Christmas Beau (Christmas Falls: Season 2)

Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

“ I was in the same room as the deputy mayor recently,” Hank told Josh Gilmore as they descended the stairs to the first floor of the community center. “Was even introduced to him. And I didn’t think to ask him about the community center’s budget. I should’ve at least asked him for a sit-down with the mayor.”

“Based on what Coach Scharf said, though, the town’s budget for our hockey programs doesn’t really matter,” Josh said.

True, but Hank was still curious why their hockey program ended with U14.

He and Josh had spent the past two and a half hours on a video call with Coach Scharf. Pete had been right—Scharf was a good place to start. His first tip had been to register their new hockey club as a nonprofit. From there, Hank’s to-do list was a mile long.

Brainstorm fundraising ideas.

Hire someone to design a website.

Begin the search for a board of directors.

Draft bylaws and policies.

Workshop the name for the club, because Central Illinois Youth Hockey Association was a mouthful.

Put together a sponsorship package.

Meet with local businesses to discuss sponsorship opportunities.

Research licenses and permits.

Apply for youth sports grants.

Contact neighboring communities to gauge interest and possible partnership in the club.

Scharf had also mentioned something about tax exemptions that Hank hadn’t quite grasped, so he needed to send a follow-up email.

For some reason, Hank had had it in his head that he could start a brand-new hockey club in only a few months. But based on their call with Scharf, Hank was now seeing this as a multi-year project. And that meant all of the U15 and above kids would still need to go to Peoria to keep up with their training, at least for the next few years.

Maybe if this was Hank’s sole focus, he could get it done faster, but he had a full-time job. Even with Josh’s help, they were probably looking at least two years’ worth of planning before the club became a reality.

The first floor of the community center was a riot of activity. Kids were dropped off for after-school programs, others were being picked up, adult classes were starting in the weight rooms, and parents and guardians stood around in groups chatting while their charges were in class.

Stepping out of the way of a couple of preteens carrying hockey bags, Josh zipped his coat and said, “What do you think our next step is?”

“Talking to local communities, maybe? That’ll help us gauge interest. Give us a better idea of how big this club could be.”

“We should talk to parents too. I bet we’ll find plenty who’d volunteer to help us fundraise when we get to that point, and maybe even a few who’ll volunteer for the board of directors. Hey, Teddy.”

“Hey, Coach.” Teddy, sporting a massive gym bag, a pair of skates, and a hockey stick, smiled at Josh.

“Hey, Teddy,” Hank parroted.

The look Teddy shot him was murderous, its venom almost forcing Hank to take a step back.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Had Teddy found out about Saturday night’s kiss? Was he mad about it?

But... that didn’t jive. He’d seemed genuinely disappointed that Hank and Scott hadn’t been on a date.

So what the hell was going on?

“How are you?” Hank tried.

Teddy’s scowled deepened as he stepped past them. “Fine.”

“Is your dad around?”

“Like you care,” Teddy snapped, disappearing into the locker room a moment later.

What? What the what?

“What’d you do to piss him off?” Josh muttered.

“I have no idea.”

“There’s Scott, by the way, since you were looking for him.”

Stomach somersaulting, Hank followed Josh’s chin nod to Scott, who came through the automatic doors with his hands shoved in his coat pockets. His dark blond hair was as shaggy as Hank had ever seen it, tempting Hank to run his fingers through it to smooth it down a little. He wasn’t wearing his favorite Vancouver Orcas ball cap today, and Hank found that he missed it.

He barely registered Josh’s clap on the shoulder paired with a breezy “See you tomorrow.” He was already heading toward Scott, who hadn’t noticed him stalking him from the shadow of the vending machine.

“Hey,” Hank said, stepping into his path.

Scott jerked to a stop, and his smile was... off. Not the easy megawatt grin Hank was used to. No, this was guarded. Unnatural. Unsure.

“Hi,” Scott said.

They stood there staring at each other among the chaos of people coming and going, and if Scott hadn’t looked so uncomfortable, Hank might’ve leaned over and kissed him hello.

But with Scott shuffling from one foot to the other and with his gaze landing anywhere but on Hank, Hank wasn’t sure how to proceed.

