Chapter 11
S ince Morgan had been the one to ask me out, protocol dictated that he should be the one to organize dinner. But I knew how busy he’d been all day and I didn’t want him to have to worry about it. I ordered take-out from Mirabelle’s and for the first time, really appreciated living in a small town. All I had to do was ask the lady behind the counter if she knew what Morgan liked and I had his favorite cheeseburger quesadilla in the bag. I went the more traditional route for my own meal and ordered the empanadas.
I scheduled pick up for 1810 and was at the fields promptly by 1820. Morgan was shepherding the last of the shoppers out the doors, and the lot was nearly empty. I did an internal fist pump at getting the timing right. Or at least nearly. I was glad I had the foresight to not only ask the staff to wrap the food well in aluminum but borrowed an insulated bag as well.
I got out of the SUV and Morgan caught sight of me. I could tell he didn’t recognize me at first, because his shoulders slumped in defeat, as though he was gearing himself to turn a customer away. The lot was fairly well lit in general, but the sun had long since set and the shadows were deep.
“Morgan,” I called.
That fast, his demeanor changed. I ambled closer, but he picked up his pace. When we met, I could see the tiredness all over his face, but he was smiling. I knew right then grabbing dinner had been the right call.
“What are you doing here?” He glanced around and, seeing that no one was paying us any attention, took hold of my lapel. I had to drive with the jacket unzipped or else I couldn’t move.
“Did you forget?” I teased. Then added in a stage whisper, “We have a date tonight.”
Even his laugh sounded tired. If I thought it was remotely possible, I’d tuck him into bed to sleep for ten straight hours after we ate—he needed food—but I knew he’d never go for it. Not only did he want to walk the lights, he felt he had to. He was the director of events after all, and the House Lights Tour was just such an event.
I’d get him into bed afterward though. One way or another.
“It’s all I’ve been thinking about. But I didn’t expect…” His eyes went wide. “We never went over details. I asked you and then never made specific plans. I’m so sorry, Barrett. That was thoughtless of me.”
“Relax, it’s fine. You had a lot going on today.” I smoothed a stray piece of hair back from his forehead. “I picked up dinner from Mirabelle’s. We can go back to your place, eat, and then head out. It’s all good.”
The pout was cute, which I never thought I’d say about a grown man. “I was going to cook for you.”
“You can cook for me another time. I’m always down for chow.”
Morgan’s smile was back. “I’ll hold you to it. I just need to make sure everyone’s out, the doors are locked, and security is in place. Then you can follow me home. Give me ten minutes?”
I nodded and let him go. Security rolled in just a minute or two later, so all I could do was wait. And keep my eyes on Morgan every chance I got. It took twenty minutes, but I’d been expecting it to take even longer. I hoped having the seat heater on in the passenger seat helped keep the food warm. If it wasn’t, well, then we just heat it up again.
Eventually, Morgan waved at me, got into his car, and drove off. I was right behind him and then pulled into the drive to block him in. I was going to insist on driving over to the neighborhood. He was too tired, and I would rather not squish myself into his car anyway.
I slung my duffle over my shoulder, threaded the two brown paper bags with his gifts over my wrist, picked up the insulated bag, and bumped the door closed with my hip. When I turned, Morgan was right there.
“Need help?”
I shook my head. “Nah. I got it. Go open the door.”
He did, then flicked on both the inside and outside lights. It looked really nice, cozy and inviting, and I was happy to step into his home. The warmth surrounded me, as did the scents of cedar and cinnamon. I was beginning to associate that smell with Morgan and I knew it would forever make me think of him.
“What is all this?” he asked after he’d slipped off his shoes. I got stuck watching him remove his coat and the holiday sweater he wore underneath. He seemed to have an endless supply. This one was blue with snowflakes all over it. It wasn’t until after he hung up his coat and left the door open for me to do the same that I remembered he asked a question.
“Dinner,” I said, handing over the insulated bag. He took it. I dropped the duffle off my shoulder and winked. “Self-explanatory.”
His eyes went dark and he nodded. “And those?”
“Presents. One for now.” I untangled the bags from my wrist and held up the bag with the plant inside. Then I dropped the other one on top of my duffle and pointed to it. “And one for later.”
The lust that had been rising in his face disappeared in a flash. His mouth worked for a minute. “You…got me presents?”
“Let’s eat,” I said instead of answering him. He seemed shocked, and not in a good way. Or rather, more like he didn’t get presents all that often, and that was a damn shame. He deserved them.
“Barrett!” His outrage was tempered with laughter, so I knew I wasn’t in trouble. He followed me a second later, set the bag down on the table, and held out his hand. “Gimme please.”
I smirked and handed it over. “Well, since you said please.”
Morgan didn’t hesitate, opening it instantly. I knew he was slightly confused about the plant, but I’d been right about how cute he found the pot. I relayed Elliott’s care instructions and he immediately found the pot a home on the windowsill.
Then he kissed me soundly and thoroughly to show me his thanks. It took at least fifteen minutes before we got to the food.
