Mistletoes and Apple Pie

by Lynn Hagen

  Sherman wrinkled his nose. “I need to pull that Christmas tree out of your ass. Come on, get into the spirit, dude. We’re sitting with him, and if you don’t want to get on his naughty list, you’ll behave.”

  “Well, gentlemen, it was a pleasure, but I have errands to run.” Nick laid his plump hand on Payton’s and gave him a warm smile. “I hope things get better for you, son.”

  Why on earth did Payton feel like crying? He didn’t even know this guy, and Payton was not a crier. Yet, as the guy patted his hand and walked away, Payton felt a tight lump form in his throat.

  “See,” Sherman said in a hushed tone. “Santa always makes you feel better.”

  “It wasn’t Santa.”

  “God.” Sherman slumped in his seat. “I know Santa isn’t real, but there was a time when you would have gone along with it. You could’ve let me pretend for a while. I’m ready to go when you are.”

  When they left the shop, Payton placed a hand on Sherman’s arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I think I just have the holiday blahs.”

  The only thing that helped Payton’s mood was knowing he would have dinner with Miller. Though now he was afraid he’d blow that, too. Ugh! He needed a swift kick in the ass.

  “Look. I can’t force you to enjoy this time of year,” Sherman said. “But I definitely don’t want you bringing me down. I’m already depressed that I’m single. Stop making this harder on me.”

  Payton tossed his cup in the nearest trashcan then slid his arm in Sherman’s. “Let’s start over and enjoy our afternoon.”

  Sherman eyed him, as if he didn’t trust Payton’s new mood. “I seriously think you need meds.”

  “I just might.” Payton hauled him down the street to start their Christmas shopping, hoping his new mood lasted through dinner.

  Chapter Four

  Payton pulled his coat around him as he stepped out of his car. The wind was whipping cold by the time he made it to The Diner Train. He stepped inside to not only wondrous smells but Christmas decorations.

  The decorations were a reminder of how alone he would be this holiday. His mom had called an hour before and had invited him to come home, but Payton had made up an excuse. He was lonely, not desperate. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to them argue all day.

  Payton looked around and spotted Miller, who was seated in the last booth by the bathroom. Payton sucked in a deep breath, telling himself not to screw this up.

  The diner was crowded, and Payton had to wait a few seconds to get past a family who had just exited their seats. As he waited, Payton looked around and groaned when he noticed Nick.

  No, he was not going to believe it was Santa Claus, no matter how badly Sherman wanted it to be true. Nick was just some plump guy with rosy cheeks and wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

  As soon as Miller spotted Payton, he stood halfway up and smiled. Payton was dazzled by that smile, forgetting about the old guy as he made his way to his dinner date.

  “I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it, Apple Pie.” Miller sat and nodded toward the window. “It’s really coming down out there.”

  Like Payton would miss this date. He would have walked through tunnels of snow to get there. Desperate much? Yes, in this case, Payton was.

  All he wanted to do was find Mr. Right. Who didn’t dream of having that someone special in their life? He liked cuddling and handholding, kisses and petting. But Payton also liked waking up to someone, feeling the weight of a guy pressing against him as the morning sun greeted him.

  He wanted what everyone else wanted, but he wasn’t going to assume this would go anywhere. That was what had happened with his ex-boyfriend, Pyke. Payton had gotten so caught up in the fact that they were dating that he never really stopped to get to know him.

  He would handle things differently this time. His new lease on life demanded it.

  Or at least he would try to. “It was a bit of a struggle driving, but I managed.”

  “I could have picked you up. That would have given me a chance to see Bilbo again.”

  “Who said I won’t invite you over for some more pie afterward?” Payton smiled, but he was all nervous flutters on the inside. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something different about Miller.

  Maybe it was the way Miller looked at him. Really looked at him, as if whatever Payton had to say mattered.

