by Chris Scully
Carl smiled. “Relationships are tough at the best of times. It’s natural to have concerns and worries. I thought you might have questions….”
“I don’t.” I wanted to dislike the man, but instead I felt an unexpected kinship. After all, we both wanted the best for Perry; we’d both seen him at his lowest.
“Fine, then. I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to go.
Aw, dammit. “What if he’s just lonely? What if he’s only looking for something comfortable and familiar? Doesn’t he need a trial run before he decides if he’s ready for something serious? I mean, he only decided to date again a couple of weeks ago.”
“Joel, you know Perry far better than I do. Trust him. He’ll let you know what he’s ready for. And where he sees you in his life.”
Where he sees me in his life. Is that what tonight was about? What the missing wedding ring and photographs meant? Those weren’t changes someone made overnight, on a whim.
As though I’d summoned him, Perry burst into the kitchen. His face was flushed as though he had too much wine. “How are things in here?”
“Just fine,” I said. “Carl and I were just getting to know each other.”
“Oh. Good.”
“I’ll get out of your hair.” Carl, the coward, slipped out of the kitchen.
Perry tried leaving too, but I managed to snag the back of his sweater. “I want to talk to you.”
He held up a small box. “I, ah, need to give this puzzle to Trisha. Heather left it behind, and I thought she might want to give it a try.”
“In a minute. How does your support group know about me?”
“I, ah, might have mentioned you.”
“Oh?” I backed him up against the counter. Which was definitely a mistake, because being this close reminded me of last night, of Perry rubbing up against my thigh. A lightning bolt of lust sliced through me.
Then the stove timer dinged, and Perry used the distraction to slip under my arm. “Looks like dinner is ready.”
“We’re not done with this,” I warned.
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
THE ROAST was a magnificent feast for the eyes if I did say so myself. Everyone oohed and clapped as I carried the platter to the table. I stumbled slightly as I saw there was one empty place setting at the head.
For me?
“Eat your heart out Martha Stewart,” Perry said as he handed me the carving knife and drew out his phone. “You can do the honors. I’m going to capture this for your website.” I was conscious of him standing at my side, passing plates along as I carved.
Once everyone was served, Carl cleared his throat and scraped back his chair to stand. “I’d like to make a quick toast if I might. For some of us, this is a difficult time, so it’s important to take joy in the small things, in the people who bring us comfort, the people who love us. Perry and Joel, thank you for bringing us together tonight.”
The clink of glasses rang out.
Perry’s eyes met mine across the table, smiling above the rim of his wineglass. The breath whooshed from my lungs as it hit me.
Oh God, Dale, I love him. I love him and I want this to be my life.
I ducked my head before my face revealed too much.
The meal was subdued, but not gloomy. Yes, there were some discreet tears, especially after Carl’s speech, but there was also a surprising amount of laughter.
“This is so good,” Cameron said. “Especially the cauliflower. I never would have thought of roasting it whole like that.”
“Isn’t it?” Perry echoed. “Joel is an amazing chef.”
“Daddy can only make chicken fingers,” Trisha chirped, which made everyone laugh and Cameron blush.
“My Helen used to make sweet potato casserole,” Larry said to me, his eyes swimming with tears. “But I like this rice dish of yours better.”
I accepted the compliments uncomfortably. Normally I wasn’t so humble, but Perry’s friends were laying them on kind of thick.
Carl, seated at my left, peppered me with questions throughout dinner about being a chef. It was polite small talk, but still, I had the feeling that I was being evaluated. For what, I wasn’t sure.
I didn’t taste much of what was on my plate. My emotions were too raw and jumbled. I barely noticed when it was time for dessert and coffee.
Perry and I cleared the table, and I brought out the bread pudding.
“Joel, Cassie left some chocolates. They’re in the kitchen in the silver box—would you bring them out too?”
My heart skipped. “Cassie gave those to you?” Not his secret Santa?
“Yes. Why are you grinning like that?”
“It’s nothing.”
All in all for an impromptu Christmas, it was a pleasant evening. I was the outsider at the table, and yet I’d never felt so welcomed. After the meal, Lynda and Larry volunteered to help clean up and wouldn’t take no for an answer, so after packaging up the leftovers for those who would take them, I was forced back out to socialize with the rest of the group. I sat in a corner, helping Trisha with her puzzle and hoping to go unnoticed, but Perry came and perched on the arm of my chair. He handed me another glass of wine.
“Are you trying to get me liquored up?” I asked beneath my breath.
Perry waggled his eyebrows. “Is it working? I want to hear more about how you’ve always been attracted to me.”
I choked on my wine, and Perry had the nerve to laugh.
THE PARTY broke up early. Carl was the last to leave, and as he departed, he pulled me in for a hug. “I’m so glad Perry has you,” he said softly, for my ears only. “It gives me hope for my own future.”
His words made my breath catch, because Perry did have me, for as long as he wanted.
Perry walked him out, and when he returned a few minutes later, I was still frozen in the same spot. “What exactly did you tell your group about me?”
