Meeting Mr. Christmas (Collier’s Creek Christmas)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Peter, stop trying to crawl under my sweater. You have a perfectly good blanket to burrow into.” Noel extracted the wriggling dog and deposited him on the floor, from where Peter gave him the side eye before digging a tunnel through not one but a pile of soft blankets.

Noel looked down at his sweater. Why any self-respecting small dog would want to crawl under it was a mystery. Slutty looking elves in tight green leggings lined up in front of a Santa who was giving off a very definite Daddy vibe in his well-filled red breeches, with suspenders which looked more like a harness, and black thigh length boots. Noel ran a finger tip over Daddy Christmas and his shiny, sequin covered boots. It really was horrible, but that was the point. He’d bought it for the tree lighting ceremony when he’d spent a couple of days at company HQ in San Diego the month before, only to shove it to the back of the closet when Jed had suggested they double date.

Noel groaned. “Kent’s got it wrong, Peter. Because how can Jed be jealous? He’s straight. He likes girls. He’s always had girlfriends. He’s never without a date. Except when he’s with me, and we’re doing stuff.”

Peter gave him the side eye. Again. Then why was he acting all jealous and super pissy? Huh? Got no answer for that, have ya? Yeah, that gotcha. Don’t you know I ’ m waiting for my second breakfast? Why are you starving me to death?

Noel shook his head. How could Peter say all that in one side eye?

“He wasn’t acting jealous, okay? He had a bad day at work.”

Peter snorted. Did miniature dachshunds snort? “Ah, Jesus.” Noel jumped up and flung the window open, letting the freezing air flood in. They might not snort, but they sure did fart.

“You know, I could have got myself a miniature poodle, or a Bichon. Or even a house rabbit. But no, I got you. And you repay me by arguing and farting and?—”

Peter balanced himself on his stumpy hind legs, waggling his ridiculous oversized front paws in time to his whimpers.

“And you’re constantly angling for treats. I will not give in.”

Peter’s whimpers grew louder, his balance more wobbly, his big melted chocolate eyes more beseeching. Noel would not give in.

He gave in.

As Peter crunched down on his treat, Noel gazed out on the quiet street, his thoughts turning back to Jed.

No, whatever Kent thought he saw, he was wrong. “Just wanted an easy way to get out of seeing me again,” he murmured, his warm breath misting the window. Jed might be his secret — and hopeless — fantasy, but he sure wasn’t Jed’s. If he were, he’d know, because that was all part of being best friends — they knew everything about each other, about how they thought, about what they wanted in life.

Noel sighed. Okay, Jed might not know what his secret was, what he thought, or what he wanted, but what he knew for sure was that Jed didn’t harbor a secret desire to find out about the joys of cock. His or anybody else’s.

“We’re friends, Peter. That’s all. It doesn’t matter what I want, that’s how it is and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

Peter stared at him as he carried on crunching down on his treat.

“And you know what best friends do? They have lunch.”

Peter snorted again. Noel was sure he did, but it turned to a yelp of excitement as Noel grinned, picking up Peter’s leash and his new Christmas themed doggie coat.

“Hello, Noel. And Peter, too.” Lucian rushed around the counter and sat on his haunches, making a fuss over the little dog. “You are so unbelievably cute.” Peter wagged his tail hard. If dogs could preen, Peter was preening for all he was worth. “Are you here for Jed?” Lucian got to his feet. “He’s just making a few deliveries, but he should be back shortly. I’m just about to have a nice cup of Earl Grey. Would you like one, too? We always have some doggie treats as well, out the back.”

Very posh, very quirky, and very English, Lucian Blaxston, soon to be Lucian Blaxston-McDonald when he married his fiancé Arlo, who was an old family friend of the Masons. Noel liked Lucian. The guy was always friendly, but Lucian always made him feel like he should drop into a curtsey and address him as m ’ lord .

“I am, and no thanks. To the tea, I mean. And Peter’s had his treats for today.” Peter whined and tried to look pathetic. Lucian laughed.

“Make sure he knows who’s boss. It’s the only way to be with dogs.”

Noel looked down at Peter. They both knew who was the boss, that was for sure.

“Are you certain about the tea?”

“I am. But thanks.” He’d made the mistake of accepting a cup once before when he’d stopped by to see Jed, and he’d vowed never to go near the noxious, weirdly perfumed brew ever again. “Erm, will he be free for his lunch break?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Noel swung around just as the door jangled open. Jed paused in the doorway. A light flush colored his cheeks as a tentative smile lifted his lips.

“Hi.” Jed closed the door, blocking out the steadily falling snow. He pushed his hands into his coat pockets and sucked on his lower lip.

“Noel’s come to take you to lunch, although it’s looking rather ghastly out there. Honestly, we never, ever, get this amount of snow in the Home Counties. I’m really not sure if I’ll ever get used to it.”

Lucian’s cut glass accent sliced through the silence that had fallen as deep as the snow. Noel had no idea what or where the Home Counties were?—

“You’re welcome to make yourself some lunch here. There’s soup, and plenty of bread. Cheese. And Marmite?—”

“No!” Noel and Jed barked together. Noel might not know what the Home Counties were, but he knew Marmite and was in no hurry to renew the acquaintance. How could anybody spread the tar-like, salty so-strong-it-blew-your-head-apart goo over bread? Jed said it was a British thing. A very weird British thing.

