Deck the Fire Halls

Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

ROB

“You were right about everything,” I said.

Soren and I were walking home. It really wasn’t far and the snow wasn’t too icy—I only almost slipped a few times—and despite the cold, it was a beautiful night.

“About everything?” he asked. “That the Flames are better than the Canucks? Because yes, that’s correct.”

I snorted. “Okay, so not everything.”

He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “About what then?”

“Tonight,” I replied. “That it’d be fun. That the whole town would be as pretty as a Christmas picture. That the group of guys you were introducing me to were great. That Gunter’s organization is something I could be interested in.” Then I shrugged. “And that Hamish is a little weird.” I waited for his eyes to meet mine before I laughed. “Just kidding. He seems totally nice.”

He grinned at me. “He is. His husband is too. Ren. ”

“From the hardware store,” I added. “See? I’m learning.”

Soren grinned. “You’ll be a local before you know it.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I’m glad you and Gunter hit it off. I thought you might, and he’s been working hard at getting his little center up and running.”

“I’m going to stop in on my day off,” I admitted. “Well, one of my days off. I have four days off a week, which is more than I’ve had in the entirety of the last decade, so...”

“Four days off in ten years?” He made a face. “No wonder you said you were burned out.”

I gave him a sad smile. I was about to say it wasn’t the hours that got me in the end but didn’t want to ruin the mood. “Yep. Actual days off. I won’t know what to do with myself, so helping out seems like a good place to start. Gunter said it was rewarding. He retired early and wanted to give something back. That’s kinda remarkable.”

“Some people’ll surprise ya,” he said as he stopped walking. “There are some truly decent people in this town.”

I looked up and down the street. Houses with warm Christmas lights in their windows, looking cozy against the dark and cold, and utter silence. It was so peaceful and serene. Hell, even this street looked like a scene from a Christmas movie.

Then I realized we’d stopped in front of his house. “Oh.” Then I noticed he also had Christmas lights in his window. “You have lights up.” Then I realized something else kind of horrifying. “Am I the only one who doesn’t?”

Soren chuckled. “Maybe. But you just moved in, so they’ll keep the pitchforks at bay for a few days.”

I made a face. “I better get busy on my days off. Tell me, where does one buy Christmas lights in Hartbridge? Is the Home Mart my only option? Should I notify the pitchfork hoards that I may have to order them online and to expect a short delay? And a tree. I guess I’ll need one of those too, lest they forgo in-house inspections, and I won’t be burned at the stake in the town square.” I faked a gasp, my hand to my chest. “Oh my god. Is that Hartbridge’s deep dark secret? Little town appears perfect on the outside but harbors an insidious underbelly of Christmas rituals, and anyone who doesn’t conform to supply the most perfect Christmas decorations will be sacrificed to the Christmas elves.”

Soren snorted. “Yep. That’s it. Christmas elves come kidnap you, and while there’s not burning at the stake, they will torture you with Mariah Carey’s Christmas hits album, non-stop until you beg for mercy.”

I clutched at my chest. “Oh, the horror.”

He smiled, his breath leaving him in a plume of steam. The tip of his nose and ears were pink. His eyes met mine and for a heart-stopping moment, neither of us spoke. I almost asked him if he wanted to come in for a drink, or a kiss, or an entire night of wild sex... It shocked me that I’d think that. That I would even want that.

And yeah, I think I wanted that.

Hell yes you do, Robinson. That thump-thump of your heart right now is anticipation and desire. I know it’s been a while, but you remember how those things feel, right?

“I better go,” Soren said quietly. He looked a little torn and I regretted my indecision. He took a step back. “Before, um... before...”

“Before?”

He took another step back. “Before it gets late. Or something.” He almost tripped on a clump of snow by his driveway.

“Oh, be careful,” I said, kinda reaching for him but not close enough.

He laughed and looked at where he was putting his feet when he stepped back again. “Good night, Rob.”

“Night.” When he got to his porch, I remembered my manners. “Thank you, for tonight. I had a great time.”

His grin lit up his entire face. “I’m glad. I’ll see you... tomorrow or something.”

