Tastes Like Sugar (Collier’s Creek Christmas)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SULLY

It feels like I’m in an alternate universe. It’s the only explanation for the level of intensity and the sheer amount of shit talk and gossip I’m witnessing.

This knitting group that Hayes is a member of is… well, interesting. And while I have no intention of joining the group ever again—it took me just fifteen minutes and an epic fail trying to use needles to make that decision—it’s been fun to watch.

Francine is apparently the queen bee of everything. I’ve heard her name mentioned a few times in the past month of being in town. She seems friendly enough in a severe kind of way.

There are also a couple of older residents, as well as Mr. DuPont, who I previously met. But what surprised me is that, as well as Hayes being here, there’s also Ben—who apparently manages to drag his husband, the sheriff, along—and there’s also a really nice guy called Greg.

It’s definitely an eclectic mix, and it’s not even a full house, as several other members of the group are absent for one reason or another.

I’ve already been put under the microscope by Francine, and I think I passed the test. I’m here simply as a new resident, checking out what the locals do, and as Hayes’s friend.

Yeah, I suck and still haven’t spoken to my sister. In fairness, she’s barely been home. She’s heavily involved in the tree-lighting ceremony/bash/festival (I have no idea what it’s officially called), which I’ve discovered is a big deal in Collier’s Creek.

All the locals attend, and they have stalls and live music. It sounds fun. I’ve already been roped into helping Hayes, who has a stall, sell as many calendars as possible. And no, I still haven’t gotten a look at any of his photographs yet. It’s on my to-do list.

I sip at my beer, grateful I chose the meet-up that took place in the bar. The group selects different locations around town. It’s kind of sweet the way they spread their love around to the different businesses.

At my right, Ben leans over to look at my disaster of an attempt at knitting. His eyes widen slightly before a slow grin spreads across his face.

“Oh, wow,” Ben says, fighting to keep his tone serious. “This is… creative. I mean, I’ve never seen a stitch quite like this one before. Are you going for abstract or is this just… experimental?”

I snort, shaking my head. “If by ‘experimental’ you mean an epic failure, then yeah, that’s exactly what I was going for.”

Ben chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, no judgment. Knitting’s harder than it looks, right? But, uh, this might be a record for most dropped stitches in a single attempt. Impressive, in its own way.”

“Well, at least I’m good at something .” I smirk, rolling my eyes. “Too bad it’s not actually knitting.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he says, giving me a playful nudge. “You should’ve seen Hayes’s first attempt at this. Let’s just say you’re in good company. He tried to make a scarf once and ended up with something that resembled a really sad potholder.”

I laugh, sneaking a glance at Hayes, but he’s talking to Greg. “Okay, that does make me feel better. If Hayes can screw it up, then I’m definitely not alone.”

Ben takes a sip of his beer, his teasing fading into something a bit more genuine. “So, how are you settling in? You know, besides finding out you’ll never make a living as a knitter.”

I pause, considering the question. “It’s been… interesting. I mean, it’s a small town, and that’s a bit of an adjustment, but people have been mostly welcoming. I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“Yeah? I’ve been here my whole life, and I’m still trying to figure this place out sometimes. But it’s good, though, right? You like it here?”

“I do,” I admit. “It’s got this charm even if it’s a bit intense with all the gossip and small-town politics.”

Ben raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Speaking of gossip… heard anything about your nephew lately? Hayes mentioned something about him heading home at some point over the holidays.”

He did? My heart skips a beat at the mention of Hayes and Rhys in the same sentence, but I keep my face neutral. “Oh yeah? I haven’t spoken to Rhys in a while.” And Hayes hasn’t mentioned a thing.

Ben doesn’t seem perturbed by me not speaking to my nephew often. He simply shrugs. “I don’t really know Rhys all that well. He’d already left high school by the time I started.”

My brows shoot high. “No shit?” I thought he was older than that. Sure, Ben is a damn sight younger than I am, but I’m aware he’s a dispatcher at the sheriff’s office. I’m also aware that the sheriff is in his forties. He’s younger than I am, but still….

Questions threaten to singe my tongue, and I suspect that’s crystal clear to the young guy at my side, whose his lips twitch as he says, “Go ahead and ask.”

I glance around a little shiftily. Everyone seems engaged in some sort of conversation, so I keep my voice low when I ask, “So you and the sheriff. Have you been together long?”

