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Christmas at Bennett’s (Breakfast at Bennett’s #4.5) 1. Jonah 8%
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Christmas at Bennett’s (Breakfast at Bennett’s #4.5)

Christmas at Bennett’s (Breakfast at Bennett’s #4.5)

By E.M. Denning
© lokepub

1. Jonah

CHAPTER 1

JONAH

Jonah was banned from Spencer’s workshop, which could mean only one thing. Spencer was working on a gift for him, and with mere weeks until Christmas, it also meant that he had precious little time to think of the perfect gift for Spencer.

His boyfriend was always making him things. It started with the pop tab flower garden and it had only continued from there. Every special occasion, birthday, anniversary, Bottomless Wing Wednesday at The Anchor, Spencer was pulling little handmade tokens of his affection out and giving them to Jonah. They were Jonah’s greatest treasures and why he needed to do something that was just as special.

The only problem was that Spencer was this amazingly talented, wonderful artist with vision and a skill set to back it up and the last artistic thing Jonah did was probably something involving cutting and pasting in elementary school. He taught math, for crying out loud. The last time he’d even set foot in the art room at school was to deliver a plant to the art teacher after he’d admired it in Jonah’s classroom.

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and Jonah sank into Spencer’s embrace. He smelled of sawdust, a scent Jonah loved.

“It’s going to snow tonight.” Spencer kissed the side of Jonah’s neck, oblivious to the storm inside him.

“It’s about time. It’s already December.” There might have been a mild panic attack when Jonah woke that morning and realized that it was the first of December already. He had twenty-four days—twenty-three now—to make the perfect gift for Spencer. He’d already decided that anything involving drawing or painting was out. There was nothing romantic about getting a painting or a drawing of stickmen.

The local community center held art classes all the time and this holiday season they were ramping up with some drop-in classes. All the supplies had been donated and the money raised would go to a local kid’s charity.

“Hey, you okay?” Spencer always had been sensitive to Jonah’s moods and most of the time Jonah welcomed it, but right now it ground against the grain.

“I’m fine. Just worn out, I think.”

“Thankfully, winter break is around the corner.”

“Yeah.” Jonah tried not to think of the fact that Spencer had an art commission to finish for the city’s Christmas display and that he’d be locked away in his shop, working on that and Jonah’s gift. Anyone else in the world would be allowed to waltz in, but the area was strictly off-limits to Jonah. It shouldn’t bother him as much as it did.

Spencer was the literal best boyfriend a guy could ever want. He was caring and attentive. He looked out for Jonah, and looked after him too. Jonah felt like a cherished equal partner, something he thought he’d never find. And Spencer was sexy as hell.

“What are your plans tonight?” Jonah asked.

“I came in to steal a kiss from you, and then I was going to spend a couple more hours out in the shop.” Spencer sounded apologetic about it. Maybe he understood that it sucked to be banished from the shop. Jonah had taken a liking to sitting out there while Spencer worked. It was sometimes loud, but he didn’t mind the noise. Most of the time, they barely spoke. Jonah would sit and read a book, and Spencer would tinker away on his creations.

“I think I’ll go into town. I might do some shopping.”

“I’m sorry about the whole banishment thing, Jonah. If it helps to know, I hate it just as much as you do. I like glancing up and seeing you tucked away in your corner.”

Jonah had made himself at home with the recliner from his living room. When he moved in with Spencer, they’d had to decide which furniture pieces to use. They switched out Spencer’s old, squeaky bed frame for Jonah’s, a wood one with drawers in the base. The living room furniture that Spencer had was in great condition so Jonah donated his couch to a lady from the shelter who was starting over, but he kept his recliner and muscled it into Spencer’s workshop. He cleared a small area for it in the back corner out of the way, and that had been his spot ever since.

Spencer’s apology and admission that he was also suffering helped make Jonah feel better. Not entirely, but he’d survive.

“It’s okay. As much as I pout about it, I do understand.” Jonah turned to face Spencer. He loved that Spencer was a little taller than him, a lot stronger than him. It made him feel small and safe when he was in Spencer’s arms.

“Are you sure? Maybe I could rig up like a curtain or something.”

“Yes, because a giant fabric wall sounds safe around someone with a welder and torch fetish.”

Spencer narrowed his gaze. “I’m an artist, not some kind of welder fetishizer.”

Jonah waggled his eyebrows. “You’re not, but I am.”

That earned him a laugh and his chest warmed, the tightness eased. Knowing he was wanted helped more than he’d realized it would.

“A curtain is a bad idea, Sparky, and it defeats the purpose of me sitting there anyway. I happen to have a hot, talented boyfriend and the best part of sitting in the shop is watching you use your shirt for a face towel.”