I nodded, looking forward to it already. “Or something.”

I took myself home, smiling as I unlocked my front door and kicked off my boots. I smiled at my cute house, welcoming and warm, and I was still smiling as I climbed into bed.

I hadn’t been expecting to enjoy myself tonight. To be honest, when Soren had told me he was introducing me to a bunch of guys at a town Christmas tree lighting night, I’d very wrongly assumed it was going to be awkward and lame.

Oh, how wrong I’d been.

The guys were great. Well, what I knew of them so far. I was shocked that this little town had its own circle of queer couples, and I was shocked to find how much I liked them already.

Most circles of rich doctor friends I’d had back in Seattle consisted of pretentious social climbers and superficial snobs. Fine for a dinner party and a few glasses of wine, then after I’d leave early, I’d need a week to take the knives out of my back.

These Hartbridge guys didn’t seem like that at all.

I really liked Gunter and Clay. I could see why Soren might think Gunter and I would get along. We were closer in age, probably. Closer in mental age, anyway. Definitely both quieter, introverted serious types, while Hamish and Braithe were the extroverts for sure.

Soren was definitely more at ease talking to the deputy, Colson, and Ren the hardware guy. And he’d been laughing with Clay when I’d seen him outside the fire station in the morning.

He seemed to fall into stride with the tops of the group, that was for sure. Not that I was presuming...

Yes you are. You’re presuming and stereotyping.

No I’m not.

Yes, you ? —

No, it’s called wishful thinking.

Wishful what?

Wishful thinking. You want him to be a top so he can take you to bed and rail you so thoroughly.

Oh my god. That’s not ? —

You can’t lie to me. I’m literally your brain.

I pulled my pillow over my face. Shut up. It’s just... he’s sexy and flirty and it feels good to.. .

To what?

To feel something.

I bet you want to feel his something.

“Oh, shut up,” I said, rolling onto my side. “You’re having conversations with your subconscious. Never a good sign.” I sighed, realizing I was now talking out loud to myself.

This was ridiculous and absurd.

And yet, I was still smiling.

That wasn’t good.

Doctor Humphries was in his office when I arrived. He was an absolute gentleman. From that generation of understated men who dressed well, tipped their hats to women, and spoke well-chosen words.

Except now he was muttering to himself.

I cleared my throat, not wanting to startle him. “Everything okay?”

He laughed as he hung his hat and scarf. “Just talking to myself,” he said.

I almost laughed. I hadn’t really intended to bring it up, but now that he’d mentioned it... “Oh. Uh. Funny you should mention talking to yourself.”

He paused as he hung his coat. “And why would that be funny?”

“Well, I, uh...” Jeez. There was no other way to say this. “I have found myself having conversations with myself a lot in the last few days.”

His faded blue eyes sparkled as he hung his coat. “Don’t suppose you’ve been answering yourself too? ”

“Well, actually, yes.”

He stopped then, when he realized I was being serious. “Listen, Doctor O’Reilly. I’m gonna tell you a little secret.” He slowly put on his white doctor coat. “I talk to myself all the time. And I answer myself too, and I haven’t found any reason for concern yet. Some days it’s the most intelligent conversation we can have.” He winked.

“Oh.” I hadn’t been expecting his sense of humor.

He smiled as he shook his head. “You’re a good doctor and you’ve just left a high-stress, fast-paced career and moved to a new town with a population smaller than the number of people who probably lived in your old apartment building. You’re allowed to be questioning things in your head, sorting out your thoughts, and putting them in order.”

“I guess . . .”

“Do the conversations with yourself invoke thoughts of concern? For your well-being or safety of others?

“What? Oh no. No, nothing like that. It’s just me, and the voice in my head telling me I might actually be happy here, if I give it a chance.”

He smiled then and nodded sagely. “Sounds like good advice.”

I tried to smile in return. “Well, maybe... I just... I’m not really in the habit of having full conversations with myself in bed at night.” I regretted saying that second part the moment it was out of my mouth. “Sorry. That was too much information.”