  The waiter came and took their order then brought back their drinks. Payton and Miller talked for what seemed like forever, and Payton couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed so much. He was definitely falling in lust with the guy by the time they finished eating and Miller paid their bill.

  “I could really use that slice of pie,” Miller said close to Payton’s ear as they walked toward the exit. “How about I follow you back to your place just to make sure you get there safely? The streets are even more treacherous than before.”

  That was true. Payton hated driving on snowy streets. He always gripped the steering wheel too tight and drove about ten miles an hour, ignoring the angry blare of the horns behind him.

  When they stepped outside, Payton slipped on a slick spot, and his arms starting flapping like he was trying to take flight. Miller grabbed him around the waist and hauled him to his broad chest.

  “Careful, Apple Pie.” His lips were close to Payton’s ear, making Payton’s breathing low and shallow. “Don’t want you falling and breaking something.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.” Payton spoke in a voice he barely recognized, breathless and gentle, as though he were some damsel who needed rescuing. He’d never spoken like that before. Payton pushed away from Miller and stood, staring at his car, which was covered in freshly fallen snow. “I guess I’ll be a minute.”

  “I got it. Why don’t you get inside and warm up.” Miller went to his truck and pulled out a snowbrush and then proceeded to clear Payton’s car. God, the guy was a keeper on that fact alone.

  Payton sat there waiting for his car to heat as he eyeballed Miller’s backside. Yummy was the only word to describe the flared ass.

  It took thirty minutes to get to Payton’s house, a trip that should have taken five. Thankfully Miller didn’t honk behind Payton because Payton was going as slow as a snail.

  When they arrived, Payton saw his neighbors, the Dretzin family, were having some kind of holiday party. Cars lined the streets, and music could be heard from Payton’s driveway.

  Worse, they had the Christmas music on full blast.

  Across the street, his Goth neighbor, whatever the guy’s name was, stood in his driveway, arguing with some pretty blonde. Hmm. Payton had never noticed Goth with anyone.

  Payton was grateful old Mr. Cantinelli wasn’t out and spying on him in his underwear. The guy might be around ninety, but not even Payton wanted to see Raymond out in the cold.

  He’d freeze his droopy balls off.

  God, why did he have to think about old-man balls?

  “How are those steps holding up?” Miller asked when he joined Payton. He’d had to park his truck down the street, since the Dretzin’s partygoers had taken all available parking by the house.

  “I haven’t had a chance to use them yet.” Payton unlocked his door. He stomped the snow off his feet before entering. “But I’m pretty sure you did a great job, or you wouldn’t be working with Russell.”

  “He is a stickler for impeccable work.” Miller closed the door behind him as Payton searched for the light switch. When he flicked it on, he stood there stunned.

  “Wow,” Miller said. “You work fast. This looks amazing.”

  Payton slowly shook his head, unsure what to think. “But I didn’t do this.”

  He had no idea who had broken in and decorated his home with Christmas items. Even the pictures on the wall had been taken down and covered in wrapping paper, making it look as though he had presents hanging on the walls.

  There was a big, fat Christmas tree in one corner, a long red garl
and draped along his fireplace, and a stocking hanging there. His living room looked like a display room at some department store.

  Sherman? Had he broken in while Payton had dinner and decorated? That seemed unlikely since Sherman was allergic to work.

  “You didn’t do this?” Miller’s dark brows dipped.

  Payton frowned when he got a strong whiff of cinnamon. He hurried to the kitchen, Miller on his heels, and saw his teakettle on the stove.

  On the counter was an ornate teapot, and Payton discovered that was where the smell was coming from.

  “Cinnamon tea.” Miller looked around. “Who on earth breaks into someone’s house and decorates it for them?”

  That was a damn good question, and Payton planned on getting to the bottom of it.

  * * * *

  Miller had no idea what was going on, but he planned on investigating the fact that someone had snuck into his mate’s house and…did something good?

  “Here you are,” Payton said as he brought Miller another slice of apple pie. “Oh, you started the fireplace.”

