Winter Wonderland (6 page)

“I’m kind of glad you called.” Gabriel squinted through the fat snowflakes on his windshield, looking uneasy at the sight of them. “I was caught up in something and wasn’t paying attention to the weather. Frankly I’m surprised Arthur hasn’t called me to scold. But then, he’s babysitting Thomas and the girls, so he might not have the luxury of paying attention to what’s happening outside.” Gabriel spared a glance at Kyle before focusing on the business of driving through snow. “So. Explain why I’m picking you up like this.”

“Because Corrina told me not to kiss Paul. I’m pretty sure the kiss would have turned into fucking him against the door, so I took off.”

“Why did she tell you not to kiss him? And why in the world did you listen?”

Kyle tipped his head to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I almost went back twice. I guess I thought she was right about the café, so maybe I should trust her.”

“What about the café?”

Kyle spent the rest of the ride telling Gabriel about the dinner date, about Corrina’s Red Hat Society meeting, about the intimate dinner for two in the shop. He also filled him in on the new plan for the Winter Wonderland project. “Mostly we decided we didn’t understand what was going on, and Paul’s going to see if all of us can meet somewhere on Sunday afternoon. All of us being him, me, you, Arthur, Marcus and Frankie. He says you guys solved last year’s clusterfuck, so maybe that can happen again.”

“That should work. I’ll talk to Arthur.”

“No, don’t. Paul’s going to ask you. Act surprised.”

Gabriel smiled. “Sure. So explain to me now how you were nearly having sex against a door.”

“He kept staring at me. At first I thought I had stuff on my face, and he said I did, but now I wonder. I was
different
tonight, according to him. I still don’t understand how, because all he said was
than usual
. Which is annoying, because mostly I was nervous and self-conscious, but
that
was when he looked at me like he finally understood I was a male human.
Then
he looked like he was about to tell me I was too young again, and I kind of went postal on him.”

“Interesting. Go on.”

“Well, I told him I
wasn’t
too young, said I’d burn up his sheets, and he’d need an ice pack on his stool in the shop the next day.”

Gabriel laughed, a delightful trill reverberating inside the car. “I wish they had surveillance in the shop. I’d rewind it to watch his face.” He glanced across the seat at Kyle, gaze dancing with devilry. “Are you really that toppy?”

This was a weird conversation to be having with his local librarian. Kyle became focused on a loose thread on his mittens. “Just because I’m skinny and limp-wristed doesn’t mean I want to bend over.”

“No, and I don’t mean to stereotype. I will say it surprises me, though now as I truly think about it, maybe not. I can see what Paul means about you being different, if you were letting that side of you out.”

They were at the café now, which had barely any cars left in the lot. Gabriel pulled in beside Kyle’s car. As Kyle released his seat belt, Gabriel turned to him with a smile. “I think you and I need to get to know one another better. Frankie too. When we meet on Sunday for this get-together I don’t know about yet, let’s discuss a time the three of us can escape to Duluth.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Or maybe even the Cities. We could do some early Christmas shopping.”

Kyle hadn’t been to Minneapolis in forever. “That sounds great.”

Gabriel winked and made gentle shooing motions at the door. “Go on. Drive safe, all right?”

“You too,” Kyle said, and hurried out of the car.

It took him an extra fifteen minutes to get home, and when he pulled into the garage, he let out a heavy sigh of relief. As he stomped snow off his boots and hung his things in the mudroom, Linda Kay’s worried, bespectacled face appeared at the window. When he opened the door, she enveloped him in a tight hug, pressing her face into his chest. “Kyle David, you scared me half to death. You should have come home hours ago.”

Kyle hugged her back, kissing her hair. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was on a date.”

She lifted her face, worry evaporating to interest. “Oh? With who?”

Kyle’s lips quirked. “Paul.”

Her face screwed up into her beautiful, squinty smile. “You
devil
. Did you make it to third base?”

“I didn’t even get to first. I’m playing hard to get.”

Linda Kay let go of him and rolled her eyes. “Well,
that’s
got to be a first. Is it working?”

Kyle remembered the way Paul had looked at him, back pressed against the door. “Maybe.”