Doctor Humphries studied me for a long while. “I can see you’re worried, so I tell you what,” he said. “If you think there’s any reason for concern, and if it escalates, or if the conversations in your head start to involve voices other than your own, then come let me know. But for now, just give yourself a few more days to settle in. You’re probably out of routine, in a new place, meeting new people. New job.” He gestured at his office, to the clinic. “I think you’ll be fine.”

It was hard not to be reassured by him. He was so good at this. Because I did feel better. Kind of. “Okay, thanks.”

“And for what it’s worth,” he said gently, “I think your subconscious is right.”

“My what?”

“The voice in your head with which you’ve been having conversations.”

“Of course.” Right. Yes. “Uh, which part, exactly?”

“Where you were telling yourself to give Hartbridge a chance.”

Now my smile was more genuine. “Gonna give it my best.”

“Good,” he replied, just as Katie arrived and our day began. It was a relaxed day with a steady stream of patients, and Katie kept everything running like a well-oiled machine. Me included.

And I liked it. The way she structured my day really suited me. I liked the no-nonsense professional but still polite way Katie did everything. I liked her. Everyone did.

My day was a breeze.

I got home with enough time and energy to make myself a delicious dinner of chicken, pasta, and salad. Even poured a glass of wine and watched some ridiculous show on Netflix.

It was glorious.

In my old life, I’d be home by maybe midnight if I was lucky, eat something out of a can or a frozen dinner, and collapse into bed.

Now I had my feet up on the coffee table, glass of wine in my hand, laughing at a TV comedy show that everyone’d raved about a decade ago that I was only now getting to watch.

And, and this was the crazy part, I had tomorrow off work.

In fact, I had the next four days off work.

I still couldn’t get my head around it.

I had plans. Well, plans that consisted of a trip to Home Mart for groceries and Christmas decorations. I could even go for a drive through the surrounding towns, see some sights, and get my bearings.

Four whole days. And not just once, but every week.

I was just about giddy with the realization.

It wasn’t until I was in bed that it occurred to me that I hadn’t heard Soren’s bike. Surely I’d have heard him... Was his bike parked at his house when I’d come home? I couldn’t remember seeing it. Was he out somewhere? Was he out fighting a fire? Was he okay?

That was a stupid line of thought, because why wouldn’t he be okay? Why was I concerned about his safety?

He could be out on a date for all I knew...

On a date . . .

With someone else. Someone who was not me. Was he... was he smiling at them the way he smiled at me? Looking at them with those intense eyes?

Was he . . . ?

Why was I thinking about that?

Soren was free to do whatever he wanted, free to see whomever he wanted. He was free to look at anyone the way he looked at me. Hell, maybe he was...

Maybe I was overreacting.

There’s no maybe about it, Robinson. You are overreacting. You’re thinking about him in ways you’re not entitled to be ? —

“Oh, shut up,” I said out loud. “You were on my side last night.”

The voice in my head shut up, as asked. And I made the mental note to maybe tell Doctor Humphries that my late-night conversations with my subconscious had taken a snarky turn.

The problem with being efficient and an over achiever, and used to having zero time to spare and running on fumes, meant that I’d had breakfast and been to the Home Mart and was home again all before 8:00 a.m.

I put my few groceries away, made myself another coffee, and stared at the few boxes of new Christmas decorations, which sat on the dining table.

I could begin putting up lights out front but then I’d have everything on my to-do list done by midday, and then what would I do with the other three and a half days off?

Plus, I reasoned, maybe I could ask my neighbor for some help. A certain neighbor who was handy with ladders and whatnot. Like a firefighter, perhaps.

Oh, and I’d need a Christmas tree.

I figured I could stop by Gunter’s center to see it in action, and asking about finding a tree would be a good ice breaker. His boyfriend Clay was the one to ask, apparently, but Gunter would be a good place to start.

The center was just off Main Street. Unsurprisingly, most things in Hartbridge were. But this was a short-paved alley on the river side that could be a short mall if it tried harder. It was past the menswear store and the hairdresser, at the end of the dead end. The store directly next to it was empty, same as the one across from it. It was a quiet, tucked-away spot, and the trees and river on the other side made for privacy and it was perfect for a youth center.

