.

  “Hmmm.” He contemplated. “I might need one more just to ensure consistency.” A small smile cracked his otherwise expressionless mask.

  “You just want another one!” Andrew realized, relief washing over him.

  “They’re great.” Miguel laughed. “You can’t even tell they were cooked differently from the other batch. Good job.”

  “It was Garrett’s idea.”

  The chef nodded at them and then took off to the dining area, tarts in hand. “You can clock out for the day,” he called over his shoulder. Andrew sighed as the pressure of the day melted away.

  “Thanks for your help.” Andrew shuffled awkwardly, looking everywhere but at Garrett. “Let me know if I can return the favor.”

  “You can.” Garrett grinned mischievously.

  Chapter 5

  A FEW days later, Garrett came to inform Andrew that they had the same day off. By midafternoon Andrew found himself ankle deep in marsh mud. They had parked their bikes on the trail and set out on foot—just as Andrew had sworn he wouldn’t.

  “Aren’t there snakes out here?” he asked cautiously, tiptoeing on only the barest patches of mud.

  “Maybe?”

  “You’re a naturalist.” Andrew gaped. “So you should already know that there are poisonous snakes out here!”

  “Venomous,” Garrett corrected without looking back.

  “Huh?” asked Andrew, painstakingly checking each step before putting his foot down. He jumped every time the marsh grass tickled his leg.

  “Poisonous means you’ll get sick if you eat it,” Garrett explained, trudging on without concern. “Venom is injected, so things like bee stings or snakebites.”

  “You’re not making me feel better about this,” Andrew complained.

  “Don’t worry,” Garrett consoled. “I think you’ll scare them off in that outfit.”

  Andrew was wearing a full-body bug net, compliments of Garrett, and thankfully so. The mosquitoes swarmed around Andrew by the hundreds. Garrett, on the other hand, must have been blessed with foul-tasting blood, because only a couple of the buzzing monsters even bothered to investigate his presence.

  “Not funny,” Andrew quipped. In exchange for his help with the sugar fiasco the day before, Garrett had requested Andrew accompany him fishing. It seemed like a fair trade, and Andrew was relieved it didn’t involve any kissing. However, that was before talk of leaving the trail.

  Andrew froze. A deep buzzing sound erupted from the marsh grass, seemingly all around him. Andrew was sure it was rattlesnake. He squeezed his eyes closed and held his breath.

  “Garrett!” he called through clenched teeth.

  Garrett turned around just in time to see a giant cricket leap from the marsh grass and land on Andrew’s shirt. Andrew shrieked, turned tail, and ran for his life, desperately swatting at his clothes. Despite his panic, he could still hear Garrett laughing. Andrew paused on a completely bare patch of mud and shook the cricket from his shirt. It hopped off, oblivious to the chaos it had just caused. Andrew closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He could hear Garrett shuffling through the tall grass after him.

  “Wait up!” Garrett called, still laughing, “There are no rattlesnakes!”

  Andrew turned to glare at Garrett.

  “It’s winter. They only come out of their dens on warm, sunny days to bask, and even then, they don’t typically go very far.”

  “I thought we were going to fish on the beach,” Andrew growled through clenched teeth, feeling ridiculous and unassuming in his mesh prison.

  “There is a good fishing hole just ahead,” Garrett said, pleadingly. His clear hazel eyes sparkled in the warm December breeze.

  Andrew’s anger melted a little. He looked down to the fishing pole in his hand and sighed.

  “I don’t know how to use this,” he grumbled halfheartedly.

  “I’ll show you!” Garrett promised. “Now let’s go!”

  Garrett wasted no time when they reached their destination. He tossed a giant net into a pool of water. When he pulled it back, it contained several nondescript silver fish.

  “Wow! You’re a real outdoorsman!” Andrew praised. “I guess we don’t need the fishing poles.”

  Garrett struggled to contain his amusement. “This is the bait.” He carefully selected a couple of the smaller fish and threw the rest back.

  Andrew watched, dumbstruck, as Garrett hooked a live fish and cast into the pool. The line wandered about as the fish swam around, blissfully ignorant. Garrett handed Andrew the remaining baitfish. Andrew glanced down at it in his hands. It was small, and its mouth puckered helplessly.

  “I can’t,” he confessed. “Let me throw it back.”

  “What?” asked Garrett, confused. “You want me to do it for you?”

  “No.” He tossed the fish back.

  “You’re a softy, huh?” asked Garrett, amused. His line went taut and buzzed as it unwound. “Come reel this one in!”

  “Just spin this part, right?” asked Andrew, taking the rod.

  The fish was heavier than he anticipated. Andrew could sense Garrett watching as he fought it. His biceps burned at the burden, but his pride would not allow him to give up. Some quiet part of his heart really wanted to impress Garrett.

  “There it is!” Andrew called, swept away in the excitement.

  “Oh, it’s a redfish!” Garrett exclaimed. “And it’s huge! I bet it’s at least thirty inches!” Using a net, he helped pull the fighting beast from the water and unhooked it. “See the tail spot?
” he asked, pointing. “These are my favorite.”