“I feel objectified.” The humor and heat in Spencer’s gaze indicated that he didn’t mind that one little bit. Spencer brushed a kiss against Jonah’s mouth. It was soft and sweet, smelled of sawdust and tasted of apology. “I have to get out there.”

Jonah let out a sigh. “Fine.”

He let go of Spencer and made a shooing motion with his hand. “Get going. Do your secret art thing and I’ll go into town for a while.”

“I really am so?—”

Jonah pressed his hand against Spencer’s mouth, muffling any additional apology. “No more of that. It’s not for forever, it’s only for now. It’s not your fault that I’m a spoiled rotten man who got used to having all of someone’s attention.”

“You still have all my attention.” Spencer cupped Jonah’s cheeks in his perfectly rough, calloused hands and slanted his mouth over Jonah’s, kissing him long and deep, until Jonah was almost boneless on his feet and dizzy from lack of oxygen.

When Spencer pulled away, Jonah could only blink at him. It was like his brain had gone entirely offline during the kiss.

“Did you want to pick something up for dinner on your way back and we can have a movie night when you get home? I only need a couple more hours and then I’m all yours.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Spencer kissed him again, a light brush of lips against his. “It’s going to snow soon, make sure you drive safe. That first snow of the year is always like snot on the road.”

Jonah was well aware of that fact, and he was a seasoned winter driver, a cautious one too, but he loved Spencer’s concern for him.

“I’ll be safe. I promise. But you have to be safe too. No artistic heroics. If something is too big or too high or too hard, you call Greta and get her down here to help you.”

“Yes, boss.” Spencer smiled at Jonah like he was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, trying to be all big and bossy. With a final kiss, Spencer went back outside. Not even bothering with a coat, he dashed between the house and the workshop, disappearing through the side door.

Jonah’s good mood deflated with Spencer out of sight, but he slipped his coat on and drove into town. The community center, in addition to having the art classes all December long, had an array of handmade gifts for sale. For a fleeting moment, Jonah entertained the idea of cheating. He could easily buy something and gift it to Spencer. But Jonah was a shitty liar, and as nice as an easy way out sounded, he knew he’d never be happy with himself if he pulled something like that.

The community center smelled of fresh gingerbread and it was decorated with sparkly garland strung across the ceiling. Glittery stars and snowflakes hung from thin wire anchored into the drop ceiling. Christmas music played softly in the background. “Carol of the Bells” was his favorite, and an instrumental version started when he walked in. Jonah took that as a good omen.

He followed the snowmen signs that led people to the art classes where he was greeted by a short, older woman wearing an antler headband and a blinking Christmas light necklace.

“Happy Holidays! Are you here for the classes?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d come down and check them out.” Jonah pulled some money out of his wallet and stuffed it into the donation jar.

“Tonight we have pottery in the Taggart room, or we have wood carving in the Forester room.”

The rooms in the community center were named after people who’d contributed to the facility in some meaningful way.

“There’s also still life lessons going on in the sunroom.”

There was no way in hell that Jonah was going to set foot in a still life class.

After a brief internal debate, Jonah wandered off in the direction of the Forester room. It smelled vaguely of wood, which made Jonah smile. He felt at home in this room. Large tables were set up in a U shape. There were a few chairs currently occupied and the instructor wandered around in the center of the U, going from student to student.

Jonah took a seat and the instructor came over with everything he needed to get started which consisted of a block of wood, a short pencil, a few carving tools, and a photocopied instruction book on how to carve a spoon.

“You’ll want to take your time sketching out the shape of your spoon. Don’t make the handle too thin to start. And remember, you can always take more off, but you can’t put wood back on. Take a little at a time.”

Jonah sketched a spoon onto the block of wood—that much was easy. Then he got to start carving. The instructor made the rounds for the next ninety minutes, giving advice and encouragement.

Jonah managed to get a lot done in ninety minutes. He wasn’t sure what the hell he wanted to give Spencer a spoon for. What would he do with a spoon? He’d love it because Jonah made it, but would he love it because it was good? And how could it be good? It was a spoon.

It wasn’t even that good. Of course, there was a lot to do before it would be finished, if it ever got finished. Which it might not. The tools had to stay behind, but Jonah got to take the unfinished spoon and the instruction book home with him.

After cramming them into the inside jacket pocket to keep them from view, he stopped for takeout on the way home. He felt flat, like all the hope had leaked out of him.

As predicted, the snow started while Jonah was driving home. Big, fat, wet flakes splattered against his windshield. By the time he pulled in a few minutes later, the snow was coming down harder, like it was on a mission to make up for lost time.

Jonah grabbed the bag of takeout and took it inside. He’d chosen some Italian from one of their favorite places and tucked it into the oven to keep it warm. Before he texted Spencer to tell him he was home, he hid the half-finished spoon in an empty shoe box in the closet. He’d either finish it or he’d find something else. Something better.

Spencer deserved better.

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