Just For Christmas
MMF Bisexual Romance
Copyright © 2019 by Roxanne Riley
All Rights Reserved.
This book is a work of fiction and any portrayal of any person living or dead is completely coincidental and not intentional. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the author, other than brief excerpts for the purpose of reviews or promotion.
Sign up for my newsletter to receive the latest updates, recommended reads, and FREE bonus content, starting with Lucky Ever After, a bonus novelette in the Luck of the Irish series!
Click HERE to sign up!
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Emilie
Chapter Two
Drew
Chapter Three
Emilie
Chapter Four
Joel
Chapter Five
Emilie
Chapter Six
Joel
Chapter Seven
Drew
Chapter Eight
Drew
Chapter Nine
Emilie
One Week Later
Chapter Ten
Drew
Chapter Eleven
Emilie
Chapter Twelve
Emilie
Chapter Thirteen
Joel
Christmas Eve
Chapter Fourteen
Emilie
Epilogue
Emilie
Christmas Morning, One Year Later
Special Inside Look into Just This Once!
Chapter One
Emilie
I hold my breath so that I won’t make a sound. I can’t risk anything waking the tiny beast. I tiptoe carefully backwards, praying that I don’t stumble. My back hits the wall and I press my lips together to stifle the grunt that threatens to escape me.
I freeze for a moment to ensure that the soft thud didn’t stir him, and slide sideways toward the open door. With care, I swing the door shut behind me, pulling it slowly. The click of the latch seems to echo like a gunshot, and I wince, but I don’t hear anything behind the door.
Behind the sound-dampening safety of the door, I let out a sigh of relief. My almost-three-year-old son is soundly asleep and I successfully made it out of his room without waking him. Doesn’t sound like much, but with as light a sleeper as Danny is, it’s a truly Herculean feat.
I reward myself with a nice, full glass of wine and sink into the couch. It doesn’t matter that I’m still in my scrubs, or that the merlot in my glass came from a three-dollar bottle from the grocery store. It still feels downright luxurious just to be able to sit and indulge.
I put one of my favorite cooking shows on Netflix, but while it plays in the background, I end up zoning and scrolling through my phone. Checking my e-mail, I see that my electric company sent me a receipt for this month’s bill. I check it and wince.
It’s been a tough year. I had just moved here about six months ago, after Danny’s dad died, and adapting to life as a single parent hasn’t been easy.
I’d moved here for more job opportunities and cheaper rent, and I got lucky right away on the job front. My job as an ultrasound tech has been keeping us afloat, but even so, it’s been a little bit of a scrape.
And now, with Christmas coming, I’m wondering how I’m going to scrape together enough extra cash to do something special for Danny. He’s finally really old enough to appreciate the holiday, and I want to make it great for him.
It reminds me, I switch over to an app for an online store and tap open my wishlist. I’ve been checking obsessively every day to see if the price drops on the gift I want to get Danny for Christmas, but so far, no luck.
Some optimistic part of me tries to search and see if I can find it for less somewhere else, but just like the last hundred times I’ve searched, there’s nothing, and I feel my spirits dimming. Maybe I need to come up with something else for Danny this year…
A text pops up on my screen that lightens my mood a bit, though. I’d recently befriended a group of girls, and one of them, Lacey, is messaging our group chat to see if we’d all like to get lunch tomorrow.
I shoot back a reply: Is this a girls-only lunch? Do I need a sitter?
Lacey replies: The guys can babysit for a while, you need a break.
I smile to myself, touched. I’d met the group through one of the girls, Audrey, who was actually a patient of mine. I had just immediately liked something about her and her sister, and they’d brought me into their circle, where I’d clicked with everyone else, too.
Lacey, herself, has a one-year-old daughter, Fiona, and her two husbands, Adam and Dante, are the epitome of doting, goofy dads. They’ve met my son a few times, and he absolutely adores them, so he’ll love the opportunity to hang out with them.
Sounds great. Where and when?
After a few texts between the girls, throwing around ideas for places to go, we finally settle on a place and time. While that’s going on, I find myself scrolling through job posting websites, contemplating the possibility of taking on a second job.
Not that there’s anything that looks promising. Minimum wage customer service jobs, daytime jobs that I couldn’t work, and a couple of supposed “work-from-home” opportunities that look scammy as hell. Anything else, I’m completely unqualified for.
Although some of the salaries have me considering a career change.
Even though the idea of an extra paycheck is alluring, I don’t know if I can make that work, either. As it is, I feel like I don’t see enough of Danny. Not to mention the fact that finding some kind of evening childcare for him would probably be enough of an expense that it would eat into most of the extra money I was making.
I let out a sigh of frustration and I’m tempted to toss my phone aside, but I’m stopped when it starts ringing.
“Hello?”