“Then keep your zipper shut, buddy.” She took his hand and pulled him toward the kitchen. “Let’s celebrate with hot cocoa and marshmallows.”

Kyle followed her, smiling and feeling loved and warm and home. “Sounds perfect.”

Chapter Five

Pau
l texted Arthur, Gabriel, Frankie and Marcus in a group message about getting together on Sunday. Arthur replied immediately, said it was fine and offered to host. But when Marcus responded, he said
he
wanted to host because they wanted to show off the new house, which Paul knew was Marcus believing
Frankie
wanted to show off. Arthur complained
he
had plenty to show off too, because they’d settled on the plans for the cabin remodel.

For three days Paul’s phone buzzed as Arthur and Marcus argued, until Gabriel suggested they bring the cabin plans along, enjoy Frankie’s cooking, and plan another event at the cabin soon. Frankie thought this was a wonderful idea and offered to make chili, and why didn’t everyone else bring a dish to pass? There was some argument over who would bring what sides, but eventually Paul was able to text Kyle.

We’re meeting to discuss the Winter Wonderland thing at 2:30 at Marcus and Frankie’s place on Sunday. Does that work for you? Frankie was trying to not wake you up too early but leave enough time before your shift.

It took Kyle half an hour to reply, during which time Paul mostly paced his living room worrying that strange, awkward end to their dinner Tuesday night had messed everything up. After which he would remind himself there wasn’t anything between them to mess up, and that was the way it had to be. He was in the middle of trying to phrase a new response nudging to see if Kyle was upset with him when the text came through.
Perfect. Thanks. Should I bring anything?

Paul let out a heavy sigh of relief and deleted the draft he’d been slaving over.
You and I were supposed to bring dessert, but I can do it since you’re probably busy.

I like baking, and Linda Kay loves to help. If that’s okay?

It was, because Paul had planned to pick up a package of cookies from the grocery store. Now he didn’t have anything to bring, though. He’d bring some beer. And Sprite for Kyle.

Sounds great. Thanks.
He sent the text, and then on an impulse sent a second.
Do you want me to give you a ride?

He blushed and scolded himself for stupidity. Why had he offered that? Wasn’t he supposed to be
not
engaging with Kyle?

I don’t want to pull you away from your friends. I’ll have to leave by six to go home and get ready for work.

Paul relaxed, realizing what had been his subconscious drive to make the offer.
Actually that works out perfectly. Gives me an excuse to leave early.
It’s nothing against them, but they get kind of
—he hesitated, trying to figure out how to word it—
coupley.
Except autocorrect switched it to
couple
as he sent, so now he sounded like an idiot. He tried again.
I mean that they’re all caught up in each other, and I’m the odd man out.

Sounds like every family gathering with my siblings. Sure, I’ll take a ride. Thanks. When should I be ready?

Marcus would bitch if they got there too early.
How about I come around 2:15 and you show me the snow sculptures?

I’ll be ready. With dessert.

There was nothing lewd about that comment, but Paul was still ridiculously aroused when he put the phone down and went to the shower. He jacked off, thinking he needed to get sex out of his system, but as he leaned on the wall, hot spray beating into his chest as he stroked himself, all he could think about was the night before. When Kyle had backed him into the door. When Kyle had been angry and cocky.

If I got you in the same room as a bed, it wouldn’t be my ass sore in the morning.

Paul’s decidedly empty ass clenched at the memory, but his cock only got fuller. None of the frustrated, empty masturbation sessions that had plagued him lately. Even the ache at knowing he’d be the odd man out at the potluck had faded. In the safety of his fantasies, he let that saucy promise play out. Imagined Kyle pushing him onto his bed. Looming over him as the guy who had told Paul off, not the winking, cheerful innocent who waved at visitors from behind the nurses’ station at the care center. When this imaginary Kyle pushed Paul’s legs back, real-life Paul leaned on the shower wall. When Kyle teased his entrance, Paul’s balls drew up. When Kyle pushed inside, Paul let out a huff of breath and stroked himself faster.

When Kyle kissed him, hard and demanding as he buried himself to the hilt, Paul came all over the wall. He made such a mess he had to get out paper towels and dig splooge out of the grout and the crevices of his hot water handle. He was glad for the chore, because it gave him something to focus on other than the fact that he’d just gotten off to imagining Kyle Parks fucking him.

Paul got off to a Kyle fantasy again on Saturday morning, one so intense he was late for his scheduled visit to his parents. After bailing on them the week before, he’d promised he’d come by for Saturday dinner, and though the overnight snow squall had stopped, the plows hadn’t been down his parents’ road, making it clear he should have left twenty minutes
earlier
to be on time. This meant as he pulled up to the farmhouse, his father was outside, ostensibly fussing with the sidewalk to make sure it was clear, but mostly being available to watch for Paul and deliver the greeting Paul had known was coming.

“You’re late. Your mother’s been worried sick.”

“Sorry. I texted.” Paul held out his hand. “Here, Dad, let me do that for you.”

Larry waved this offer away. “It’s fine. Tim came by early this morning. Plowed the drive, cleared off the walk.”

Tim was Paul’s brother-in-law, who lived a few miles over and farmed the land Larry no longer could. There was no logic in Paul, who didn’t have a tractor with a snowplow attachment, to drive seven miles out of town on unplowed roads to shovel a ten-foot walk, but his father’s tone made Paul feel guilty all the same.

They went inside together, Paul taking care to not only wipe his boots but line them up the way his mother liked, hanging his coat on the peg that had always been his while Larry called out, “Mother, Pauly’s here.”

Paul’s mother emerged from the kitchen, frowning as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “Land sakes, we were worried sick.” Mary kissed Paul’s cheek and patted his arm. “Come eat. The pork chops need to come out of the oven, or they’ll get tough.”

After stopping to wash his hands in the bathroom by the kitchen, Paul took his place as his mother laid out a dish of peas, a bowl of mashed potatoes, pork chops, dinner rolls and gravy. His father tucked a cloth napkin in his lap and poured milk into his glass from a gallon jug. “How’s business? You breaking even yet?”

Paul nodded as he accepted the milk from his father. “Doing fine. Nice and steady.”

“Probably the Christmas rush. You best put plenty by for the long winter months.”

“I will.” Paul poured his mother’s milk as she sat.

“Thank you.” Mary draped her own napkin. “Will you say grace, Dad?”

Larry said a short prayer, during which Paul murmured along but mostly let his mind wander, thinking how it drove Arthur nuts how Paul’s parents called each other Mother and Dad.

Mary passed him the potatoes. “I heard at Circle you were helping with the Winter Wonderland festival. What will you be doing?”

“Still sorting that out. I’m meeting with Arthur and the guys tomorrow to make plans. Some kind of display area, which Kyle Parks is going to stencil. The guys are helping out too.”

Mary pulled a face. “Let’s hope there are no
displays
like last year.”

The display upsetting her almost a year later was Arthur’s grand proposal to Gabriel, in a Santa suit. Paul didn’t reply, pushing his peas around his plate.

Dinner proceeded along, alternating between inquiries about his life and reports of his parents’ comings and goings. Larry’s hip was giving him trouble, according to Mary, but he insisted it was fine. Mary had started a new afghan she intended to give to the donation basket at church. She also had made great progress on some squares for the quilt her women’s circle was making.

“Sandra and Tim are coming over tomorrow for lunch after church. Dad will probably take the kids up to the hill to go sledding, if his hip is okay.”

“My hip will be fine, Mother.”

Mary gave Paul a look that said she clearly wasn’t convinced of this, but time would tell. “You should come sit with us at church, Paul, and eat lunch after.”

“I’ll do my best,” Paul lied.

He’d let his mother parade eligible women past his nose before he’d spend time voluntarily with his sister and brother-in-law. Anytime they were around, he had to listen to hate speech about somebody, usually gays but not necessarily limited to that demographic. Sandy particularly hated Gabriel and what she called his
progressive agenda
. “He always has books about black and Hispanic kids. And Asian kids. You want to know how many of those we have in Logan? Zero. And thank God. Probably he’ll have a book about Islam next. Trying to turn our poor innocent children into Jihadis.”

