Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
SOMEWHAT LATER ON NEW YEAR’S EVE
On this last day of the year, Dale is getting a head start on the garden. He has a landscaping team coming in a few days to rip everything out and replace it with a safe, dog-friendly design, but against his better judgment, he’s keeping the rose vines that frame the front porch entry. Even more daringly, he wants to attend to them himself. He suspects that his uncle must have loved them because he can’t think of any other reason he would have allowed so many bees and thorns in close proximity to the walk. Dale is determined to give them some personal attention and see what spring has in store.
Dale is also feeling far more confident with the perilous task because Aaron has agreed to help.
“We’re not taking any chances,” Aaron says, arriving with a pile of equipment, including heavy leather gloves that cover Dale’s beefy arms all the way to the elbows and some safety goggles. Dale feels goofy, like something out of a steampunk novel, but better safe than sorry.
“Let me deal with the ladder,” Aaron offers. “You can keep your feet firmly planted on the ground and tackle the vines on the posts.”
This, of course, has the heady effect of placing Aaron’s perfect bubble butt at face level. Rather, Dale thinks with a flood of pure lust, perfectly at tongue level. He reaches up and gives Aaron’s butt a pinch.
“Cheeky devil!” Aaron says. “But thanks.”
“No, thank you . Aren’t you feeling too warm in that shirt?”
“Be good,” Aaron says. “We have work to do.”
“I’m counting on it,” Dale says with a wink.
With Aaron’s expert direction, they clip and snip and the arch of thorns gradually starts looking more civilized. Dale moves to the snarl wrapping the railings and immediately snags his sleeve on a rambling cane. He tries to dislodge it, but with the thick-fingered gloves, he only manages to snag the other sleeve too. Soon the neighboring canes join the fray, spearing him at the shoulders and on his pants. Within minutes, he’s trapped in a cage of thorns.
“You did that on purpose,” he growls at the house, not daring to move, and calls up to Aaron, “Some help?”
Aaron looks down from on high and laughs. He hops down and crosses his arms. “Completely at my mercy.”
“Ha ha,” Dale says. “Cut me free before they drain me dry.”
Aaron starts to snip. “Wow, you really can’t move. How did you manage that?”
“They snuck up on me, so be careful: they seem to have a taste for blood.”
Naturally, Aaron prunes his way through the entire tangle without a scratch. Since he dares not move, Dale spends his time in captivity admiring the hefty bulge in Aaron’s jeans, and those irresistible blue eyes, and the way the sunlight glints off his beautiful golden hair…wait. Aaron’s hair is a hot mess, stuck to his forehead with sweat and tangled with stray leaves.
“What?” Aaron asks, self-conscious under his scrutiny. “Is there a bee on me or something?”
“No,” Dale says, wanting desperately to run his hands through that messy hair, “Nothing at all. You’re a pure wonder.”
Once he’s released, Dale continues at half speed, which makes him more than a match for the grasping thorns. As he’s clipping, his eyes keep straying to Aaron, exploring the way the sweat glues his white T-shirt to his broad back, and the intensity that he brings to his task, and sadly, how rarely he smiles.
Dale resolves: that needs to change and he’s just the man to do it. With that happy thought, Dale hears a young couple laughing as they walk down the sidewalk to the park, laughing and having a great holiday out in the sun, but he knows it isn’t really them. It’s the Fates laughing at his unwarranted optimism.
Just the same, maybe a kiss wouldn’t be too much to ask. After all, it’s always a kiss: the kiss that wakes the princess or the kiss that brings the Beast back to life. Maybe, just maybe, a kiss will break the spell, lift the curse, change their luck, or whatever the hell the two of them need to get together. And what better time than New Year’s Eve?
“Hey Aaron,” he asks. “Do you have plans tonight?”
“Not a thing. I usually hole up, make some popcorn, and watch the ball drop on the television.”
“I hear there’s a celebration down at the park. Wanna go with me?”
Dale gives a wolf whistle when Aaron meets him on the sidewalk. After a shower and change of clothes, Aaron is no longer a hot mess, fully back to his dreamy sex-god self. Dale allows just a moment to imagine the preparations: peeling off that sweaty T-shirt, sexy tan line just visible behind shower curtains, soft towel caressing every curve in the steamy bathroom, slipping that monster he’s packing into some clean white briefs, and how much he wants to be there to experience every single moment.
“Let me try something,” Dale says. Before Aaron can stop him, he steps over and twirls one of Aaron’s curly locks around a finger and down onto his forehead. “Adorable. Now don’t you dare touch it. Let’s see how long it lasts.”