T he residents had been good about making sure the sidewalks were well salted. So much so that our shoes crunched with every step we took. We hadn’t had any real snow or ice to speak of, but no one was taking any chances. I had to appreciate the preparedness.
It was pretty damn cold as well. My SUV had reported the external temp at twenty-eight degrees on the drive over. Morgan and I had bundled up well, and so had everyone we passed. And there were a whole lot of people walking the route and marveling at the lit and decorated houses.
The route wasn’t long. It started on Center St at the visitor’s center, continued west along Maple Ave, then turned north up Lawrence St where it met West End. After completing that loop in the cul-de-sac, walkers head back east along Mill St until they once again reached Center St. It was basically a big square. I could double time it in ten minutes. Most people probably walked it in thirty to forty minutes. Morgan and I were strolling.
I’d never strolled a day in my life. It was nice.
Morgan kept up a running commentary.
“The Johnsons and the Pikes have been battling it out every year to see which one can end up with the biggest display. I think the Johnsons won this year with that twenty-foot-tall inflatable reindeer. But don’t tell Betty Pike I said that.”
“Miriam Landau insists on only white lights. Which is nice and all, but holy crap it’s stark. Don’t you think?”
“The Jacobson’s moved in last year. They have six kids. Six! The oldest is only ten. But Lily is a sweetheart and I think she was the most excited to decorate when I visited to explain. It was her idea to line the walk with those candy canes.”
“Rachel Leroux lives in that house, with just the candles in the window. She just turned eighty-seven in September. Still pretty spry. I offered to help with decorating the outside, but she told me she just likes the candles. I feel like there’s a story there, but I didn’t want to pry.”
We encountered our first hot beverage station on the corner of Maple and Lawrence. Apparently it offered three different flavors of hot chocolate. When I gestured with my head, silently asking if Morgan wanted a cup, he shook his head, and we continued on.
It was darker on Lawrence St. The houses were smaller, for one. But it didn’t seem the residents on this stretch cared for the…gaudier shall we say, decorations. Each house sported outdoor lights, tastefully strung along the rooflines and eaves.
“Do you think anyone would notice if we held hands?” Morgan murmured.
I kind of didn’t care if they did. But it was dark enough here that it wouldn’t matter. I reached out, but then stopped. I didn’t want the gloves in the way. I took mine off the one hand, shoved it in my pocket, then grabbed Morgan’s wrist and removed his glove too. He grinned when I threaded our fingers together. And then, because it was freezing, I tucked our joined hands in my pocket along with the gloves.
It was a little awkward, and Morgan laughed as we situated ourselves until we could walk comfortably again. I waggled my eyebrows even though I wasn’t sure he could see. Morgan leaned into me and we continued to stroll.
It wasn’t long before we hit West End. We heard it before we saw it. Not only the cheering and squealing of children, but a gruff, loud voice as well. That had to be Bruce the Spruce. As our surroundings lightened, I reluctantly pulled our hands out of my pocket. Morgan was disappointed when I handed him back his glove.
“Stay close to me, all right?”
He tilted his head and a smile played on his lips. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
Morgan’s breath caught and he nodded quickly. I wasn’t sure what that was about, but I didn’t have time to question it. West End, currently known as Candy Cane Lane, was alive with activity. And I didn’t mean just the animated decorations. There were dozens of people milling about. Some were oohing and aahing over the scene set up by the homeowners. Others were crowded around the gazebo where Costa’s had a stand. It was loud and chaotic. And also kind of amazing.
We spent a few minutes listening to Bruce tell the story of how the trolls were jealous of the elves and decided to take revenge. They set an explosion in the workshop, scattered all the presents so they would be hard to find, stole the sleigh, and fed the reindeer too much food so they wouldn’t be able to fly. But what the trolls didn’t know was that Santa got wind of their plan long before they could put it into action, so he set up Candy Cane Lane as a diversion. While the trolls thought they were ruining Christmas, it was just a decoy. The real North Pole was safe from their nefarious plans.
It was fun and funny. The ridiculousness of it hit exactly the right note and I was in awe. I’d never seen anything like it. Strangely, I was struck by the thought that my dad would have loved this. He had a fondness for silly. As a kid, it had embarrassed me. But now, I just missed it. Which made me think of why I’d moved to Hickory Hollow in the first place.
“Barrett?” Morgan’s voice broke through my thoughts and I looked down to meet his concerned gaze. “You all right?”
“Yeah.”
His brow beetled, and he gave my arm a gentle tug, pulling me a few feet away from the talking tree. He tucked my scarf into my collar a bit more and then patted my chest.
“Where’d you go just now?”
“Thinking about my dad,” I answered truthfully, but not wanting to get into it here and now. That was too vulnerable a mental place amidst such a public setting. Instead, I shared the new thought that popped into my head. “Maybe if Hickory Hollow had been like this when I was a kid, I wouldn’t have hated it so much.”
“Maybe,” Morgan agreed, his tone filled with empathy.
“Then again,” I continued, my thoughts evolving. “Maybe it would have made me hate it even more. I was a kid who needed therapy in a time and place where that wasn’t done.”
“Oh, