by Ali Ryecart
“The key to your heart, Roland. I’ve unlocked your heart, too.”
Georgie’s eyes fluttered to a close, as their lips met. The kiss was sweet and soft, it was everything he’d ever yearned for, it was everything he believed he would never have. It was every Christmas and birthday rolled into one. It was hope and belief, it was warmth, when for so long he had known only bone-numbing, crushing cold. It was coming home.
It was love.
“Gentlemen.”
Roland didn’t want to wake up, he didn’t want to be pulled from the warmth, just like he didn’t want to be pulled from his dream, the dream where he told Georgie he loved him, and where Georgie told him he loved him back. He wanted to stay in that cosy world where it was just the two of them, where all the stresses and strains and demands of life had no place.
“Mr. Fletcher Jones, Mr. Forrester.”
The voice was calm but insistent.
Roland peeled his eyes open.
“Nicholas,” Roland said, blinking up at the old man. “I’ve been asleep.”
Nicholas chuckled. “You have, you’ve been asleep for a very long time, but you’re awake, now, and that’s what matters.” Nicholas smiled down at him, his blue eyes gleaming.
Roland stared up at him, the old man’s words reverberating in his head. Their meaning was somehow more than the sum of their parts, but all thought of asking what he meant broke up and drifted away as Georgie, snuggled in his arms, opened his eyes and greeted him with a smile so warm and bright that Roland was dazzled.
“We fell asleep down here. Sorry,” Georgie said, looking up at Nicholas. “Is it still Christmas Day? I’ve kind of lost track of time. Did you get all your work done?”
“I did indeed.” Nicholas’ smile broadened. “And most satisfying it was, too. It’s the busiest day of the year, but it’s drawing to a close. As is your time here.”
“I’m sorry?” Roland said. “What—? Ah, I see.”
Standing by the door into the lounge, were his and Georgie’s bags. Roland returned his focus to Nicholas, meeting the old man’s gaze.
“You mean it’s time for us to go?”
“I do indeed, sir.” Nicholas inclined his head. “The hotel is closing, you see. Today. We’re very… seasonal.”
“Closing? On Christmas Day? I don’t understand,” Georgie said.
Roland smiled. Maybe Georgie wasn’t meant to understand, or not yet, but he did. It was crazy, insane, madness. It was unbelievable, it was the stuff of fantasy, myth and legend. But it was as real and warm and alive as he and Georgie were.
“Thank you, Nicholas. I quite understand.”
“I knew you would, sir, I knew you would. The snow’s stopped, and the roads have been cleared. You would hardly know it had been snowing at all. I’ve taken the liberty of having the damage to your car repaired. It wasn’t as bad as it looked, and a little effort was all that was needed to make it seem like new again.” Nicholas nodded towards the window.
Roland pushed himself up and walked across to the window. In the soft, fading light, the snow that had lain so heavily was no more than a few melting clumps caught in the trees and bushes. In the centre of the lawn was a small mound, the remains of the snowman he and Georgie had built together, and by the entrance to the hotel was his car, as bright and gleaming as the day he’d bought it. He smiled, and decided against asking where Nicholas had found a mechanic on Christmas Day.
“I can’t believe it.” Next to him, Georgie stared out wide-eyed. “How can that much snow just — go? And the car… I just can’t believe it,” he said again.
Roland draped his arm around Georgie’s shoulders and pulled him close.
“Sometimes you just have to believe. You don’t question, or push, or pull. You just believe. Isn’t that so, Nicholas?” Roland said, turning.
Nicholas was nowhere to be seen. Roland shivered. The fire had gone out, leaving nothing but ash in the grate. The steady tick of the ornamental clock was silent, the hands on the dial frozen. Straining his ears, Roland heard nothing other than his own heartbeat.
“You know there are no trains today, so maybe you can give me a lift to my friend’s flat when we get back to London.”
Roland’s whole body jerked.
Georgie didn’t think—? But Georgie’s lips were straining hard not to grin, and Roland shook his head and began to laugh.
“You’re coming home. With me.”
Home. For the first time in what was probably forever, his house would be a home. His heart clenched and contentment hugged him close.
“Come on,” he said, his voice rough, “it’s time to go.”
In the doorway, they picked up their bags.
“Hang on, we can’t forget these.” Georgie rushed back into the lounge. “Our hearts,” he said, holding up the pair of silver locks.
Their latches hung loose, and Roland took them from Georgie. They were beautiful in their simplicity, but they needed a little help to be perfect. Roland linked their latches, and clicked them both closed, locking their hearts together.
“I’m ready. Are you?” Roland said, smiling into Georgie’s eyes.
Georgie nodded, his expression calm, content. He leaned forward, brushing his lips to Roland’s.
“I am. Come on, it’s time to go home.”
Epilogue: One Year Later
“I’m shattered. I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard.”
As soon as Georgie locked the door and switched the sign to closed, he flopped back against it. Yes, he’d worked hard, but as he looked around at the empty restaurant, cleared of the evening’s customers, a heady mix of pride and satisfaction surged through him.
They had done so much over the past year, he and Roland. For them both, there had been a change of job, a change of location. A change of life. From kitchen boy to sous chef, Georgie’s knowledge, skills and confidence had flourished under Roland’s firm but patient tutoring. He smiled, wider than he’d ever smiled before, as Roland, dressed like him in his chef’s whites, wandered in from the kitchen, holding a chilled bottle of champagne in one hand, and two flutes in the other.
“Champagne, ohh, yes please,” Georgie said, making his way across to one of the cleared and empty tables.
“You’ve developed quite the taste for it. Do you think I need to check on our stock?”
Georgie rolled his eyes at the same time he harrumphed, but he couldn’t help grinning.
“Cheeky git.”
Roland laughed as he removed the foil and cage, before popping the cork and pouring them each a glass. He handed one to Georgie.
“Happy Christmas, love.” Roland pressed a small, soft kiss to Georgie’s lips.
Love. The endearment warmed Georgie’s heart, and tingled and fizzed along his backbone, just like the champagne’s gentle sparkle always tingled on his tongue.
“I—I don’t think I could ever get tired of you calling me that,” Georgie murmured.
“Good, because I’ll never get tired of saying it. Ever.”
They chinked glasses, each sighing as they took their first sip.
“Christmas Day,” Georgie said, a small smile tugging at his lips as he gazed into Roland’s eyes. “It’s all a bit different to last year, isn’t it?”
Roland nodded, and looked down into the sparkling pale gold in his glass. Georgie studied the man who, in the summer, would become his husband.
The slight shadow under Roland’s eyes was evidence of how relentlessly he’d worked over the year. Georgie knew his own face betrayed the same telltale signs. They had thrown themselves into their new lives together, rushing forward at a frantic, breakneck pace.
It had been breathtaking, what they’d achieved in just twelve months, but it had brought them so much.
A successful restaurant known as much for its laid-back vibe as it was for the excellence of its food, so much so that they were booked out solid for weeks and weeks ahead. It had brought them their own home, a cosy terraced cottage i
n a tucked away street just a stroll away, instead of Roland’s grand but sterile town house.
Most of all, it had brought them to each other, two men, different in so many ways, yet who fitted together like the two heart shaped locks that had been fastened to one another a year ago today.
Georgie placed his flute on the table and smiled as he turned his engagement ring around and around on his finger.
“Why have you got that dopey grin on your face?”
Georgie looked up at Roland, who was doing his best to look cool and superior, but the smile pulling at his own lips gave him away.
“Just thinking about the way our lives have changed. Imagine if we hadn’t got lost in the snow, and followed the signs to the hotel — the hotel we never found out the name of, or where it was,” Georgie added, his voice dropping.
He kept his eyes trained on Roland’s. They rarely talked about the time they spent in the snowbound hotel. The hotel with no other guests. The hotel with no staff, other than a white-bearded old man with twinkling blue eyes.
“Do you think we would find it again?” Georgie asked quietly.
Roland tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t think so.” He spoke slowly, as though weighing each word. “We found it when we needed to, and I don’t just mean because of the weather. It was like we needed to find a safe place, where it was just us, away from the world with all its constraints.”
“Where we could be more than the Executive Chef and the kitchen boy. Where we could be just Roland and Georgie. I—I sometimes think it was the hotel that found us, not the other way around.”