He’d thought they’d left things in a good place on Saturday night. What had happened between then and now?

Had Scott changed his mind?

His stomach somersaulted again, for an entirely different reason this time, and he pasted on a smile. “Is everything okay with Teddy?”

“What?” Jerking to attention, Scott’s eyes finally met his. “Why? Did he get hurt? Is he sick? He was fine before I went to park?—”

“It’s nothing like that,” Hank reassured. “He just seems... mad at me? For some reason.”

“Mad at you? Why would he be—” Scott broke off, appearing to come to a realization. He let out a little laugh, and it was so much like the Scott that Hank knew—not this weird, wary version—that Hank relaxed a little. “Christ. That kid,” Scott said fondly, seemingly to himself.

Hank smiled back at him. “Care to share?”

Scott lost his smile. “It’s nothing. I’m going to grab a seat to watch Teddy’s practice. See you later, Hank.”

And he walked away, leaving Hank staring after him.

Seriously. What the what ? Why were the Jerseys acting so strange today?

Forty-eight hours ago, when Hank had left Scott’s place with his dogs, things had been good. Well, not good good. Sean had been hanging around, which meant that Hank and Scott hadn’t had privacy to talk about what that kiss meant. But they’d both been smiling and happy, and although Hank had spent the past two days asking himself what the fuck he was doing, he also couldn’t deny that he wanted to give this thing with Scott a try.

Because Scott was into him—that had been clear for a while—and Hank was equally into Scott. And what? Hank was going to sit back on his heels, pretend he didn’t want to grab this man and keep him close, all because he was afraid of being burned again?

And maybe he would get burned again, but he’d survive. Wasn’t like he’d be the first person in the world to be rejected by multiple lovers.

The thought of opening himself up to someone, though? Of being vulnerable enough to let someone get to know him?

That was scarier than being rejected.

But he was willing to try with Scott. Because Scott was the very definition of cheerfulness. He was sweet and funny and caring and so open, and when he looked at Hank, every doubt Hank had fell away until all he saw was Scott’s smile.

That cheerfulness had been missing today, though. Cursing under his breath, Hank followed after Scott.

Inside the skating arena, the Zamboni was resurfacing the ice. Scott was easy enough to spot in the small crowd waiting for U14 practice to start—there were many hockey moms, but only a handful of hockey dads, and Scott stood out with his red-and-white scarf.

One hip braced against the boards, he held court with four others, showing them something on his phone that had them all laughing.

And Hank? Well. He was instantly . . . wildly . . . incomprehensibly jealous.

Whatever Scott was showing them? He should’ve been showing Hank.

The shared laughter? The way he smiled with his eyes as well as his mouth? They should’ve been Hank’s.

God. What was wrong with him?

Wanting nothing more than to force his way to Scott’s side, he made himself wait until Scott put his phone away. Hank stepped forward, drawing Scott’s attention, and when Scott met his gaze, Hank tipped his head to the side.

Scott excused himself and joined him. “What’s up?”

“Did I—” Hank broke off to the curious eyes of several onlookers. “Uh. Let’s head up.”

They grabbed seats near the top of the stands, away from nosy ears. Once they were sitting, Hank said, “Did I do something to upset you?”

“What? No, I...” Blowing out a short breath, Scott braced his elbows on his thighs and ran both hands down his face. With the release of his breath seemed to come the release of tension, his shoulders loosening and his features becoming softer. “Sorry. I was apparently back in high school and making a bigger deal of something than I probably should’ve.”

“Something to do with me?”

Scott released a self-deprecating chuckle. “You didn’t text me back and I got all bent out of shape about it. Hence why I brushed you off earlier, and— What are you doing?”

Hank was already tapping into his texting app. “I didn’t receive a text from you. I would’ve answered it if I had.” He turned the phone toward Scott to show him the blank text screen. They’d only recently exchanged numbers and hadn’t swapped any messages yet.

Scott turned his own phone around, displaying his text screen with Hank.

Where a single message read Hey! How are you?

Confused, Hank looked between one phone to the other.

