His mother gasped and Stephanie’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What the hell, Seb?”
He turned first to Stephanie, then his mother, and finally back to Matty. “I was going to talk to my family about it when I first got here. But I started helping in the shop and with the girls and then… you and I….”
“So when are you going?” Each word was spit out like individual projectiles from a nail gun.
Seb blanched. He’d never been on the other end of such anger from anyone and it left him paralyzed. Matty’s face was a furious mask, voice discordant and gruff. “You don’t get to do this…. You don’t show up and make me think—” He looked away and his Adam’s apple moved up and down as Matty swallowed repeatedly. “You don’t get to make me to fall in love with you only to disappear.”
All rational thought fled as Seb’s heart wrenched so hard he feared it would leap out of his throat. His tongue felt twice its size and was going to choke him. Matty’s words hit like a sucker punch to the gut, and the heartbreak of a seventeen-year-old burst out of him. Because who the hell was Matthew Starr to talk about making someone fall in love and then leaving them flat? “Why? Only you get to do that? Make me fall for you ten years ago and then walk away with the next boy that smiled at you?”
“I didn’t—”
“Like hell you didn’t! I thought I’d die that Christmas with you gone. It was the longest break of my life. And then after Christmas break you were all cozy with that football jock.”
“We weren’t like that then. I didn’t… I thought you understood.” The blaze glinted behind Matty’s eyes again and he spit out his words with labored intensity. “Fine. Maybe I was a little shit back then. But I’ve been straight with you since you showed up. I thought… well, it doesn’t matter because I was wrong.”
Matty bolted out of the room and Seb stared blindly at the space he’d occupied, the air vibrating with the outline of his absence. He picked up the Premier Planning letter from the floor, working the creases out with his fingertips until the letters started to smudge. The vroom of a car engine propelled him out of his stupor and into jagged action. He threw the front door open and frigid air burned his cheeks as Matty’s blue Jeep pulled out of the driveway and turned onto the quiet street.
Stephanie called from behind him, “Nice going.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sebastian
IT had been a disaster if Seb was being kind to himself. A clusterfuck if he was being honest. How had this happened? He’d planned on bringing up the job offer as soon as he’d arrived in Fir Falls. Not to ask his family’s approval, but certainly to take a measure of their opinion. He’d already decided it was a not-to-be-missed opportunity. Lacey had been supportive, although she had insisted that he go home to his family that Christmas, saying unequivocally that he couldn’t move 3,500 miles away—across an ocean—without seeing them first.
And then he’d opened his mother’s door for the first time in five years and seen Matthew Starr, of all the people in the world, laughing uproariously while dancing like a clown with his nieces and the ground became quicksand beneath his feet.
He’d explained to his mother and Stephanie on the spot Christmas Day that he’d turned down the offer, but all attempts to reach Matty after that were futile. And the truth was, Seb wanted them to talk about this in person. Find out if Matty meant what he’d said about falling for Seb.
By the time Wednesday rolled around with things still awkward, Stephanie was torn between loyalty to her brother and her best friend. At Matty’s continued avoidance, Steph had said, “Give him time. He’s never been in this situation. Between his icy mother and distant father, the man is clueless.”
“What situation?” he’d asked.
“In love, you idiot.” She’d left Seb that morning with an epic eye roll.
THE morning of the charity auction and dance, his mother watched him with that expression that implied she saw inside Seb as if he were translucent, with no more permanence than the ice sculptures he loved, and just as likely to dissolve at any moment. They sat together in the Chesnut dining room and perused the menu that Seb had finalized with the emergency caterer. She nodded her approval and squeezed his arm.
He smiled wanly, glad that his contributions were appreciated. She placed her hand over his on the table. “Have you been able to talk to Matthew?”
“No, he texted that he was too busy with the gala and that we’d talk there.” The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Mom, I think I blew it. Again,” he said through gnashed teeth. He lowered his head, too raw to meet her eyes. “When we were kids… he’s all I….” Raising glittering eyes toward her he rasped out, “Did you know then?”
“No, honey, not everything. Not how you felt. But Stephanie told me she did.” His mom caressed his arm again.