There was no Gabriel-bashing today, thankfully. After dinner he offered to do some odd jobs, but they didn’t have any because Tim had done them all. Or they had some and knew if they got too complicated, Paul would try to come back with Arthur. So he watched some hockey with his dad until Tim came over to do chores. Paul hurried into his coat, making noise about how he couldn’t stay because he had lots to do at home.

When he did get to his house, he pulled a microwave meal out of the freezer, and while it heated, he cracked a beer and dug out the holiday romance DVD set.

A Boyfriend for Christmas
sounded like a great thing to be busy with for the evening.

W
hen Corrina stopped by the care center Saturday evening, Kyle leaned over the nurses’ station, looked her dead in the eye, and said, “I want to kiss him.”

“You will, dear. But if you want to kiss him more than
once
, you’ll do as I say.” When Kyle protested, Corrina, still in her winter gear, aimed a red-gloved finger beneath her no-nonsense expression. “Don’t give me any guff, young man. You may have fantasized about him since you were old enough to know you could, but
I
have been mothering that boy since he started hanging out with Arthur. I know what it will take to win him.”

It was hard to argue with that, which made Kyle fantastically grumpy. “
Why
can’t I kiss him? And how long is this moratorium going to last?”

“It’s difficult to say how long exactly. With proper attention, you should be kissing by Thanksgiving for sure.”

Kyle groaned and slumped forward onto the station.

Corrina patted him on the arm. “There, there. It might be earlier. I was giving you worst-case scenario. You have to understand how skittish and contrary Paul can be. The more he can’t have something, the more he wants it. And in addition to his hang-ups he has about your age, he was most unfortunate in his parental lottery.” She looked at him over her half-rim glasses. “Are you still watching the Christmas movies?”

“I figured I had the general gist of them, so no.”

“Can you tell me why he watches them yet?”

Kyle fumbled for a response most likely to get him out of more movies. “The romance?”

Corrina tweaked his nose. “I’ll tell Gabriel to pull you a new set.”

A patient call button rang, and Corrina waved goodbye to him as he went to the intercom system to answer. It was
one of those nights
, where everyone was agitated and needed special attention. Mr. Haverson, a ninety-two-year-old man with Parkinson’s and severe dementia, kept triggering the alarm on his chair because he was convinced he had to go out and check his cows. He scolded Kyle for making him sit in his chair, called him Bobby and told him it was well past time he got his act together and got a job. Bobby Haverson was his son, dead of a heart attack five years ago.

Kyle didn’t point this out, only patiently told Robert Senior over and over that he was doing his
best
to do his job, but for that to happen, Mr. Haverson had to stay in his chair. About the time that nonsense settled down, Hettie Lansing started screaming because her roommate was moaning in her sleep. During all of this, nice Mrs. Matherson, who was perfectly lucid but needed care while she recovered from the flu, waited forever for a cup of water because her throat was dry, all because she wasn’t a melting-down mess like the rest of the care center.

The CNAs and the other nurses on staff did their best to help, but there was so much chaos, they all ran themselves ragged. His shift was technically over at three, but it was quarter to four in the morning before he was able to trudge to his car. When Kyle finally got home, he peeled out of his clothes, left them in a heap, and fell asleep as soon as he crawled under his comforter.

He slept without dreaming until he woke because someone was gently but insistently tapping him on the arm. He opened his eyes to see Linda Kay’s face peeking over the edge of his mattress. Smiling sleepily, he fumbled a hand out from the blankets to honk her nose. “Hey, pretty lady.”

She rose enough so her chin could rest on the blankets. She
wasn’t
smiling. “Mom said I can’t wake you. But there was an accident.”

Kyle sat straight up, holding the comforter to his naked waist. “What happened? Is anyone hurt?”

Linda Kay’s eyes filled with tears. “Dad and Rob threw snow over the fence and wrecked the dragon and the ice princess.”

Kyle allowed himself a moment to drift down from the adrenaline. Once his heart wasn’t slammed against the back of his throat, he wiped away Linda Kay’s tears with his thumb. “Hey, no worries. We can fix it.”

The door to his bedroom opened, and their mother came in. “Oh, Kyle, I’m so sorry. I told her not to come in here.”

Linda Kay tipped her chin up. “Mom, he was
awake
. I was only
watching
to see so I could tell him right away.”