He grabs Aaron’s hand and steers him down the sidewalk. Aaron’s hand is warm and smooth, without a trace of callusing, but tentative and unpracticed. Dale is having none of that and quickly interlaces his thick fingers with Aaron’s gentler ones, holding them tight. Aaron squeezes his hand back, obviously with no intention of letting go, but walks stiffly next to him. He’s taking every step carefully, shoulders square and chin high, like a proper young lady in charm school. After half a block, Dale steals a glance and sees, to his amazement, that Aaron is actually concentrating. Hard.
Dale laughs and says, “Go ahead. It must be killing you.”
Aaron instantly gives a classic hair flip, straight out of a shampoo commercial, and the curl flips perfectly into place. His shoulders relax and his face softens. “That was trickier than I would have imagined. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“I hope so,” Dale says with a twinkle.
Hand in hand, they arrive at the town square. A bar and several tables are arrayed around the gazebo, so they head over to get a drink.
The fellow tending the bar says, “Aaron, I’m so glad you could make it this year. Thank you again for your generous donation.”
“You’re most welcome, Simon, and thank you for always sending my books over so promptly.”
“It’s my pleasure. What can I get you boys?”
“Champagne, if you please.”
“Certainly.” He gets to work on a new bottle, and Dale shields his face, bracing for the inevitable. But after the iconic pop , the cork disappears safely into the crowd. He sighs: the first hurdle of the evening is crossed, but what’s next? Soon they have bubbling glasses in their hands. Fortunately, the glasses are unbreakable plastic, so that’s at least one future disaster forestalled.
“Donations?” Dale asks as they wander off.
“To the library. When I moved in, the children’s section was woefully small and they needed a serious update to their public computers. Now, when I want books, he has somebody bring them to my house.”
“That’s considerate.”
“It’s safer for everyone all around that way.”
“I hear you on that,” Dale says, and he sees it in action all around them. The crowd naturally shifts away, like oil and water, as they wander through the park. It’s not like their neighbors are rude about it, in fact, everyone smiles and waves and greets them, but somehow, there’s always an empty circle with them at the center. They make one more stop, at a table with funny party hats, then carry two folding chairs off to the edge of the park. It may be his imagination, but Dale swears he hears a sigh of relief from the crowd.
“So what’s up with us?” he asks, watching the crowd from their safe vantage.
Caught off guard, Aaron answers, “Oh, I don’t know. Friends? Maybe more?”
“Ha, sorry to put you on the spot, but I wasn’t fishing for anything. Rather, what’s up with our, um, gifts?” He squeezes Aaron’s hand and continues, “But yes, maybe more. I like the way your hand feels in mine.”
This gets a fleeting smile from Aaron, but then he’s back to his serious self. “I have no idea what’s happening. I still haven’t even sorted myself out. Back when I was a teenager, I thought I was the Chosen One, spawn of the Fates, destined to change the world.”
Dale laughs his big bear laugh. “Read a lot of fantasy, did we?”
“Mountains. When I started understanding the backlash, it only strengthened the feeling that it was all supernatural, but it got darker when I started college, more like a curse. Now I just try to take it as it comes and find ways to mitigate the damage.”
“Seems like you’re also finding ways to share the good fortune,” Dale observes, standing up. “Just a second, let me move my chair. I think I found a gopher hole.”
“When I can,” Aaron continues. “But mostly, I hide away with my roses and my pool. How about your gift?”
“It may be easier than yours,” Dale says, standing again to pull his chair leg out of a second hole. “If it doesn’t kill me. I’ve toughened up a lot since my teen years, and I don’t let it get to me anymore. I’m content with being the perpetual klutz. It’s also great to see people around me prosper. That’s why I started my massage business: minimal risk to me and maximal benefit for my clients.”
“Does touch make your connection stronger? It always does for me. I can’t remember the last time I held hands.”
More than anything, this tears at Dale’s heart. He turns to Aaron and takes both of his hands. “Any time you want to hold hands, I’m all in.”
Aaron looks at him, eyes filled with hope. “Is it really true? You’re not feeling any backlash?”
“Don’t think so. This chair hasn’t collapsed, in spite of the gophers, and no trees have fallen on us. Hopefully, this town doesn’t have a reputation for tornados or mountain lions. Honestly, I don’t think you could make me more unlucky, since I’m already maxed out. Maybe that’s my superpower!”
Music wafts over the grass from the gazebo. Aaron gazes at him for a long, quiet moment, searching for something, some sign Dale doesn’t quite understand. Aaron must find what he’s looking for because he stands and asks, “Join me in a dance?”
Dale hesitates, remembering his high school days. He can count the number of times he’s danced on one hand, and they were unparalleled disasters. “I don’t know. I’m not really…”
“I know, you have two left feet. I’m willing to take my chances.” Aaron holds out his hand. “Let’s give it a try.”
