Lights, Camera, Christmas!

by J. D. Light

  Copyright © 2019 J.D. Light

  Edited by Ann Attwood Editing and Proofreading Services

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter One

  I was a mess. I knew it. My sister knew it… and made fun of me about it. The customers knew it, especially Martha, Pastor Kenny's wife, since she was still in the bathroom picking ice cubes out of her bra from where I tried to hand her her iced coffee and basically punched her directly in the double Fs, because I was trying to see around the long-ass line to the giant window that showed the street.

  It had started as excitement and quickly turned into obsession, checking the damn street every minute or so to see if I could see anyone I recognized from the sugar-sweet, made-for-TV Christmas movies I basically obsessed over every year from the beginning of November until the middle of January.

  Especially Blake Sunday. I would give up the alcohol and cussing if I could just get a glimpse of Blake Sunday. At least, that's what I told Jesus this morning during my breakfast prayer, but I was pretty sure he knew I was full of shit, so I really didn't feel like I should be held responsible if I didn't keep my promise. He knew how I was. We had an understanding.

  I hadn't believed the rumor at first, thinking all the hilarious assholes in this town who knew of my Christmas movie obsession––people like my sister, my cousins… and my grandma––and liked to tease me about it, had made it all up just to see me lose my mind, just so they could rip it away from me and crush my spirit, but the mayor had confirmed it about three months ago, and I had actually started happy crying in the middle of the town meeting. It was true. They were actually filming a Christmas movie here in Hidden Springs, set to air next Christmas.

  We'd finally gotten a lull in customers, and Emma had pretty-much banned me from anything that involved liquid, so I decided it was probably time to rearrange the dessert case. I opened the sliding plastic door, reaching in to empty a couple of trays on to others, happily surprised to see that the peppermint pretzel bites were pretty-much gone. I lifted the first tray easily enough, but the second tray got wedged on the slide, and I couldn't seem to free it with one hand. The resulting tug o' war probably would have ended horribly if my sister hadn’t yelled, “freeze,” which was accompanied by the sound of the sleigh bells ringing on the door.

  "Back away from the case before you end up at the bottom of a dessert avalanche," she said through gritted teeth. "I swear, boy. You done lost it today."

  I sighed, straightening to face her, my mouth opening to say… many rude things, and to remind her that we both grew up in the same fucking house, and neither of our parents threw done in the middle of a sentence like a fucking hillbilly, when a throat cleared on the other side of the counter.

  Right, we have a customer.

  I turned to face the man with a fake smile on my mouth, while my eyes were still focused on my sister, promising a scolding for a later date, so it took me a moment to realize my life had changed forever. "Hi, how can I…" I swallowed hard, and I felt a breeze on my optic nerve.

  Well, shoot. There goes my weekend plans to drink a gallon of eggnog and masturbate to the sound of Blake Sunday, learning the true meaning of Christmas. Also, Blake Sunday was somehow even hotter in person. Like, I'd totally shoulder the elderly out of the way for the opportunity that had been laid before me… which might be why I froze up like an idiot.

  "Hi." His smile was absolutely earth destroying. I could practically feel it breaking apart beneath my feet. He shrugged one shoulder. "I was annoying everyone and got sent on a coffee run. Is there any chance you have lattes?"

  "Uh… I…" I think there might have been air in the line. Someone––not naming any names, but the Almighty had some 'splainin' to do––forgot to bleed the brakes when it came to my brains and that moment. "You want… a big one?"

  I indicated the cups with two hands like I'd never used my arms before in my life and continued blinking at the man like I was trying to stir up a breeze with the sheer power of my eyelashes.

  Logan smacked me on the back like I was one of those faulty old televisions while stepping up beside me. "He didn't ask about your dick size, Deck."

  "What?" My head snapped around to my mouthy cousin, wondering why the hell he was talking about di… penises, but he was looking down in front of me… where my two stupid hands were bracketing my junk like I was offering it up on a damn game show. "Oh!"