The store front was glass, and maybe it had once been an office at some point. I opened the door and stuck my head in. Gunter was sliding a box onto one of the tables and he grinned when he saw me.

“Hey,” he said.

“You open?” I asked. It was only nine o’clock in the morning after all.

“Sure, sure,” he said, gesturing for me to come in. “Please, come in.”

The space itself was maybe fifteen feet across and twice that long. There were bookshelves and beanbags, a small kitchenette, and what looked like an office at the back. There were posters on the walls, some pride flags, and some brochure racks with mental health cards and some sexual health ones too.

“Great place,” I said.

He sighed as he looked around, smiling, proud. “Thanks. It’s early days and I’m still getting it set up. There’s a lot to do, but I’m happy with how it’s going so far.”

“Anything I can help with?” I didn’t know why I felt so nervous. Almost as if I was asking if we could hang out, which was weird. We were both adults. I was a doctor, for Pete’s sake. “I uh... I have actual days off for the first time ever and I’m not entirely sure what to do with myself. I had a to-do list for my first day off and was kinda done by eight, so...”

Gunter laughed. “So you’re like me. You can’t sit still, need to be productive.”

“I guess, yeah. I rarely had any time off before, and if I did have a day, I slept.”

“Sounds brutal.”

“It was.” I made a face. “Hence why I’m here.”

His smile was warm and knowing. “I totally get it. I moved here, bought a fixer-upper, and buried myself in renovation work, and when the house was done, I started on the gardens, and when that was done, I tried to relax. I retired early, right? To spend my days leisurely doing whatever I felt like, but I was stir crazy after six months. Clay suggested I look into doing something community-based, and so I jumped right into this.” He gestured around at the room. “Took a bit of red tape and background work, but here I am. ”

I found myself smiling. “I love that. I get the whole doing-something-community-based thing. I mentioned something similar to Soren and he thought helping out here would be good for me.” I shoved my hands into my back pockets, nervous again. Or still. “That’s why he introduced us the other night.”

His eyes sparkled as he gave me a nod. “Ah, Soren. You’re neighbors, right?”

My cheeks burned with . . . something akin to embarrassment. “Yes. He’s, uh . . . he seems nice.”

Gunter found that funny. “Nice, yes.” Then he whispered, “Also a hot-as-hell firefighter. And he’s single.”

My face burned brighter. “So I heard.”

He chuckled, but maybe for the sake of my embarrassment, he dropped the suggestiveness. “But seriously, he’s a nice guy. I don’t know him that well. Clay does. He works with him from time to time, you know, with forestry and fires, etcetera. He’s become pretty good friends with Colson too, which is nice. He actually hasn’t been in town too long. About the same as me, and I’m glad his circle now includes ours. Kinda need that, right?”

He meant his queer group of friends, his own little queer community.

“Never really had that,” I admitted. “I mean, I did, but not really. My circle of friends was mostly doctors and there was no social life to speak of. No dating, even. Just casual... acquaintances.”

His smirk told me he knew what I meant. “Ah, yes. Acquaintances of the Grindr community.”

“They would be the ones.” I snorted. “The Venn diagram of my community of friends and Grindr dates is pretty much one circle.”

Gunter laughed. “Well, there’s a community of friends here if you want. Though I should probably warn you about Hamish.”

I snorted at that. “Soren said something similar.”

“Nah, I’m just joking. He’s great. He’s one of my dearest friends now. We’re actually meeting for dinner tonight at the diner. You’re more than welcome to join us. There’ll be a few of us. We try to catch up once a week or so, and with Christmas coming, Jayden and Cass get super busy so we need to get in early.”

Oh.

“Oh, uh...” Could I join them? Did I want to? Hell yes, I really did. “That’d be nice, actually. I’d like that.”

Gunter grinned. “Great.”

He opened the box on the table, pulled out a roll of green and red tinsel, and handed it to me. “What are your Christmas decorating skills like?”

“I’m going to be very honest with you when I say below average.”

“Perfect,” he said with a chuckle. “Oh, and Soren’s already invited to dinner tonight so you don’t have to ask him.”