“It’s not just Matty. I don’t want to miss out any more on Chance and Row. You, Steph… I didn’t stop long enough to realize what I was giving up. And I don’t want to do that anymore, live like that.”
His mom blinked back a tear. “If I’ve learned anything it’s that life can be short. Matt isn’t mad, honey, even if he thinks he is. He’s scared because something happened between you two that he wasn’t expecting, and processing that isn’t easy for him. But tonight isn’t only about saying goodbye to the old year. It’s also about grabbing on to next year.” She smiled at him. “Matthew’s always had trouble paying attention. And you’ve always been a quiet soul.” Her eyes twinkled. “Honey, I think it’s time to get loud.”
Matthew
MATT knew Steph wanted to talk to him, had wanted to do so since the day they returned. But he hid in his studio all week claiming he had to finish the sculpture for the auction. That wasn’t a lie; there was always one more little tweak. And it was a very convenient reason to avoid the Chesnut house.
Avoiding Baz hadn’t been easy but he had to prioritize himself. He hadn’t been snooping when he’d found the job offer letter as he’d rummaged for toothpaste in Baz’s toiletry case. Maybe it had been invasive to read it. And he did feel a measure of remorse. But ultimately it was unpardonable that Baz hadn’t mentioned the job offer up front. They weren’t kids fooling around any longer.
Why? Only you get to do that? Make me fall for you ten years ago and then walk away with the next boy that smiled at you?
Maybe it hadn’t been fair that he’d not given Baz time to explain, but then again, what was there to say? Even if Baz wasn’t moving to London, as Steph insisted, he’d still be heading back to New York City and a life that didn’t include Fir Falls. They were on wildly different pages. He’d call it karma except he didn’t truly believe Baz’s assertion. Nobody was in love at seventeen. It didn’t work that way. Not that Matt was any sort of expert on romantic love. He’d never felt this intensity of feelings until these past few weeks with Baz. And now, frankly, he couldn’t wait to fall the hell out of love and never think about it again. It was not worth the trouble.
Cameron had helped Matt haul the sculpture to the Elk Lodge in Cam’s truck. It weighed about 140 pounds so he was grateful for the help. He was pleased to find Franklin Tate, Mayor Vazquez, and Winifred Gray all helping with various bits of last-minute preparation.
The caterers had set up tall round tables that would allow folks to gather with their drinks and food. Long buffet tables flanked the walls on each side. As the caterers set out candles and silver snowflake centerpieces, Matt could acknowledge the contribution Baz had made. The hall had an elegance that had never been there before.
The tickets for the dance raised almost ten thousand dollars for Holiday Helpers, but the silent auction really brought in the larger donations. Bids were entered on small folded sheets that were put into boxes by the offerings. The winners would be announced right after midnight. This was the first year Steph had arranged online bidding as well, and there were bidding wars on a couple of the items already. There were even bids on his sculpture even though it did not have a picture online�
��it hadn’t been ready to be photographed, and besides, Matt didn’t want anyone to see it before the unveiling. Matt couldn’t wait to see Stephanie and Cheryl’s faces when they saw it.
“Okay to leave it here? We’ll unveil later, right?” Matt startled at Cam’s quiet question. The man had a soothing, night-radio-announcer voice.
“Yes. Sure.” He sized up Cam’s uncharacteristic fidgeting. Intuition hit. “You got someone to meet?”
Cam’s eyes softened, giving him a younger appearance. Breaking into a lopsided grin, he said, “Maybe.”
Smiling back, Matt waved him off. “Go on, it’s all under control.” He looked around at Baz’s catering crew. “We’ll unveil the donations during the six o’clock cocktail hour.” Cam raised one brow and Matt chuckled. “Yeah. B—Sebastian’s idea.” His smile faded. “It’s going to be a mite fancier than pigs in a blanket and chicken skewers this year. Something about duck liver pâté.” Cam’s green expression was priceless. “Thanks for all your help.”
Cam raced off, presumably to go see a boy. Matt was happy for him and Jackson and refused to let his personal heartache dampen his spirits any more.