  I slid over the foot and a half it took to put me in front of the cups where I thought I'd been before, hopefully going back to looking awkward and weird instead of like a lady of the night and body-checked my sister, who sighed and stepped around me to easily slide the tray I'd been wrestling back into the case and then out.

  "We definitely have lattes, Mr. Sunday," Logan said, easing me out of the way much more gently than I had my sister. "What do you need?"

  "Oh, you know my name?" the man asked in surprise, his eyes still lingering on me as I stepped back, probably worried I was having a stroke or something.

  I honestly wasn't sure I wasn't. Was I even breathing? Did I die?

  Logan chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at me and shaking his head. "Oh, definitely. It's almost a job requirement here."

  Blake blinked in confusion as he glanced at my cousin before his focus moved back to me. "Uh, okay." He licked his lips and I wanted to be those plush mothers… or maybe I wanted to be his tongue. Oo oo no, I wanted to be his underwear. "And call me Blake, please. I have a feeling I'll be here a lot."

  "Yeah. Underwear," I apparently said out loud, and my sister whacked me on the back of the head to restart me.

  "Fudge!" I yelled, rubbing my throbbing cranium, glaring at her, while Blake cleared his throat and rattled off his order.

  While my sister and Logan handled the hot beverages, I busied myself… Okay, I tried to look busy folding pastry boxes and surreptitiously stealing glances at Blake, while he sat at one of the tables, smiling down at his phone and glancing up every once in a while to catch me. I was being stupidly obvious, and I knew it, but he didn't seem bothered, and I didn't think it would matter if he did. My eyes were doing eye things.

  By the time his order of ten lattes was done, I'd folded exactly twenty-two pastry boxes… that I'd have to find a place to store since we usually didn't fold them until we needed them, and I was pretty sure Mr. Harper wasn't about to order the remainder of the dessert case for him and his poodle Mikey.

  Logan loaded a drink carrier with four to-go lattes, and Emma loaded another, but that left two free-range coffee cups, and even those gorgeously muscled arms of Blake's… that I sadly couldn’t see, because he was wearing a wool coat, weren’t going to be able to finagle that particular load back to the center of town, where they had the movie set put together, without some difficulty and a possible accident.

  "Hey, Deck," Emma said in a sugary-sweet voice that immediately put me on edge, making me bobble my pastry-box tower. "You ain't had a break today. Why don't you help Blake with his drinks?"

  "What?" I glanced over at Blake, eyes wide. "I don't think that's a good idea."

  I didn't quite understand the look of disappointment that crossed his face, but I had to admit it made me feel like a di… penis head.

  Emma put her hands on her hips and batted her eyelashes, and if I wasn't about to have a fudging panic attack, I might have laughed right in her face… or at least from across the room, out of swinging range of her freakishly long arms. "It's the lull between the brunch rush
and lunch rush. It's the perfect time for you to take your break."

  "Maybe," I said through clenched teeth as I smiled at my lovely sister. "But we both know if I try to help him, one or both of us are going to end up wearing those lattes."

  Turning, she grabbed one of the drink holders and one of the free-rangers and handed them to me, waiting until I took them to reach up and pat me on the head. "I have confidence in you."

  "I wish you didn't," I grumbled as I watched Logan load Blake down.

  She chuckled as we left, and Blake used his beautiful rear-end to push open the door, holding it for me to walk through. I nervously mumbled a thank you, and then made a face at my sister through the window, realizing too late that Blake was watching me when he chuckled.

  "Is she the owner?" he asked, and I shivered, praying I didn't get a boner while my hands were too full to adjust all that. There were some things Mrs. Prescott did not need to see when she stood at her window watching everyone pass by, and that was me leading Blake Sunday down the street with my penis pointing the way.

  But damn his voice was sexy.

  "Uh, no." I glanced nervously at him, wanting to take the opportunity I'd been given to just stare at him, but not at all having the bravery to do so. "I actually am. She's just bossy… and my sister."