  “Are you going to kill it?” asked Andrew nervously.

  “No,” Garrett said, admiring the fish. “It’s too big. These guys have a slot limit, which means you can only keep the medium-sized ones.”

  “Why?” asked Andrew, obviously relieved. The silver scales of the fish shimmered as it strained in the foreign environment, burdened, possibly for the first time in its life, by gravity.

  “The idea is to protect reproductive individuals while keeping the catchable size up,” Garrett explained. “Basically it makes conservationists and anglers happy.”

  “Let’s take a picture,” Andrew suggested. “My friends back home won’t believe it!” Garrett placed the fish in Andrew’s hands and coached him on how to hold it.

  “Where is your phone?” asked Garrett.

  “Oh, it’s in my pocket.” Andrew frowned, both hands occupied with the fish. Without hesitation Garrett reached in and pulled out the phone. Butterflies erupted in Andrew’s gut when he was met with Garrett’s roughish grin. He smiled timidly in spite of himself. Garrett positioned himself behind Andrew and reached around to take the picture. Andrew could feel Garrett’s muscular chest pressed against his back, and he was sure Garrett was tempting him on purpose.

  “One, two, three!” Garrett counted. Just as he snapped the picture, the fish lurched and tumbled back into the water.

  “Whoops,” Andrew mumbled, peering down the steep bank into the pool. The fish had already zoomed away. Garrett burst into laughter. He was staring at the picture through tears. “What’s so funny?” asked Andrew, reaching for the phone.

  “No way.” Garrett dodged. “You’ll delete it. Let me send it to myself!”

  Andrew lunged for the phone, and Garrett dodged again, still laughing. Andrew made a second attempt. This time they both went down in a muddy plop. Garrett wrestled to get free, still desperately trying to send the picture. Andrew swatted at the phone, and it flew from Garrett’s hand, landing in the mud with a plop. Garrett pushed Andrew down and pinned him with the length of his body, stretching his arm to reach for the phone. Andrew found his face buried in Garrett’s chest. Despite their long bike ride and hike through the marsh, Garrett still smelled like pine. Andrew could feel his heart rate picking up.

  “Get off,” he barked.

  Garrett glanced down at him, surprised. As Andrew struggled to push Garrett off, he noticed a flash of recognition on Garrett’s face. Andrew was hard, and they both knew it. He continued to struggle under the weight of Garrett’s muscular body.

  “Garrett, please,” he begged. Garrett rolled off him without saying a word. Andrew stood up to assess the damage. Mud caked the back of his head all the way down to his legs. Mosquitoes swarmed. The mesh clung to his damp body, all but useless.

  “Come here,” Garrett sighed. “I’ll help you.” He stood up and shook some of the mud from the mesh, though parts still hugged Andrew’s frame. A heavy silence hung in the air. Garrett didn’t seem sure if he should apologize to Andrew or console him.

  He eventually went with “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you apologizing?” Andrew asked, plopping back down into the mud with his head in his hands. How embarrassing.

  “Because you’re upset,” Garrett said, taking a seat by Andrew. “And you should apologize when you upset someone.”

  “Then I’m sorry too,” Andrew said, peeking over at Garrett. “For just now, and for avoiding you.”

  Garrett ran his hand through the tall marsh grass. The breeze tousled his hair. “Why were you avoiding me?” he asked. “I won’t keep pressuring you to date me since it’s clear that you don’t want to.”

  Andrew cringed. He had been too harsh.

  “It’s not you,” he mumbled, pushing dirt around with his finger. “I’m scared,” he admitted. “My breakup is fresh. I don’t want to get hurt again, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I get it,” Garrett said. “I’m scared too.” He paused before adding, “But I think you’re worth the risk.”

  Andrew groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Why does he have to be so charming? Garrett was taking a sledgehammer to his resistance. Through the crack between his arms, he could see Garrett’s hand resting on the mud—he reached for it. When their eyes met, he leaned in slowly. Garrett hesitated, a smirk tugging at his lips.

  “What is it now?” groaned Andrew, exasperated. Garrett reached up and tugged on the mesh barrier in front of Andrew’s face. He blushed furiously, having completely forgotten about the bug suit. “So not sexy,” he groaned.

  “I don’t hate it.” Garrett grinned. “Come on.” He pulled Andrew to his feet and led him through the marsh back to their bikes.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Chapter 6

  ANDREW ZOOMED after Garrett down a gravel road, bordered on both sides by expansive stretches of marsh. Short, shrubby vegetation lined the road. The ever-present mosquitoes buzzed loudly in their wake. Rolling clouds of pink and purple interrupted the vibrant hues of orange and yellow that lit up the sky as the sun began to set. They arrived at a small gazebo. Garrett parked his bike, grabbed a towel, and gestured for Andrew to follow. They set off on foot over a winding boardwalk through the rolling dunes brought to life by shorebirds, lizards, ghost crabs, and sea oats.

  “What are those?” Andrew pointed.

  “Oystercatchers,” Garrett answered, squinting at the birds. “In the summer they lay their eggs right on the sand. The parents take turns shading the nest.”

  Andrew loved listening to the naturalists, particularly Garrett. He pointed out so many interesting things Andrew would have overlooked—everything from spiders the size of his fists to rare birds and squeaky toads.

  “The eggs don’t get eaten out in the open?” Andrew asked, still admiring the birds.

  “No, the camouflage is unbelievable. I’ll show you this summer.” Though small and seemingly insignificant, the promise made Andrew hopeful. He followed Garrett over the developing dunes, past a black-and-white light post, and onto the beach. There was not a soul in sight. In the distance, a flock of terns gazed into the wind.

  “You can take the bug suit off,” Garrett assured Andrew, reaching for the zipper. “There are no mosquitoes here.”

  Andrew admired the sunset as Garrett unzipped the mesh. The mud had dried, caking the suit firmly to Andrew’s clothes. Garrett ran his hand between the fabrics to separate them. A shudder racked through Andrew as Garrett’s hands brushed down the length of his back. He watched as Garrett kneeled so that he could step out of the mesh. The gesture was inexplicably romantic. If the situation were different, he’d swear Garrett was about to produce a glass slipper—or a ring.

  “It feels good to be out of that thing,” said Andrew, blushing at the direction his thoughts had taken. He took a deep breath of the salty ocean air and watched as the waves broke over the sand and shimmered in the fading light. Without hesitation, Garrett stood and pulled Andrew into an embrace and brushed some mud off of his cheek. “There is no mesh in my way now.” Andrew smiled wryly.

  “Nope,” grinned Garrett, leaning in.

  Andrew closed his eyes and gently met Garrett’s lips. They were soft and full. He eagerly pressed for entry, slipping his tongue in to dance with Garrett’s. His kiss was sweet. It tasted like chocolate and peppermint. Garrett had clearly indulged in one of the treats Andrew had baked. The thought charmed Andrew, and a smile tugged at his lips.

  “What?” asked Garrett, pulling away.

  “You taste like Christmas,” chuckled Andrew.

  Garrett stepped back and reached for Andrew’s hand. “Come with me.”

  He guided Andrew down the beach. They walked until the sun nestled into the horizon, a glittering orb of orange light. Eventually they came to a small, secluded inlet sheltered by sea oats. Garrett laid out a towel and pushed Andrew down upon it. Through the cotton, Andrew could feel the
heat of the sand still warm from the sun. His heart pounded loudly in his chest as Garrett sank to his knees and positioned himself over Andrew. His solid chest eclipsed the sun, casting his entire form into backlit darkness.

  I shouldn’t do this, thought Andrew, but I really want to. Garrett’s eyes blazed with intensity, an intensity Andrew had never seen before—from anyone, particularly not his ex. It was exhilarating. His pulse quickened, and his breath hitched as Garrett’s weight pressed into him. This time Andrew wasn’t the only one who was hard. He arched his back and pressed his arousal into Garrett, eliciting a rumbling growl. What a nice reaction. Andrew buried his head in Garrett’s neck and sucked gently, sending shivers down his spine. Garrett’s breath grew increasingly ragged as he rocked into Andrew to the rhythm of the waves. Just when it was getting good, Garrett rolled off of Andrew, breathless.

  “I’ll come….” He hesitated.

  “That’s the point,” Andrew whispered as he peeled off Garrett’s shirt and pressed him back onto the towel. He paused for a moment to admire Garrett’s beautiful form. His muscles, pulled taut across his chest and torso, cast seductive shadows along his frame. When he looked into Garrett’s eyes, he saw nothing short of burning desire. Wind rustled through Andrew’s golden hair as he placed kisses in a path down Garrett’s chest. He moved slowly and deliberately until Garrett was writhing in desire.

  “Andrew,” he groaned desperately.

  Andrew, continuing his assault, slipped a finger under the waistband of Garrett’s jeans. His thumb grazed Garrett’s tip. He slid down until he felt the lip that separated the head from the shaft. He ran his finger along the junction until it quivered under his touch. Andrew slowly unzipped Garrett’s pants and released his length to the cool breath of the night breeze. Garrett’s skin was exquisitely soft despite the rigidity of his arousal. Garrett sighed and arched in pleasure. Slowly Andrew ran his tongue across the tip, before taking the head into his mouth.

  Garrett gasped. He snaked his fingers through Andrew’s hair. All finer thoughts and intentions were overwhelmed by primal instinct. Garrett wriggled, seemingly struggling to hold himself back. Just when Andrew thought Garrett might succumb to the colossal effort, a spasm rippled through his body, and Garrett released in a wave of ecstasy. He sat up, still panting, and pulled Andrew onto his lap. Garrett positioned their bodies so Andrew’s legs draped gently over his own as they sat on the beach towel face-to-face.