As far as he knew, Seb was due back in New York January 2nd. They’d never discussed it with precision, but the end was in sight and Matt believed in pulling off a bandage quick. Came from experience, his mother wasn’t one to coddle, no matter the size of the cut.
LATER that evening, Matt dressed for the dance in a fitted Hugo Boss suit that Stephanie had helped him purchase several months ago. It was a deep brown, which Stephanie said was a perfect match for his hair. She’d picked a cream shirt and gold and brown spotted tie that supposedly made his eyes glow. An unabashed clotheshorse, she’d been delighted to get to dress him up like a Ken doll. If it were up to him, he would have worn his favorite RISD hoodie, but saying that had earned him the eye roll of the century. Now he was glad he had something classy for the swanky ambiance of this year’s gala. He arrived early and had to blink at the transformation of the stodgy Elk Lodge. Besides the tulle that Cheryl had reused from the previous year, there was a gauzy silver organza-like material threaded through the ceiling rafters that caused the fairy lights to look like a galaxy had fallen from the heavens to hover above them. He wished that Chance and Rowen could see this…. He could imagine how they would gasp delightedly at a real fairyland.
It was a bitter cold New Year’s Eve, with the forecast saying there was a possibility of more snow. The tall windows were fogged at the edges. He glanced out and saw the outlines of the towering oak trees that lined the block surrounding the lodge. On the other side was the parking lot, fuller than ever this evening and able to accommodate all the expected guests due to the valet service they’d contracted.
For the first year ever, all the tickets had been sold. Baz had suggested he could help them find a larger venue for the next year. Matt’s lips twisted at the memory. Right. Perhaps they could rent out Piccadilly Square.
Spotting Cheryl and Stephanie, Matt figured it was a good time to have them see his artwork. It was the only auction item still shrouded.
“Ma, Steph, I want you to see this first.” Matt saw Steph look around briefly but he pointedly didn’t check to see if Baz had arrived yet. He guided them to the roped-off area, stepped over the barrier, and grasped the soft cream drop cloth near the top. With a firm tug he uncovered the figure.
“Oh!” Cheryl and Steph gasped in unison, and the few other people standing nearby turned to stare at their exclamation.
Matt wriggled with pride. “You like it?”
His stalwart best friend’s eyes were shimmering and if Ma’s smile got any brighter, they could turn off the lodge’s lighting altogether. “Matt….” Steph choked. “That’s us.”
He nodded, his own emotions peaking at the way she was overcome. “Of course, I didn’t know that this year Ryan would—well, I didn’t know when I conceived it. But you and the girls, it’s how I see you in my mind’s eye. Baby Row in your arms. Chance awed at being a big sister.”
She threw her arms around him and held him tight. “It’s beautiful. You are incredible.” He flushed but embraced her back with all the love in his heart. Cheryl was next, squeezing him till his ribs ached. “We love you, Matthew.”
“Love you too.”
Delighted, he reluctantly pulled away from Ma’s hug, saying he wanted to check out the other offerings before it got crowded. Most of the people wandering around were connected with the setup; the first ticket holders were just arriving. Matt saw Jackson and walked over to say hello. Jackson’s blue hair shimmered like a frozen river in the fairy lights. He wore a navy jacket over a black button-down shirt and gray trousers, and instead of a tie he sported a silver double-rowed collar chain, with crystal fasteners. Biting his lip, Matt wondered what Cam would make of that. He didn’t have to wait long because Cam was striding toward them from the other side of the room, where he’d been helping place a series of artwork on easels.
His suit was also navy, and while classic, it was several seasons old. A new white shirt gleamed beneath. It was open and he wore no tie. Admittedly it was startling to see Cam out of his ever-present Levi’s and plaid shirt. Jackson’s pupils widened as if one of the statues gracing the back wall had sprung to life.
Matt bit back the down boy that was poised on his lips and instead offered Cam his own once-over just to the see the man blush. Jackson and Cam closed the distance between them and gazed at each other so long that Matt felt like the proverbial third wheel. Remembering his manners, Jackson nodded to Cam before turning back to Matt and pointing to his sculpture. “Whoa. That turned out stunning.”