  "Ah, enough said." I glanced at him quickly, gasping quietly at the sight of his crooked smile. "What about the other guy? He seems nice. You guys dating?"

  Da… Darn it. Figures.

  It was no secret that Blake Sunday was bi. It had been one of the best days of my life when he came out for Pride Month––even though my sister thought it was a publicity stunt. It was also no secret that Logan was absolutely gorgeous. Men, women and children all stopped and stared when he walked into the room. Heck, I'd seen a dog freeze in the middle of his butt sniffing to watch Logan stroll by on the sidewalk one day.

  I'd only had a few boyfriends over the years because… Well, there really wasn't any way around it. I was chubby, which probably wasn't going to change since I loved to cook, and I loved to test what I was cooking. I was the you're so handsome in the face guy. And really, only old ladies told me that, so I wasn't even sure I actually had that going for me either. Needless to say, after my third boyfriend to meet my cousin and mysteriously need to be at every single family function I had, only to spend the entire time following Logan around, I'd stopped introducing my boyfriends to him.

  It wasn't his fault, but the man was definitely a showstopper.

  "Logan?" I asked, even though I knew full well he meant the gorgeous man with the shoulder-length black hair, emerald-green eyes and beautifully chiseled face. "He's actually my cousin."

  I wonder how long until he asks for Logan's number. I really hope I'm not in the shop that day. As much as it sucked for me, it would be nice for Logan, though. Maybe they would get married and I could live vicariously through Logan's stories.

  Blake hummed, the sound kinda pleased. "Got the whole family working there?"

  I chuckled, feeling a little more at ease knowing Blake Sunday was into my cousin. It was like it kinda took the pressure off me a little. Maybe I could calm the eff down now. Not that I'd ever really thought we had a chance before, but having your fantasies crushed grew you up a little.

  "Not the whole family," I said with a shrug. "I couldn't afford the lawsuits if Aunt Nadine worked there, but on the bright side, if you need a bodyguard, I know a sixty-three-year-old woman who can swing a baseball bat like Babe Ruth and can sweet talk her way out of a prison sentence."

  Chapter Two

  The coffee and baked goods at Knick-Knack Patty-Cakes were absolutely delicious, but they were only a tiny fraction of the reason I couldn't stay out of the damn shop that was a bakery, coffee shop and trinket store. The main reason was the stunning owner with the wildly curly black hair he tried to keep hidden under a hat of some sort at all times, bright green eyes that nearly shined chartreuse in the sun through his black-rimmed glasses, and the sexiest plump ass to ever fill out khaki pants.

  I'd been in town for two weeks since I'd strolled into that shop for the first time, and I wasn't any less affected by the sight of the man now as I was that first time when he'd seemed to be offering me his dick and randomly talking about underwear. If anything, I was more affected, since the guy turned out to be sweet and funny and tended to chew on his lips when he was thinking.

  I really wanted to chew on his lips.

  I groaned as I looked through the glass of the large front window as I passed, seriously thinking about just coming back later in the day. Like when he wasn't standing on a ladder, bending over the top to put some tiny objects on the highest shelf, presenting his ass to me.

  Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, determined not to just stand around and stare at his ass the entire time I was in there. The sleigh bells rang, but Declan was so involved in what he was doing, he must have not heard it, or he completely ignored it, because he didn't turn to see who'd entered, and he didn't throw out a greeting.

  Tiny ornaments were scattered across one of the tables below him, not one of them the same.

  He sighed, mumbling finally under his breath, and I looked up to where he was working, realizing he'd been hanging several strands of cranberry garland from one shelf so that it sagged between the shelves.

  "What's all this?" I asked as he started to climb down, making him jump… and miss a step.

  "Oh!" he yelled in surprise as he started to fall, but I rushed forward, catching him by the hips and easing him down into my arms, letting my hands slide up his sides and press against his chest to steady him.