“I just broke down crying over watermelon. Will I ever stop being crazy?”
I laugh. Poor Audrey has been going through some crazy pregnancy mood swings lately, and I can understand the frustration. “Never,” I assure her, “You’ll just be different kinds of crazy at any given moment for the rest of forever. That’s parenthood.”
“Gee, thanks,” she replies drily, “You’re so sweet and reassuring.”
“So, why were you crying about watermelon?” I ask.
“I was craving watermelon, and the guys are the best, they went and got me some, but you know, it’s just not a great time of year for watermelon, so it wasn’t a very good one, and I was just disappointed and…God, I’m ridiculous.”
I clap my hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter.
“I still hear you,” she grumbles.
“Oh, I know, I’m trying not to wake Danny,” I squeak through my giggling.
I swear I can hear her rolling her eyes.
“Would something watermelon flavored make you feel better?” I ask her.
“Eh, most of it’s super fake and too sweet,” she says, sounding pitiful and defeated.
“What about those popsicles that Lacey brought to your place on game night? The ones with the real fruit in them? Maybe one of those would hit the spot.”
“Ooh, I think I still have some of those!” she said excitedly.
“Go check, see if you’ve got a watermelon one,” I encourage her.
“I will, talk to you later!”
She hangs up the phone and I laugh and shake my head. The call had been silly, but it had lightened the dark cloud hovering over me, and I decide to ride the wave. I put my phone down, take a long drink of my wine, and lose myself in watching my cook
ing show.
It’s not a solution to my problems, but it’s not like I can solve it all at nine P.M. on a Friday night anyway, right?
Chapter Two
Drew
It’s the middle of my workday when my mother decides it’s important to call and make sure I’m planning to be attending all of the family gatherings this holiday season. But heaven forbid I remind her that I’m at the office, that would only start a diatribe about how deeply I had hurt them by choosing a different career path from the one they set out for me.
I wasn’t a lawyer, and I wasn’t trapped under Dad’s thumb at the firm, and it made them crazy.
“I don’t know, Mom, I don’t really have the time to go to all of the parties,” I hedge, trying to weasel out of having to spend more time with my family than necessary, “I think I’m only going to be able to make it for the Christmas Eve party.”
“What do you mean you don’t have the time, Andrew?” she complains, “What could you have to do that’s more important than spending time with your family over the holidays?”
The words have the desired effect and I feel a surge of guilt. And also, I realize I just dug myself into a hole. If I tell her I’m busy with work, I run into that wall and those crocodile tears. But I don’t really have another excuse, because she doesn’t know about…
“And what about Joel? He’s coming along, too, yes?”
The words might technically be a question, but clearly there’s only one answer she’ll accept. I sigh. “I’ll have to see what Joel has planned for the holidays,” I lie.
My mother “tsks” at me, and I grit my teeth as she speaks. “What could either of you boys have to do that would keep you from family?”
It’s not about family, I think, but I don’t dare say that aloud. The various dinner parties my family hosts throughout the holiday season are more about schmoozing Dad’s business partners and clients, and they want all of us there to make things picture-perfect and give off the impression that we’re just a happy, sunshiny family.
It’s all just more of a reminder of why I can’t tell her the truth.
Joel has been my best friend since we were in high school together, but what my family doesn’t know is that when we were nineteen, the two of us realized that we were in love.
We’d been together, in secret, ever since.
Neither one of us thinks for one second that my parents could handle the thought of their only son being in a homosexual relationship. That’s the kind of thing that dirties up the squeaky clean image they treasure so dearly.
I must have been silent for too long, because suddenly my mother continues, “After all, it’s not like either of you are dating anyone.”
My idiot mouth runs away from me, without any input from my brain, and my heart drops to the pit of my stomach as the words “I am!” tumble from my mouth.
“WHAT?!” my mother shrieks, and the regret and horror flooding my brain is making me panic.
“It’s fairly new, Mom, ok? It’s not a big deal,” I lie immediately, digging the hole even deeper.
“Well, you’ll be bringing her to the holidays then!” my mother says matter-of-factly.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, what have I gotten myself into?
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mom,” I protest, “We’re not really at the “meeting families” stage yet.”
“Nonsense,” my mother scoffs, “If it’s serious enough that you’d mention her to me, she’s serious enough to bring home to meet us.”
She doesn’t exist! I want to scream, I’m with a man, and he’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me!
Not that I’m not into women. Joel and I both are, and before we’d gotten together, we’d both had a couple of girlfriends and a number of…less serious flings. But it’s never been about labels, about how we identify, it’s just simply been a matter of fact that we love each other, and it doesn’t matter that we’re both men. I love Joel as a human being.
But I just can’t picture my parents wrapping their heads around that, let alone accepting it. My older sister Andrea is the only family member who knows, and Andi supports me and does her best to defend me while safeguarding my secret.