  “I love that it’s a natural fireplace.” Miller sat as he listened to the sound of crackling wood. He didn’t mind gas fireplaces, but there was just something about a natural burning one that brought home so many memories.

  Memories like the winters he used to spend at his grandfather’s farmhouse. They’d made homemade hot chocolate after shoveling the driveway and would sit in front of the fire as Miller’s grandfather told him stories of his youth.

  A tight ache started in his chest. Miller missed his granddad, missed their special moments, but with the discovery of his mate, he planned on making new ones.

  Especially around the holidays. This was his favorite time of year, and he couldn’t help but be excited that he now had his mate to share this with.

  “I love the smell of burning logs.” Payton sat next to Miller on the couch. “There’s something rustic about it.” He waved his hand at the room. “I have no idea who did all this, and I should be calling the cops, but…” He sighed. “To tell you the truth, I’m not much in the spirit around this time of year.”

  “You don’t like Christmas?” Miller arched a brow. “What’s not to like about it?”

  Payton snorted. “Try having my parents and you’ll change your mind.”

  Interesting. Miller had grown up with loving parents, two people who did nothing but encourage him with any choices he made. He also had a large family, though none of them lived close by. Still, his mom called him every Sunday, and his aunts and cousins were constantly checking up on him.

  “Oh?” Miller slid his arm over the back of the couch. “Why do you say that?”

  The smell of cinnamon still clung to the air, and Miller wouldn’t have minded trying the tea, but since he had no idea who had left it, he’d erred on the side of caution and dumped the contents of the teapot into the sink.

  “My mom and dad make a competition out of arguing.” Payton sipped his hot chocolate as Miller traced his thumb over his mate’s shoulder. “They’ve made every holiday miserable, including my birthday. One year, when I was about ten, they argued over where to take me for my birthday. I thought for sure my mom was going to shoot my dad that day.”

  Miller hated to hear about his mate’s unhappy childhood. He knew not everyone was as lucky as he was when it came to parents. “So where did you end up going?”

  “The emergency room. My mom threw a vase at my dad and sliced his arm. He ended up with twenty stitches and a migraine. I ended up celebrating the day in the backyard with a squirrel that wandered into the yard.”

  “That’s horrible.” Miller hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but the words had just slipped out.

  “That was one of my better birthdays.” Payton leaned forward and set his cup on the coffee table. When he leaned back, he tucked his feet under him. “Now, it’s time to change the subject.”

  Miller reached for the remote. “Let’s find a Christmas movie to watch.”

  “I’ll pass,” Payton said. “My dad is addicted to those movies, and they don’t bring me fond memories.”

  “Then we create new ones.” Miller turned the television on. “The best way to erase bad memories is to view them in a whole new light. You don’t like them because of your dad, so now when you watch one, you’ll think of me instead.”

  His jaguar wanted to purr when Payton leaned into him, burrowing into Miller’s side. His mate fit perfectly, as if he were made for Miller. Which Payton had been, according to fate.

  Whatever was on the television, Miller wasn’t paying any attention. He’d leaned into Payton, ready to get another kiss from his mate, when someone beat on the front door.

  Payton jerked forward, as if he and Miller had been doing something wrong. “Who on earth is that?”

  Miller started to get up to see who was banging on the door like they were the cops, but Payton was up and hurrying across the room, leaving Miller’s side cold.

  “Dad?” Payton stepped back, letting in a short, rail-thin guy who wasn’t much taller than Miller’s short mate. They had the same red hair and green eyes, but while Payton’s eyes were kind, this guy’s were filled with anger. “What’re you doing here?”

  “You refused to come home for Christmas,” his dad said as he pushed his way inside.

  Miller bristled, but kept his mouth shut. This was his mate’s father, and Miller wouldn’t gain any brownie points by snarling at the guy.

  “So you showed up to what, convince me or guilt me into doing what you want?” Payton closed the door and then glared at his father as he crossed his arms.