“We talk about a lot of things.”
“Like?”
He shrugged.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“You’re a smart guy. I’m sure you can figure it out.”
Perry found the open bottle of Pinot and topped off our glasses to finish it off. I hesitated, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to drive home if I drank any more. And I really should have gone home.
“I’ve made up the guest room. You can stay the night,” Perry said as if he knew what I was thinking.
My overeager cock began to fill. “Or I can take a cab and come back for the bike in the morning.”
“It’s your choice. But there’s a lock on the bedroom door in case you’re worried I’ll take advantage of you.”
I wanted him to take advantage of me. That was the problem.
“But if you stay,” Perry cajoled, “I’ll cook you breakfast in the morning.”
“You?”
“Yes, me. I happen to have had an excellent teacher. Even if he does relegate me to prep cook.”
His defensive tone made me smile. “I don’t think anyone’s ever cooked for me. I mean not since I was a kid.”
“Then I’d definitely like to. Tonight was nice, wasn’t it? I think Dale would have enjoyed it.”
I’d bagged up the beef bones earlier for soup, and now I put the roasting pan in the sink to soak. “Yes, he would have.”
“Does it bother you when I talk about him?”
I shook my head. “Of course not. He’s your husband. He was my friend too.”
Perry moved behind me. His hands landed first on my hips, and then his arms wrapped around my chest. He raised up and kissed the spot just below my ear, and I closed my eyes, wanting to lean back into him, to trust that Perry knew what he was doing even if I didn’t.
“In the beginning, when I first realized I had feelings for you, that was hard for me—knowing that you’d been friends. It took me a while to get past that,” he said softly. “Now I don’t think he’d mind.”
Perry had had feelings for me? Since
when? “You don’t feel guilty?”
“No, do you?”
“Yes,” I choked. “It’s like I’m sneaking around behind my friend’s back.”
“Oh, Joel. When Dale got sick, we talked about this—not about you specifically—but about me finding someone. Of course I didn’t want to think about it at the time, but he told me it would happen one day. And then it did.” Perry stepped back, and I missed him instantly. “I’ve got something for you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I didn’t give you your Christmas present yet. Wait here.” He disappeared for a minute, then reappeared with a small flower pot containing a spiky cactus-looking thing.
I stared at it doubtfully as he handed it to me. “What’s this?”
“It’s your new house plant. It’s an aloe, and it hardly needs any care at all. Water once a week. I thought we’d start you off with something easy. Baby steps.”
I love you. “But I didn’t get you anything.”
“Yes, you did. You gave me last night. And tonight. Can we take the bike out again?”
“How about tomorrow? When I’m sober.”
Perry took our wineglasses and steered me into the living room where the lights had been dimmed and the fire was burning low in the fireplace. My lips twitched into a smile. “You do know how to set the scene, don’t you?”
He sat down on the sofa, curling both legs up, and I took the spot beside him. “We worked hard. We deserve to relax.”
“Mmm hmm. I couldn’t help notice that all your photos are gone.”
“It was time. Some of them I put away, the rest I moved to other parts of the house.”
“Why?”
“I saw you looking at them last night. They upset you.”
“You didn’t need to do that. This is your house. You shouldn’t have to erase him.”
“I’m not erasing him. I’m just making room for something new.”
“And your wedding band?”
“Are you only noticing that now? It’s been gone for a month or so. Since your Thanksgiving brunch where we watched the parade and got tipsy on mimosas.” He searched my face. “I thought we left things in a good place last night. Was I wrong?”
“Perry, I think it’s great that you’re getting your life back, and I don’t want to put added pressure on you. But if you’re looking for a practice lover, or a bed warmer, I’m not it. I know I have a reputation for no-strings sex, but I can’t do that—not with you.”
“Why would you think this is only about sex? Have I given you any indication that’s what I’m after? I mean, aside from last night when I practically mauled you—I really couldn’t help myself.”
“I don’t know what you want then.”
“I thought that was obvious. I want you.”
I blinked. “Why?”
“I don’t understand the question. Why would I want you?”
“I’m not anything like Dale. I can’t possibly compete—”
“Joel, I’m not asking you to compete. I was lucky enough to have a wonderful, loving relationship with Dale, and yes, I’d like to have that again, but I’m not looking for a replacement. It’s not like I’ve just met you. I know exactly who you are. You’re not Dale—I don’t want you to be. You’re an amazing man in your own right. You’re kind and generous, and you’re so passionate about everything you do.” He set our glasses on the table and took my hands. “For the longest time after Dale died, everything seemed gray to me: colorless, lifeless, tasteless. And then you were there. I mean you were always there, but suddenly I saw you. It was like you brought the color back into my life—and I don’t mean only with your wardrobe.”
“Oh.” No one had ever said anything that romantic to me before.
“I can’t pinpoint exactly when things changed for me. It wasn’t a sudden burst of clarity, but more like a slow evolution. I started to see you in a different light, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that. Heck, for the longest time I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.” His smile lit up his face. “I guess Simon was right after all.”