Dale dithers. He has no idea what to do with his feet or arms or anything. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself, or worse, embarrass Aaron, but maybe he could just follow Aaron’s lead and hope for the best? Aaron gives him an encouraging smile, a tender smile that Dale can’t resist, so he throws caution to the wind and takes his hand.
They start slowly, gently swaying so Dale doesn’t have to move his feet at all. Then he’s pulled in closer, Aaron’s hand firmly in the small of his back and Aaron’s perfect chest locked against his. Sheltered in Aaron’s strong arms, Dale feels his insecurity drain away. He lets go of fear and expectation and lets himself live in the moment, in this embrace full of warmth and promise. He leans his head against Aaron’s cheek and allows himself to take a few tentative steps across the grass, releasing himself to Aaron’s lead.
Against all odds, lightning doesn’t strike them down, and they make it through the entire song without mishap. Dale notices that many of the people in the crowd are watching, most with encouraging smiles, and in that moment, he’s certain that this entire community is rooting for Aaron, seeing his kindness, hoping for his happiness, but not knowing what to do about it. Maybe that’s where he comes in.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Aaron says as the song ends. “I don’t think you stepped on my toes once.”
“Well, that’s a rather low bar,” Dale scoffs. “But I’ll take it. I’m happy to be not so bad on the dance floor for once.” At the same time, he’s wishing with all his might that Aaron will sweep him off his feet and ask for another.
“Nonsense. We’ll be tangoing in no time. This next one sounds like a waltz—may I take you for a spin?”
They dance together on the grassy field until the band stops and the countdown to midnight begins. Dale has never felt so connected with anyone. He still stumbles, but Aaron catches him every time and brings him back on track. More importantly, his little awkwardnesses never fail to make Aaron smile and laugh. That’s the true gift: hearing Aaron laugh. The entire evening has been magical and Dale is certain that this moment, as they welcome in a fresh new year together, is the perfect opportunity for their first kiss.
“Five!” Dale steps back and looks at this stunning man, dropped by some twist of fortune right into his arms.
“Four!” He wraps one arm around Aaron’s waist, taking the lead, and Aaron shows no sign of resisting.
“Three!” He reaches his other hand up and cradles Aaron’s head, weaving his fingers through those silky blond curls.
“Two!” He hugs Aaron in tight, looking up into his eyes and hoping the time is right.
“One!” He sees in Aaron’s eyes that the time is exactly right.
“Happy New Year!” He dives in, but of course, in all the excitement he trips in one of those pesky gopher holes and loses his balance. The universe simply will not allow him this unfettered expression of romance. He ends up planting his kiss chastely somewhere in the vicinity of Aaron’s cheek.
Aaron pulls back and gives a full, shimmering laugh, saying, “Well, that won’t do at all. Let me try my luck.”
Dale is enfolded in strong arms, barely able to move, and Aaron smothers him in a kiss. Then, somehow, holds him even tighter. Aaron deepens the kiss, asking for more with a brush of his tongue. Dale replies with an open invitation, and they explore this new way they fit together.
This kiss, seemingly never ending, is everything he imagined. There’s nothing halfway about this kiss and for the first time in his life, Dale swoons, feeling himself fall into the connection and rise with the passion of it. It’s impossible to tell where he ends and Aaron begins. Pleasure races through his body, his mind floods with stars, and the world explodes with fireworks.
Aaron breaks the kiss, looking him in the eye. “Was it fireworks for you too?”
“So much. How did you guess?”
“Well, there are actual fireworks,” he answers, glancing up.
Sure enough, the sky is lit up with color as they explode overhead.
“You planned that,” Dale says.
“You started it!” Aaron accuses. “Not that I wasn’t hoping…”
“Well,” Dale says, reaching up to brush a finger across Aaron’s lips. “The evening is still young. Let’s light some more.”
The fireworks, the ones in the sky, end far too soon, and the crowd begins to disperse. Dale is feeling very good indeed, well and truly kissed. He grabs Aaron’s hand and they head back to their homes.
“That was transcendent,” Aaron says. “A perfect first kiss.”
“It was, wasn’t it? It felt exactly right.”
“Makes me wonder.” Aaron moves out in front of Dale, walking backwards and pulling him forward with both hands. “Years ago, I used to read about fated mates. What do you think? Are our gifts made to be together? To complement one another?”
“Don’t know, but they sure felt good together tonight. Hopefully, this is a preview of coming attractions.”
“I’m serious,” Aaron says, stepping backwards into the street. “Do you think something mystical is happening here?”
“Aaron, wait…” Dale warns, trying to pull him back.
Out of nowhere, Aaron is illuminated in bright headlights and tires squeal. The car clips him, knocking his hands out of Dale’s and sending him crashing to the pavement.