“Did my message get lost in some alternative universe?” Scott asked, sounding as bewildered as Hank felt.

A thought niggled at the back of Hank’s mind, and he tapped his name on Scott’s screen, bringing up his contact details. The number was correct, so why hadn’t Hank received his text? He brought up Scott’s contact details on his phone and showed Scott. “Is this your number?”

“No.” Scott grasped his wrist, his fingers cool on Hank’s skin.

Hank leaned closer to him, unable to stop himself.

“My last four digits are 0174, not 0177.”

Well, damn. Hank must’ve mistyped when they’d been swapping numbers. “My phone would’ve seen your text as spam,” Hank said, “and automatically hidden it from me.” He navigated to his spam folder, and sure enough, there was a Hey! How are you? message from an unknown number that had arrived yesterday afternoon.

“Oh good,” Scott said faintly. “I’ve been angsting for nothing.”

Hank winced. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I mean, it is your fault, but...” Scott waved a hand.

He seemed infinitely more at ease now, and Hank braced his elbows on his thighs, mimicking Scott’s position. He smiled into the few inches between them, inhaling Scott’s scent and noticing—for the first time—the flecks of gold in his gray-green eyes. “I’m good, by the way,” Hank said, verbally answering Scott’s text. “How are you?”

Scott’s smile was almost shy. “Good.”

“And how’s Teddy?”

“Also good. Mad at you because he thinks you don’t want me like I want you, which is really sweet when I think about it.”

Hank couldn’t imagine how Scott must’ve felt when Hank hadn’t answered his message. Hurt? Confused? Especially after that epic kiss. But that was the thing about dating, wasn’t it? It was full of uncertainties and second-guessing.

“Can we agree that an unanswered text isn’t a sign of lost interest?” Hank asked as uniformed teenagers skated onto the ice for practice. “That it’s just life getting in the way? Or, in this case—” He waved his phone. “—technology.”

“So . . . you are interested?”

Hank stared at him for a moment. Was he the only one who’d experienced that head-rocker of a kiss? “I did kiss you on Saturday, right? I didn’t dream that?”

“You did,” Scott said with a laugh. “But a kiss is just a kiss. I’m...” He swallowed hard before meeting Hank’s gaze steadily. “I’m interested in more with you, Hank. I want to get to know you. But you’ve said you’re not interested in dating, and that’s okay. So if the kiss was just a hormone-induced malfunction—a very good hormone-induced malfunction, mind you—and you don’t want to take this any further... just tell me.”

God. This man. Hank didn’t know very many people who’d lay their cards out on the table like that for someone else to accept or reject. Scott was braver than Hank had ever been or would ever be.

“You know, I’ve been pretty dead set on not dating. Getting divorced twice made me gun-shy I guess. And before you say it, I know I can date without getting married.”

Scott snorted a laugh.

“But I would like to see where this goes.” Couldn’t put his finger on why that was. All he knew was that Scott made him feel alive in a way he never had before. “As long as we take things slow?”

Scott nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. Slow is good.”

“Okay.” Hank knocked his shoulder against Scott’s. “Why don’t you, Teddy, and Fallon come over for dinner tomorrow and we can continue our friends-only non-date doggie playdate.”

Scott’s eyes widened. “Teddy too?”

“Why not?”

“I’ll ask him. He might not want to come. He knows about the kiss, and he wasn’t too impressed.”

Hank’s stomach sank, and his chest squeezed tight. “He doesn’t want us to date?” But hadn’t Scott just said that Teddy was mad at him because he thought Hank didn’t want to date his dad?

“No,” Scott interrupted, his laugh settling Hank’s doubts. “No, I mean, he knows we kissed and he doesn’t want to hear anything more about his dad kissing... well, anybody. If he doesn’t want to know about it, he probably doesn’t want to see it either, and if he thinks we’ll be kissing tomorrow...”

“Oh, there’ll definitely be kissing,” Hank muttered under his breath. “Lots and lots of kissing.”

Scott gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement.

Satisfied, Hank sat back. Scott joined him and they sat shoulder-to-shoulder, exchanging inane chatter as practice continued.