Havoc for the Holidays (Home for the Holidays)

8. Ezechiel

Chapter eight

Ezechiel

I glanced toward the passenger seat as we pulled out onto the road and could barely contain my smile. This was not at all how I expected our evening to go, nor did I actually expect him to concede so easily to my proposal, but here he was, in my car, as we headed back toward my house with a fancy meal in the backseat. I wanted so badly to reach out and grab his hand to offer some sort of comfort for his distress, but I had to play my cards carefully. He was better now than he was earlier, but obviously, something was bothering him and I didn't want to make it worse.

My home wasn't all that far away, but I took the opportunity to drive slowly and revel in the strange intimacy that came with sharing a small space filled with the anticipation of what was to come. Even if all we did was share a meal, I'd be over the moon. This shy, enigmatic man with the weight of the world on his shoulders had me fascinated. To be completely honest, the urge to wrap him up and hold him close was strong. He hadn't wanted me to see his breakdown, but now that I had, I wanted to find some way of easing his troubles.

His quiet contemplation didn't ease my worries much. Judging by how he fidgeted and readjusted his weight in the seat, he was still troubled. I had to believe we would be able to resurrect the excitement and anticipation of our date once we got back to my place. As I flicked on the blinker and slowed to make the turn, he perked up in his seat.

“Oh, I completely forgot—are you staying in one of those adorable cabins? The ones your mom owns?”

“Indeed, I am.” I chanced another glance and was rewarded with one of his priceless, unfettered smiles.

“I take Becs over every Christmas once your mom gets them all decorated for the holidays. She calls them the gingerbread houses. Are they as cute on the inside as they are on the outside?”

His childlike joy was infectious and heartwarming. “I think so, but I might be biased. Would you both like to come over and put up the decorations this year? Mom has volunteered me to help.”

“Oh! Oh, yes! You don't mind? She wouldn't mind?” He nearly bounced in his seat as I pulled up to my cottage and killed the engine. The lane running through my mother’s property was dotted with at least a dozen similar cottages, but this guest cottage was the largest and closest to the main house. It was also the only one that she never rented out to tourists. I think in her mind, it was always mine.

“Come on, before the food gets any colder.” I popped my door open and smiled before climbing out. He hurried to follow, meeting me at the steps as I juggled the large bag containing our dinner. “I have a few bottles of beer in the fridge, plus a bottle of wine mom sent over the other day.”

“Oh… oh. That’s… sure. Whatever you're drinking is fine with me.” Even in the darkness, I could tell he was blushing. Once I got the door open, the light confirmed my suspicions. He was as rosy as a peach.

“What’s got you flushed, doll?”

“I'm not actually a big drinker. I mean, I do sometimes but not often.” He ruffled his hair before shifting to the side to kick his shoes off. “I just never have the time.”

“Right. I keep forgetting it's different for parents.” I contemplated avoiding the question I'd been pondering since the day I first met him, but if we were going to give this thing a real shot, I figured it would need to be asked sooner or later. I beckoned him into the kitchen and set the bags on the table before going in search of plates as I voiced the difficult personal question.

“Is her mother not in the picture? I suppose you don't have to answer but…”

“No, you should know. I mean, everyone does. Small towns are like that.” He shrugged and fiddled with the edge of the countertop before continuing in a quieter voice. “Prom night mistakes turned into life changing consequences. We were sixteen.”

“That’s…” I whistled low under my breath. “That’s tough.”

He nodded and flashed a shy grin. “It was. We talked about different options, but I knew even then that I wanted a family. She wasn't ready for parenthood, but I didn't want my child being adopted. So she signed over her rights to me once Rebecca was born. Cut and dry. My parents were a huge help.”

“Jesus, I can't even imagine.” I paused with the plates in my hands and truly tried to put myself in his shoes. A teenager with a newborn baby? My biggest worries as a teenager were what party I wanted to hit up on the weekend and how late I could sleep in and still make it to school on time. My admiration for him skyrocketed instantly.