“I’ll ask her,” I grit out, “But I’m not going to force her to come,” I warn, convincing myself that I’ll just make up some excuse and then claim that we broke up.
“You’ll convince her,” my mother insists.
“I’ll do what I can,” I feel my jaw pop and I force myself to relax the clenched muscles a little.
“I’ll be saving places for you, Joel, and your new girlfriend, we’ll see you on Thursday night,” my mother chirps, then hangs up.
I groan and rub the bridge of my nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping up. I press my speed dial for Joel and wait.
“Hey, babe, you ok?”
“My mother called.”
“Oof,” Joel sighs, “What happened?”
I explain, and Joel is incredulous. “Why would you tell her you had a girlfriend?”
“I don’t know!” I exclaim, “I just blurted it out. I mean, I didn’t say that, I said I was dating someone, which is true.”
“Pfft,” he snorts, “Yeah, but we’re not fucking telling them that.”
“I know!” I groan, “What am I going to do?”
“What are we going to do?” he corrects me, making me smile.
“Thanks, babe,” I say, softening a little.
“We’ll talk about it when you get home, ok? We’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get Andi in on it, see if she has any ideas.”
Yet another reason to love him: He adores my favorite family member. And hell, I think she likes him better than she likes me sometimes.
“Sounds good. Maybe we can call her when I get home.”
“I’ll call her right now.”
“Let me know how many languages she cusses in,” I reply with a laugh.
“I’m gonna bet three.”
“I say at least four.”
“You’re on.”
“Love you.”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “Love you, too. Now get back to work, slacker,” he teases.
We hang up and I feel the knot of worry in my chest loosen a little. I still have no fucking clue how I’m going to deal with this, but at least I know I’m not alone.
Chapter Three
Emilie
I had never been a “lunch with the girls” kind of girl, but I’d also never had a group of girls like these. Audrey, her twin sister Gwen, their friend-slash-Audrey’s co-worker, Jessie, her sister-in-law, Summer, and I believe that Jessie met Lacey through her brother’s girlfriends, Kate and Max. (Both of whom are also included in our little circle.)
They’re an interesting, interwoven group of women, and most of them are involved in unconventional, yet serious and very happy, relationships. Gwen and I are the only single ones in the group. It’s funny that they were somehow drawn together like this, but I suppose there’s a reason for the old adage about birds of a feather.
And I’ll be honest, the idea of multiple guys has piqued my curiosity a little, too. The only man I’d ever slept with had been Danny’s father, and Paul and I had never exactly been passionate. I mean, we’d had enough of a spark to make Danny, but…
Paul and I had been together about a year when I got pregnant. I wasn’t madly in love, but he was sweet, and we had fun together. And when I’d shown him that positive pregnancy test, he’d proposed on the spot.
It was the right thing to do, he said.
Don’t get me wrong, Paul and I were never unhappy. He was a good man, and he was a wonderful dad. I loved him, and he loved me, but he and I both knew we weren’t soulmates. There was always comfortable companionship, but there was never a spark.
So to think that they can share the kind of fire that they do with more than one person? I can’t even imagine it.
But I’ll admit, it makes me envy them.
“You ok, Em?” Lacey asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.
“Hmm?” I look up, “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”
“What’s on your mind?” she asks, clearly not buying the lie for a second.
I swallow hard, letting my gaze fall back down to the cup. “It’s just been a tough year,” I admit, “So I wanted to do something really special for Danny. He keeps seeing commercials for those electric cars, and you guys know how much he loves Jeeps…”
All of my friends nod. My son is a little bit of a car nut, and the classic off-roading vehicle is his favorite. His dad and I had filled his room with dozens of toys in all different colors and sizes, posters on his walls, t-shirts, anything we could find with a picture of the iconic automobile. Where the obsession started, I have no idea. Paul and I had just steered into it, though. And since my friends have met Danny, too, they’re all well acquainted with his passion.
“He would love that,” Kate says with a smile.
“Yeah, but…” I rub my fingers against my thumb in a “broke” gesture.
Jessie makes a sympathetic face. “We could help you with that,” she offers, but I shake my head.
“I can’t ask you guys to fund my son’s Christmas. It would be one thing if it were for necessities, but this is just something I really want to do for him, you know?”
They all nod agreement and I continue, “I even started looking at second jobs, but I don’t even know if that’s an option.”
“What about something like driving for one of those ride-share things like Uber?” Max suggests.
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” I muse.
“I don’t know, I don’t like the idea of you driving people around alone at night,” Lacey says worriedly, “You hear all those horror stories…”
“What about the delivery ones?” Gwen offers, “The ones that drop off food or groceries?”
Just For Christmas (Just Us Series Book 5) Page 1