“Over a year now.” He smiles fondly. “Married since spring. Pop by the sheriff’s department sometime, and I’ll pull out the wedding album.”

My smile comes easily. How can it not when he looks so happy? “I can definitely do that. And, uhm… when you got together, was that hard…?” I trail off, not knowing how to ask what I want to without sounding like a complete asshole.

“Because it’s the sheriff or because he’s twenty-one years older than me?”

Holy shit. My eyes widen.

Ben chuckles. “That look right there we got a little of, but honestly, there are more interesting things in this town to gossip about. Not that JD thought that at the time. Between you and me, he tried to resist, got it in his head he was too old for me or some sort of nonsense. It didn’t take him too long to realize the error of his ways.”

The sound of Hayes’s laughter, free and joyous, interrupts us. A tingle of awareness shoots down my spine, and I can’t help but turn to look at him. He’s still laughing, all while his hands are working with his blue needles.

That sound—I want to bottle it up.

“I see.”

I snap my attention back to Ben. His smile is soft and knowing. Unsure what to say and not wanting to question him or lie, I keep my mouth shut.

“Listen,” he says quietly, “you’ve already listed off some of this town’s faults, but the majority of townsfolk just want a happy life.” He blinks, his eyes widening before he says, “Oh.” He cuts a glance at Hayes. “Does Rhys know?”

For the love of all that’s holy, that I’m so obvious is a worry. Perhaps I’ve been walking around with hearts in my eyes.

But since Ben is scarily intuitive, I shake my head. “No.”

“Is that a ‘hell no’ or more of a ‘not yet, no’?”

“The second.”

The slight crease between his brows flattens out immediately at my answer, and he sighs. “Good. Hayes is the best, and like I said, I don’t know Rhys all too well, but I don’t think he’s a dick, right?”

A huff of amusement escapes me. “No, he’s not,” I answer quickly, aware I’ve captured Hayes’s attention. I don’t even need to confirm his eyes are on me. I feel them as viscerally as I would his touch.

“In that case, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” With that, he lifts the sweater he’s knitting and inspects it while I finally look at Hayes.

Our gazes connect. Are you okay? He doesn’t need to ask the question for me to know what he’s thinking. It’s there for me to read in his eyes.

I smile wide, hoping he can read me just as well. I’m good.

He bobs his head before turning to Francine, who asks him a question, leaving me to wonder why I didn’t know Rhys is heading to Collier’s Creek and when exactly we can expect him. I’m not even mad. Hayes knows I’m struggling with the idea of revealing our relationship. I suspect he didn’t want me to freak out.

Rhys visiting does mean I need to suck it up. I’ve kept Hayes waiting long enough, and more than that, I want to lean across and take his hand, press my mouth to his whenever I want.

We both deserve that.

I head back to my place tonight. There are only so many times I can tell Abigail that I’m working late and keep getting away with it. At least this time I’m armed with a gift to put her off the scent. Well, “gift” may be a bit of a stretch considering what I’m bringing her is my fairly weak attempt at a dishcloth. I’d started making it at the knitting club and finished it later at Hayes’s insistence while he cooked us dinner.

And yes, he helped me with the bind off.

Hayes promised me that he’s made a lot worse, so as I pass it to Abigail, who’s studying it as if it’s going to turn around and nip off her nose, I grin. “Hey, I tried.”

“Jesus.” She looks from the yellow sort-of dishcloth to me. “How on earth did someone manage to get you to attend knitting club?” I don’t have time to answer before she huffs out a laugh. “Of course Michael did.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “That kid. I swear he’s got a silver tongue.”

While I happen to agree with her, once again the “kid” endearment makes me cringe. It’s silly, really, and something I need to get over.

Rather than saying aloud that Hayes definitely has a silver tongue and the way he uses it on me is positively sinful—and that I love every moment—I respond, “Well, I can promise I won’t be attending again.”

She smirks as she looks at the dishcloth. “Your gifts definitely lie elsewhere, Tom.” She picks up her glass of wine. “Have you got time for a glass and a catch-up? I swear it feels like I spoke to you more when you used to live in San Francisco.”

Guilt shifts in my chest. Wine is probably a good idea, especially if I’m going to tell her about me and Hayes. “Absolutely. I’ll top you up.” I take her glass.

“Thanks.” She stands from her seat at the kitchen table. “Let’s go to the sitting room.”

“Sure thing,” I answer.