  “I see your mother went overboard with the decorations.” His dad turned to face Payton. “You shouldn’t make her sneak behind your back to give you the holiday spirit.”

  Payton’s eyes widened. “Mom did this? Why? What does she care if I’m in the mood or not? I don’t appreciate her breaking into my house and doing all this.”

  At least the mystery was solved. Miller was glad he didn’t have to kill anyone for doing such a nice thing.

  “What do you mean why does she care?” his dad blustered. “You know this is her favorite holiday. Would it hurt you to at least fake it to make her happy?”

  Miller felt the tension thickening in the air. He wasn’t sure if he should intervene or keep his ass on the couch. He didn’t like the way Payton’s father was talking to his mate, but so far, he hadn’t disrespected his son.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve done enough faking to last me a lifetime,” Payton argued. “I’m not coming home for Christmas, Dad. And you can tell Mom to stop creeping into my house when I’m not here.”

  Miller felt uneasy as the two argued, their voices rising the longer they debated on where Payton would spend his holiday.

  Tired of the commotion, Miller took his mug to the kitchen, and still the two went on. No, he knew nothing about this kind of discord, because he had never argued with his mom and dad.

  His dad would have taken him to the shed if Miller had even thought about talking smack about his mom.

  Finally he heard the front door slam closed. Payton stormed into the kitchen in a huff.

  “I’m sorry you had to witness that, but now you see what I have to deal with. Ugh! They’re impossible. I just want to be left alone this time of year, and can either of them respect that? No. It’s always about them and what they want.”

  Miller leaned against the counter and crossed his arms as his mate raged on. It would have been nice to be introduced, but Miller kept quiet. He was still stunned at how the two had spoken to each other.

  Payton rubbed his temples. “I understand if you don’t want to see me again. No person in their right mind would want to deal with that kind of family drama. Honestly, it’s downright embarrassing. This is why I never brought any friends home from school. Could you imagine my parents going at each other’s throats even if I had company?”

  Miller wasn’t sure what to say. He’d planned on
seducing his mate, but that didn’t seem as if it would happen. He also wanted to reassure Payton that everything would be okay, but he wasn’t going to promise something when he wasn’t certain himself.

  “Fine, just stand there,” Payton said. “It’s not like this would have worked out anyway. You’re too nice of a guy, and my family is way too dysfunctional. Let yourself out while I dismantle the decorations.”

  Miller had heard enough. He yanked Payton close, curling his arms around his mate. “Don’t you dare turn your anger on me.”

  “But…” Payton looked away, though his hands rested on Miller’s chest. “This is who I am, and you’d end up hating me if this went any further. Trust me, I’ve run off plenty of guys, because whether I like it or not, I’m just like my parents.”

  “I disagree.”

  “You have to be insane to want to stick around.”

  “Call me crazy.” Miller smiled. There was no chance in hell he was walking away, but Miller saw now he had his work cut out for him. That was fine by him. He and Payton had a long life ahead of them, and if it took him two decades or more, he would purge the negativity Payton’s parents had instilled in him.

  “Are you serious?” Payton looked skeptical. “Why on earth would you want to stick around? I’m demanding, bossy, argue a lot, and I can be clingy as hell. My last boyfriend called me toxic. Are you some kind of masochist?”

  Miller ran his fingers along the waistband of Payton’s jeans. It was hard to think when all his jaguar wanted to do was claim what was his. “You just need someone who knows how to handle you.”

  “Buddy, I’ve yet to meet anyone who can tolerate me that long. Not that I’m proud of that fact, but trust me, I’m not worth it.”

  And that saddened Miller to know his mate thought very little of himself. He wanted to track down Payton’s dad and give him a swift kick in the ass for Payton’s low self-esteem. Parents were supposed to be loving and encouraging, but from the short encounter, he knew that hadn’t been the case when it came to his mate’s mom and dad.

  Miller hugged Payton. “I say you are, so challenge accepted.”