“I wouldn’t change it for the world. She is my world.” He reached out and took the plates with a smile. “You can ask me anything. You know that, right?”

“Same, doll.” I winked and turned to fetch silverware.

“Okay then. Why me?” He turned his back to me and set the plates on the table before taking the to-go containers from the bag.

I blinked at the back of his head before letting a chuckle slip from my lips. When he turned to me with a devastated look on his face, I quickly stifled the sound.

“I'm not laughing at you, Olls.” The distance between us evaporated as I strode across the kitchen, set the utensils down, and cupped his cheeks in my hands. “I'd never laugh at you. As far as the answer to your question… because you're adorable, fascinating, gorgeous, smart, and so incredibly fun to be around.”

“Oh…”

“Oh, indeed. See? Adorable.” I leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Cute as a damn button. Now let's eat before I say screw the food.”

He inhaled a soft breath and grinned, looking bashful and happy and so damn sweet, all I wanted to do was wreck him. I had a hunch he looked absolutely delicious after a good roll between the sheets. He was already damn near irresistible—the possibilities had me ready to drag him to my room straight away and see just how accurate my suspicions were.

“Right. Dinner. Lord,” he backed away one step and fanned his face with a laugh. “I don't think I'm prepared for what you have in mind, judging by the look in your eyes.”

“No pressure, okay? Do I want to ravage you this very instant? Absolutely. But please believe me when I say, I'm not in a rush. Even if all we do is eat and talk and maybe get a little frisky on the couch, I'm more than happy.” I tugged one of the chairs out and gestured for him to take a seat. He waved me off with a laugh before sitting.

“Sir, with all due respect, I am hoping for more than a little ‘frisky’ action.” He winked at me once I was seated opposite him. “I'm not a prude. I might not have dated in years but trust me when I say I haven't gone without.”

“Well, well, well. Aren't you full of secrets, Mr. Branson.” I focused on dishing out my food as he did the same, continuing only once we were settled. “Care to elaborate?”

“My parents were very understanding. My friends too. Every so often, I was encouraged to take a weekend to myself.” He shrugged and examined a string bean at the end of his fork. “We might be in our own little picturesque world here on the mountaintop, but the capital is only an hour away.”

“For some reason, I can't picture you hitting the clubs or hookup apps. There's a disconnect for me.” I waggled my knife at him. “Tell me it isn't true?”

“Oh, well. Mostly dance clubs, actually. Especially once I turned eighteen. I'd always been a little… curious? My first solo weekend once I was old enough to get in for the open entry nights was all the confirmation I needed.” He shrugged again, biting his lower lip. Judging by the flush on his cheeks, Oliver certainly had some interesting stories tucked away in that pretty little head of his.

“Color me curious.”

“It's a good color for you.” His smile turned smug as he dug into his dinner. I followed suit with a laugh. He was a breath of fresh air, and seeing him slowly relax and peel back the complex layers of his personality was exhilarating. For as much as I liked to flirt and test his boundaries and see how much I could fluster him, I also enjoyed these candid, relaxed moments that revealed so much more about him. To say I was growing fixated wouldn't quite be accurate. Honestly, I couldn't get enough.

“This is amazing, Ez. It's so nice to have a proper meal without constantly being on. And string beans. God, I love string beans.”

“You don't have them regularly?” I boggled at the strange comment.

“It's easier not to. Becs hates them and I never wanted to get myself in the position of having to prepare separate meals. After a while, I stopped trying. She likes most vegetables so it wasn't like it was a huge sacrifice.”

“Huh. Note to self: prepare string beans every time I can steal you away for dinner.”

He laughed, rich and loud. The sound brought a warmth to my chest as I became infected by the sound. We laughed until there were tears in our eyes, and then some more.

“You really know the way to a man’s heart, Ez.” He wiped his eyes, his smile never fading. “I really enjoyed tonight. Thank you.”

“Question—is it apropos to ask for a kiss on the second date?”

He bit his lower lip, causing his cheeks to plump even more as he grinned. Before I realized what was happening, he was out of his seat, around the table, and standing between my knees.