“Simon?”
“He said you just needed a little motivation.”
Damn the meddling old romantic fool. I sucked in a breath as a new thought occurred to me.
“Wait, was Simon your secret Santa?”
Perry shook his head, a guilty smile tugging at his lips.
“But you know who it is?” I prompted.
“Oh yes, I know.”
“Who?” I gasped as his eyebrow lifted. “You? You manufactured this whole thing?”
“Well, clearly not the Robinsons’ daughter having her baby. I’m good, but not that good. Are you angry?”
“I think I’m terrified.” Dale had never had a chance.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked.
“No. I was ready to rip some guy’s head off for sending you cookies.”
Perry burst out laughing. “I knew if that didn’t do it, nothing would. You’re a bit possessive when it comes to food.”
“I think I’m possessive when it comes to you.” A new thought flitted through my head. “What about Josh? Was he in on it?”
“Josh was a happy accident. He’s a sweet young man. And in another couple of years, he might even make a great partner for someone. But not me.”
“Was it the paleo, or the CrossFit that turned you off?”
“Neither, actually. It was the fact that he had no idea who Stevie Nicks is. I couldn’t believe it.”
“How horrible.” We laughed.
“You have terrible taste in men,” Perry said as he leaned against me and snuggled into my arms.
“At my age, I have to take what I can get. Oh shit, I didn’t mean you.”
“Well, of course not.”
I thought back over the last couple of weeks. “I don’t get it—why go to such lengths? Why now? Why not just tell me—?”
“Tell you I wanted to date you? I tried that. But if I waited for you to make the first move, I could have been waiting forever. I don’t know if you know this, but outside of the kitchen, you’re not much of a go-getter. Besides, you would have just made up some excuse why you weren’t good enough.”
It galled me to admit that Perry was probably right. It wasn’t until I thought I was losing him that I finally understood how important he was. “You think you know me that well, do you?”
He nodded. “I’d like to. It was the only way I could think of to see if you were interested without ruining our friendship. It was kind of nice, though,” Perry mused. “Being chased by Josh.”
“God, Perry, you have no idea how many guys would chase you if you gave them half a chance.”
“Not the one I wanted. So I was forced to do a little pursuing of my own.” He leaned in slowly, giving me time to pull away if I wanted to. But I didn’t. I was tired of pretending I didn’t want this.
Perry’s lips slid over mine; slowly, tentatively, not at all like last night. It was some moments before I understood he was waiting for me to make the next move. Emboldened, I teased the seam of his lips with my tongue, driving into his mouth when they finally parted. He tasted like crisp Pinot. I gripped the back of his neck and pushed deeper.
I was conscious of Perry’s hand beneath my shirt, stroking my chest, my stomach, then at my waist, working my belt loose. I groaned into his mouth as fingers found my zipper and slipped inside the opening. The heat of his palm through my briefs felt like heaven. My swollen cock jerked at his touch.
“Merry Christmas to me,” Perry murmured in appreciation. He fumbled through the front placket, and just as his hand closed about my shaft, I grabbed his wrist to stop him.
“Wait, I can’t do this.”
“Are you sure about that?” Perry squeezed me. “Because it doesn’t feel that way to me.”
I gasped and choked back a laugh. “No, I mean I can’t do this… here. Not yet. I’m sorry.”
His breath washed across my lips as he leaned his forehead again
st mine. “All right, I respect that. This is a big change for you. For us.” He tucked me gently back in my pants. “We’ll take this slow.”
“Baby steps, remember.” I stroked the side of his neck and felt him shiver. “Actually, I’m kind of looking forward to it, learning all your secrets, all the spots that make you crazy.”
Perry’s eyes blazed. “Not too slow,” he growled.
I was enjoying having the upper hand for once. Lord knew I probably wouldn’t have it much in the future. I handed Perry his wineglass and then took mine. “To our first real Christmas together.”
His answering smile lit up the night. “To something new.”
CHRIS SCULLY lives in Toronto, Canada. She grew up spinning romantic stories in her head and always dreamed of one day being a writer even though life had other plans. Her characters have accompanied her through career turns as a librarian and an IT professional, until finally, to escape the tedium of a corporate day job, she took a chance and began putting her daydreams down on paper in her spare time.
She is an avid reader and tries to bring pieces of other genres and styles to her stories. While her head is crammed full of all the things she’d like to try writing, her focus is always on the characters first, and the happy endings they deserve. She describes her characters as authentic, ordinary people, faults and all—the kind of guy you might meet on the street or the one who might be your best friend. She currently divides her time between a mundane 9-5 cubicle job and a much more interesting fantasy life.
Although keeping up with social media is sometimes a challenge, she does her best and loves to hear from readers.
Find Chris at:
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: www.facebook.com/chris.scully.author
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/6152322.Chris_Scully
Blog: chrisscullyblog.wordpress.com
By Chris Scully
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Happy
Inseparable • When Adam Kissed Me
The Mature Man’s Guide to Surviving Change
Nights Like These
Rebound