  "You okay?" I asked, biting my lip to keep from groaning at the feel of him pressed to my body.

  He was soft and pliant, and his perfect ass was pressing against my dick, which was very quickly becoming a problem, since it had already been kinda rowdy while I was looking at the man's ass moments before. He smelled like sugar cookies and something else that was a bit darker, and I was pretty fucking tempted to press my nose into his neck and breathe him in.

  "Yeah, sorry," Declan said, scrambling to get away. I let him go, and he stumbled slightly, reaching out to grab the counter, his face bright red. "I was in my own little world. I'm so sorry."

  He looked mortified, which seemed a bit over the top, but my concentration was stolen from his face by the pale skin of his belly peeking out from under his shirt where the material had ridden up and gotten stuck under his armpit. It looked so soft and supple, I was itching to reach out and run my thumb over it… or squeeze it.

  He must have noticed me staring because he looked down, noticing the way his shirt bunched and he gasped, quickly tugging it into place, curling his lip and looking miserable.

  Was he self-conscious about his extra weight? He shouldn't be. It looked fucking delicious on him.

  Knowing we both needed a distraction, I gestured to all the little ornaments, some wood, some ceramic. "What is this?"

  He gave me a small smile, but didn't actually look at me, unnecessarily still embarrassed. "More Christmas stuff. I've been so busy, I haven't had time to put the new stuff out."

  He turned, glancing over his shoulder to the box on the floor that I hadn't even seen yet which looked crammed full of red, green, white and gold.

  Damn. I wasn't really sure where he was going to put all that stuff.

  It was clear it was all handmade, though beautifully so, each one a tiny little original art piece.

  "These are great. Is the artist local?"

  Declan's eyes met mine, the green bright and slightly hypnotizing as another blush brightened his cheeks. "Uh, I wouldn't say artist, but yeah. I made them."

  "Really?" I looked at them again, liking them even more because they were made by his hands. "They're great."

  "Thanks." His blush brightened, and he gave me a shy smile before grabbing several of the ornaments off of the table and climbing back up the ladder. He hung each one from the cranberry garland, and
before he could climb back down to get more, I grabbed three more and handed them up to him.

  He gave me another shy smile and a quiet thank you and hung those as well. We were going like that for several minutes, neither of us saying anything while he hung ornaments, and I handed them up to him, stealing glances at his ass, and doing my best not to remember what he'd felt like in my arms, while hoping I got the chance to have him there again someday. Hopefully without the scurrying away and the misplaced embarrassment.

  "Have you thought much about going to the parade?" I asked when he'd gotten nearly every ornament hung, and I was handing him the last one. "The studio is going to have a pretty good setup with big heaters and tents. You could come as my guest and sit with me in the warmth if you want."

  "Oh." His face lit up briefly, and I thought he might actually accept my invitation for once, but then he pursed his lips, sighing. "That sounds nice, but I'll actually have a little booth up with one of the smaller machines. We'll also have coffee and hot chocolate, and I'm going to make some cookies."

  "Oh, yeah. I should have thought of that." And it was true. He was a business owner in a small town. Of course, they were going to have a booth. All the other places around had one too.

  Knowing he wasn't just blowing me off, and actually had a legitimate reason for not hanging out with me at the parade lessened the sting of disappointment, but I couldn't help but wonder if he'd have said yes either way, or if he'd have had another excuse if he hadn't had the booth. I honestly wasn't sure, and that bothered me.

  Christmas in Hidden Springs was unbelievable. I understood why they'd picked this town to film in. The town was basically a set all on its own, with tons of lights up and down the sidewalks that lit up beautifully.

  The parade was much bigger than I'd expected, with bands from neighboring schools, and floats from places all over the country. The town whose population was normally close to three thousand, looked about to burst with nearly double that, and I wondered how much of it was normal for the annual event, and how much of it was people hoping to get a glimpse of the movie personnel.