“Don't ask. Just do.” His words were quiet, confident, and so wholly uncharacteristic, I was swept off my feet, figuratively. Thank God I was still seated, because the way he grabbed my face in his hands and blanketed my lips with his would have my knees giving out. Oliver Branson might have been shy, awkward, and prone to fluster, but when he put his mind to something, he went for it no holds barred.

In a move that should have been criminal for how sexy it was, he shifted closer, swinging his legs to straddle my lap as he deepened the kiss. It was one of the most arousing things in recent memory and we hadn't even taken our clothes off. In an instant, I had my hands on his body to pull him closer and I groaned as his tongue swept over my lips to demand entrance. It was a demand I was more than happy to concede to. The tangle of our tongues and his weight on my lap had my pulse skyrocketing and my blood running hot in my veins. My infatuation with the shy, sweet redhead instantly turned into primal lust as he commanded the kiss and ravished every inch of my willing and eager mouth with his tongue.

He broke away with a gasp to let his lips travel over my cheek and along my jaw. “I got tested a few months back. All good. No one since.”

“Nngh, fuck…” I battled to return his attention in the same way, letting my lips find his pulse with another groan. “All good. I hit the clinic before I came here.”

“Good.” He cupped my chin and turned my face till we made eye contact. “Preferences?”

“Uh… oh!” I huffed out a breathless laugh as I gripped his ass in my hands with a squeeze. “Honestly? Top, bottom, side—it all works for me.”

“God, you're so attractive and just got even more so.” He dove in for another kiss, ravishing me until my eyes rolled back in my head and my dick ached in my jeans. Once he pulled away with a wicked grin, I knew I wouldn't survive him. He had the potential to ruin me for any other man and I couldn't care less.

“Vers, for the record but I do like topping most of all.”

“Ollie, fuck… you're full of surprises.”

Mnn… I've been told that before.” He gave a subtle roll of his hips with a crooked grin. “Shy doesn't always equal submissive, Ez.”

“I couldn't be happier to learn this very important lesson.” I responded to his movements with a jerk of my own hips. “I still want to take you apart until you can't even remember your own name.”

“Good thing I'm a big fan of the flip-fuck.”

“Jesus Christ, who are you and what have you done with my date?”

“This is me. The real me. Once I get comfortable enough—shit… shit, I'm sorry.” He twisted and squirmed until he could pull his cell from his front pocket. My dick loved every minute of it while simultaneously begging for more, more, more.

“Oh, shit.” He nearly fumbled his phone in his haste to answer. “Hello?”

I couldn't make out the words on the other end of the line, but the rapid change in Ollie's expression instantly doused my wildfire lust.

“No, I'm on my way. I’ll be there as fast as I can. I'm so sorry, Linc. Tell her I'm coming.”

He hung up the phone with a sigh and leaned forward to rest his head against my shoulder.

“Everything okay?” I ran my hands up and down his back in slow, soothing movements.

“Becs got sick after the girls snuck a dozen donuts Chip made.” He sighed again and nuzzled my neck with a gentle, subdued movement. “I'm so sorry.”

“Hey, no. It happens. Remember? We talked about this. Becs is priority and if she's ill, that's top-top priority.” I slipped my arms around his body and squeezed him close. Was I disappointed? Absolutely. Ollie was beyond disappointed. He was downright devastated. “Let's get you to your car, Olls.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

He withdrew into himself so quickly, my heart rang countless alarm bells, but the fact that he reached out and held my hand for the entire drive to his vehicle in the restaurant parking lot kept the hope burning. One taste of this man and I was hooked. One look at his remorseful face as he reached for the car door had me falling. I stopped him before he could escape and sealed our mouths together in a kiss. Not one driven my passion or lust, but one driven by promise. It was an unspoken one, but his soft smile and crinkled eyes as he pulled away convinced me he knew exactly what I was trying to convey. I wasn't ready to walk away. Not after getting a glimpse of the man hidden inside.