Lucian tried to look affronted before he grinned. “I’ll make a convert of you yet. Both of you. Off you go, then.” Lucian ushered them out of the door.

CC’s was nearest, and as they ducked through the door, Noel breathed deep and hummed his appreciation. Santa’s Special Hot Chocolate was a sweet and delicious seasonal favorite, and his mouth was already watering in anticipation. Taking off his coat, he shook off the snowflakes, looking up as Jed started laughing.

“That is one hell of an ugly Christmas sweater. What is that?” Jed leaned forward. “Oh my god. Are you really wearing a bondage Santa? It’s so ugly it’s beautiful, but it’s nowhere near as ugly as this one.” Jed smirked as he slowly unbuttoned his coat, his gaze never leaving Noel, who gulped. It was like the start of one of the movies he had stashed on his porn only laptop. Heat rippled through him, making straight for his cock which, thank the lord, was hidden beneath his baggy sweatpants and the sweater which reached halfway down his thighs.

Just best friends? Are you sure about that?

Kent’s words, just a couple or so days old, laughed in his ear. A shiver ran down Noel’s spine. Yes, he was sure. Of course he was…

“Well?”

Noel blinked himself out of his daydream.

Jesus…

“That is… indescribable.”

And it was, if indescribable described a cross-eyed turkey with a red and veiny neck that looked way more like a big, fat, and very erect, uncut dick.

“What can I get you boys—shit! What is…? No, don’t answer.” Cameron fell back a couple of steps, his eyes wide and his mouth slack as he stared in dumb wonder at Jed’s chest.

“A gobbler.”

“It… it sure is…” Cameron blinked as he grappled to find his voice.

The coffee shop door clattered open, bringing with it the chatter of a couple of women and some pre-schoolers squealing for hot chocolate and cookies. Cameron jerked out of his paralysis. “Do you think you could…” he waved his hand towards Jed.

“Go show those pretty young moms my impressive gobbler? Sure I can.” Jed laughed as the color drained from Cameron’s face. “Hey, don’t pass out on me. I’ll take it off. Don’t want to scare the good folks of the Creek.”

Jed peeled off the sweater, revealing a black polo shirt with the florist’s logo on the chest that wrapped itself around Jed’s taut, muscular torso. His hair, though short, stood up in little peaks. Without thinking, Noel flattened them down. He’d flattened them down hundreds, thousands, millions of times before, just like Jed had ruffled his hair, hundreds, thousands, millions of times throughout their lives. He looked up as Jed tucked the sweater down next to him, his mouth drying as he met Cameron’s eye. The man’s lips curved up in a warm smile. Cameron’s eyes narrowed, just the tiniest fraction. Just friends, eh?

They placed their orders, and Cameron left them, taking his knowing smile with him.

“Hey,” Jed said quietly, “I’m glad we got to wear our Christmas sweaters, even if it wasn’t at the tree lighting. Mine is gross and a moral danger to young moms, whereas yours is just kinky, which kinda means lunch is on you.”

Noel looked up, ready to tell Jed that yes, he had won hands down with his giant gobbler, but the joke died on his lips as his gaze met Jed’s.

Jed was staring at him, serious and with an intensity that sent his heart plummeting. It was like being on a rollercoaster ride at the moment the car halted, just for a second, at the very top, before tipping over the apex and hurtling down.

“I tried to convince myself double dating would be fun. Guess I didn’t succeed. I knew it was a bad idea as soon as you turned up with Ken. I’m sorry.”

“It’s Kent.”

“With a ‘t’.”

They both smiled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Noel said, his voice as quiet as Jed’s.

“Isn’t there? Because I think there is.” The smile died from Jed’s lips. “The tree lighting was always our thing. Even my mom was surprised.” He shrugged before he looked away and began chewing at the side of his thumbnail. It was a nervous habit, and one Noel knew well. He eased Jed’s hand away.

“I’ve had better tree ceremonies, but…” Noel shrugged. “But like you said, we got to wear our sweaters even if it wasn’t at the tree lighting.”

“I think they would have frightened our dates. Not that Cora can be called that anymore.”

“Oh.” Noel’s rollercoaster heart did a loop the loop. He waited a second to get his nerves under control. “She was nice. And she seemed eager.”

“She is, and she was.”

Was nice… was eager…

“You made any arrangements yet with?—”

“Kent. No. We, erm, agreed it wasn’t going to work out. We’ll stay friends, though.” Noel wasn’t so sure about that.

“I’m sorry.” Jed turned his head aside, but not enough for Noel to miss the grin he was attempting to tamp down.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” Jed paused, sucking in a breath before turning back. “Okay. You’re right. I’m not. He wasn’t as bad as Dougal MacDouglas, and some of those other losers you called your boyfriends, but he just wasn’t your type. He wasn’t the guy you’re looking for, believe me.”

“So who is it I’m looking for?” Noel’s heart hammered so hard it almost crashed through his ribs as the words tumbled from his lips. Oh, shit. He hadn’t meant to say them, hadn’t meant to say them at all. He wanted to grab them back as much as he didn’t. But it was too late.

Jed said nothing for a moment, his dark gray eyes holding Noel captive. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, measured, serious. “I guess you’ll know when you finally meet him.”

Noel looked away, no longer able to hold Jed’s gaze. Because what if he already had?