It felt good when a fellow artist offered such heartfelt praise. “Thanks.” He ducked his head and then remembered: “Did you bring yours?” Matt hadn’t seen the finished painting.
Cam replied with smiling eyes, “I displayed it on the other side.”
Without further words they all walked toward Jackson’s contribution.
Matt studied it critically, recalling the nerves he had when any of his instructors viewed his final pieces. After a moment his face lit in a bright, full-toothed smile. “That baby’s going to bring on a bidding war.”
Jackson’s eyes grew like saucers. “Really?” He looked down and then back up. “You think it’s good?”
Matt studied the oil painting of Fir Fall’s Town Square, Christmas tree soaring in the background and the wooden hexagon gazebo decked out in holly and long boughs of pine. Jackson had played with texture until Matt felt like he could smell the woodsy balsam. In the front the choir was singing, their faces lit from above with a heavenly glow. Facing them were the backs of the townspeople. It took a moment before he spotted two tall figures with small children upon their backs.
Given the painting’s perspective, the crowd was vague, just suggestions of people—but Matt knew immediately who those two were supposed to be. His throat closed up and he squeezed his eyes shut to contain the prickle of moisture that threatened. Moved beyond words, while hurting deep in his gut, he reached out to Jackson.
Jackson moved in for a hug. “It’s exquisite,” Matt managed into Jackson’s shoulder. From behind Jackson’s head, Matt could see Cam looking from the painting to the pair of them hugging and Cam’s feet shifted side to side while he crossed his arms over his chest. Something flickered in his eyes so fluidly it was impossible to pinpoint. Longing? Yearning? Jealousy?
Releasing Jackson, Matt placed his hands on Jackson’s shoulders and turned him back toward Cam. “Someone’s waiting for you,” he whispered.
Jackson’s lips twitched upward but he turned his head back and said, “You too.”
When Matt looked behind him, Sebastian Chesnut was approaching. Despite both Jackson and oddly enough, Cam, protesting, he shook his head once and walked away. Maybe he was a coward but he needed some liquid courage before starting that conversation.
Sebastian
UPON entering the gala, Seb was immediately
swept by his mother to Matt’s recently unveiled sculpture. The highlights of this December repeated themselves in a loop as Seb gazed at the ceramic image of Stephanie holding her girls close. Every curve and line and indentation had been put in place by Matty’s clever hands. He hadn’t known it was possible to capture love with clay, but Matty had managed it. Love between the subjects, love of the subjects. Love flowing out of a heart so big it shook Seb to his core, because when he was a teenager, he’d imagined he’d been in love with that boy. But now… now he knew the difference between what he’d allowed to slip away once and what he knew he had to fight for with all he had.
With a silent nudge, Mom pointed out Matty, standing across the room looking at artwork with Jackson and Cameron. Squaring his shoulders, he struck out in their direction. By the time he got there, Matty had walked away. Jackson, standing close to Cam, smiled tentatively at Seb. But then Seb noticed the painting.
He looked at the brushstrokes representing himself and Matty listening to the carolers surrounded by their family. A few lines for Stephanie’s blond curls, a swirl for his mother’s deep green cap. Rowen on his own shoulders, pink pom-pom being the key identifier. Felt the contentment—no, joy—of that moment again.
He kept his lips pressed tightly together until he felt he could speak without the tremor in his voice giving him away. “It’s exquisite.”
Jackson and Cam gave each other a funny look. “That’s what Matt said,” Jackson replied.
Seb’s heart lurched at hearing that. Cam studied Seb like he was sussing out a puzzle. Taking Cam’s hand, Jackson said, “Looks like you both appreciate the same things.”
Taking that to heart, Seb deepened his resolve to be understanding, be honest, and above all, be bold.
He’d have thought being in the same room as Matty would lead to some opportunity to talk to him. But Matty was avoiding Seb as effectively as a superspy evading a villain. Wandering around in search of his elusive quarry, Seb didn’t bother to partake of any of the delicacies he’d arranged. Crossing paths, Mom took pity and handed Seb a glass of wine and a small plate of hors d’oeuvres.
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