Georgie felt the heat throb in his face. His words sounded whimsical, almost silly. He expected Roland to laugh, but instead his fiancé nodded, his face serious and thoughtful.
“I think you’re right. We were both drowning, in our own way. The hotel, and Nicholas, were our lifeline.”
Roland took Georgie’s hands in his. Georgie’s skin tingled with the touch, the way it always did, and always would. He waited, knowing Roland had more to say.
“We could spend the rest of our lives looking for the hotel, but, honestly, I don’t think we’d ever find it because I don’t think we’re meant to, or not now. I believe — hope — that others will. Others who have lost their way and need a little, or a lot, of help to find their direction. The way we did.”
Their eyes met and held, their hands linked together and warm. Georgie brushed his front teeth across his lower lip. The words he wanted to say, they were crazy, impossible, fantastical—
“Who do you think Nicholas was, or is? Really?”
He held his breath, not sure, suddenly, if he wanted Roland to answer.
“I think… I think he was the man who brought us both our best and most precious Christmas gift ever.”
Georgie closed his eyes as his fiancé brushed his lips across his in the gentlest of kisses.
We’re each other’s gift, for Christmas, and the day after, and the day after that… The thought was as rich and luscious as the champagne Georgie tasted on Roland’s lips.
“It’s snowing,” Roland murmured.
Georgie followed Roland’s gaze. Huge, fat, feathery flakes floated in the winter sky on the other side of the big, plate glass window.
“There was no snow forecast,” Georgie said, getting up and moving across to the window.
The snow was coming down fast. As it settled, it softened the hard edges of the normally busy London street, that now was quiet and empty, and where no light shone, other than a single, softly glowing street lamp.
“No,” Roland said, coming up behind Georgie and coiling his arms around his waist. “But I’m glad it is. It seems apt, somehow. Come on, let’s get home where we can really start our celebrations.”
Georgie laughed and squirmed as Roland nuzzled into his neck. They were each other’s biggest and best Christmas gift, and they were in need of unwrapping.
Coats, hats, and gloves pulled on, and scarves wound around their necks, lights were flicked off, and the door locked. Arm in arm, and holding each other tight, they made their way home through the silent, deserted, snowy street, turning the corner as the lamplight faded to black behind them.
Stalk Me!
Thank you for reading Christmas Spirit. If you enjoyed it, a short review would be welcome.
You might also enjoy my other Christmas books:
A Kiss Before Christmas, Company for Christmas, and The Boss of Christmas Present.
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Also by Ali Ryecart
CONTEMPORARY GAY ROMANCE
BARISTA BOYS
Danny & Jude
Stevie & Mack
Connor & Ash
Bernie
DEVIANT HEARTS
Captive Hearts*
Radical Hearts*
Perilous Hearts *
*also available as audiobooks*
URBAN LOVE
Loose Connection
The Story of Love
Corporate Bodies
*Complete series available as a box set*
RENT BOYS
Release
Faking It
RORY & JACK
A Kiss Before Christmas*
An Easter Promise*
A Christmas Wedding*
*also available as audiobooks*
*All series novels can be read as stand alones*
Company for Christmas
(A stand alone, but can also be read as a prequel to the Rent Boys series)
The Boss of Christmas Present
Imperfect
About Ali Ryecart
I used to tell my stories to myself, now I tell them to the world...
The stories I only ever told to myself took place in a world where it was boy meets boy, where best friends became more, where the hero didn't save the damsel but the hot guy he'd been secretly crushing on.
I wanted to read those stories. I craved to read those stories. But those stories weren't out there. Or that's what I thought... Until one Christmas, when I unwrapped a shiny new e-reader. All it took was a few clicks, and my world changed forever.
I found my tribe.
But there is life outside of MM & gay romantic fiction in all its configurations. Allegedly.
When I'm forced to switch off the trusty, faithful word machine, there's a husband to feed and talk to, pubs to drink in, and cake to eat. I love to do all those things and more, before I rush back to write all the words.
I'm a Londoner, born and bred, but I now live just outside of the big bad city, but close enough to hop on a train so I can get my regular metropolitan fix.