After pouring our drinks, I head into Abigail’s comfortable sitting room and sit down on the couch, eyeing the tree in the corner of the room. “Shit, when did that happen?”

A Christmas tree is up in the corner, looking like something sparkly and merry vomited all over it.

“Just today. Though if I said two weeks ago, you’d probably have believed me.”

I take a sip of wine rather than answering her.

Abigail rolls her eyes. “Is everything okay?” She’s eyeing me with curiosity.

“Yeah, of course it is.” Never better, in truth, but I don’t want to say that aloud. Not yet, anyway.

“Hmm. Okay.” She takes a sip of wine.

“Where’s Larry?” I ask, pointedly ignoring her assessing gaze. Am I stalling? I am, and it makes me feel all kinds of pathetic.

Hayes is incredible. We both know that. I also know my sister wants me to be happy.

Car headlights flash through the window, and Abigail’s face brightens. She quickly places her wineglass down before jumping out of her seat. “That’s him right now.”

She sounds far too excited that her husband is home.

“O-kay?” I drag out, peering over my shoulder as she rushes past me, goes into the foyer, and swings the front door open.

“Mom, hey.”

Holy shit.

“Rhys, sweetheart.” Abigail hugs her son hard while I stare on.

I really should have asked Hayes questions tonight about Rhys heading home. Getting distracted by his mouth before dinner looks like it bit me in the ass.

I stand when Abigail releases Rhys, and he steps out of her hold, his gaze landing on me. His smile is quick to form as he enters the sitting room, bounding my way.

It’s been too long since I last saw him.

I hug him tightly, and despite the anxiety forming in my gut, I smile, genuinely happy to see my nephew. “How did I not know you were coming home?” I ask after we drop our arms.

I take Rhys in. It’s been eighteen months since I last saw him—shameful when I think too hard about it.

“I was planning to come home just before the Christmas Bash, but I’ve gotta head overseas for a two-month project. So you get me now instead.”

Abigail has since reentered the room, Larry at her side, both beaming with pride at Rhys.

“Well, this is a great surprise.” It is, but even as I say it, my heart thumps heavily, sounding loud in my ears.

“Are you hungry?” Abigail asks.

“No, I’m good, thanks, Mom. I ate on the plane. I will grab a beer, though, please.”

“On it, son,” Larry says, squeezing his son on his shoulder before he heads to the kitchen.

“Make it two, thanks, Dad.”

“Why on earth?—”

The knock on the door cuts Abigail off. Rhys chuckles and makes his way to the door. He opens it fast and wide, saying, “Took you long enough.”

“No fucking way.” Hayes practically leaps into the foyer, hugging Rhys hard. “What the hell are you doing here?”

My pulse slows a little. Hayes didn’t know he was coming. It makes me feel a little better and less like the rug is being pulled from under my feet.

“Surprise, asshole.” Rhys gives Hayes a smacking kiss on the cheek. My smile comes easily as they joke and laugh, greeting each other.

“Here you go, boys,” Larry says, holding out the beers.

With a chuckle, Hayes takes his beer and finally looks around. Immediately, his gaze settles on me. He’s still grinning, that doesn’t change, but there’s a softening around his eyes when he takes me in.

I swallow as quietly as possible—even though Rhys is saying something to his dad—viscerally aware I’m too obvious around Hayes. Every time I’m in his presence, there’s like an invisible string that has me staying close, always in his orbit.

How the hell am I supposed to keep that from my family?

I don’t know if I can.

Maybe I shouldn’t.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I take a step forward but stop dead in my tracks when I tune in to Rhys saying: “… not a chance I’m missing out on meeting this secret boyfriend of yours.”

Hayes’s brows jump high, and his cheeks turn red. He parts his lips and appears to stumble before settling on: “Uhm… what?” I’m impressed his gaze doesn’t immediately snap to mine. Though from the look of discomfort in his shoulders, he’s struggling not to look my way.

“Puh-lease.” Rhys chuckles. “You haven’t dated anyone, let alone had a boyfriend in so many years, but I absolutely remember the signs.”

“But I haven’t even seen you.”

That’s not a denial.

Which is immediately what Rhys jumps on. “Man, all I know is, I’m happy for you. And your voice and the way you’ve been clamming up when we’ve spoken told me all I needed to know. You’ve fallen hard.”

My heart lurches in my chest, happiness blooming there, which is a million times better than the worry I expected to feel.

The thought pulls me up short.

I’m not worried. They’re my family. And Hayes, he’s something special.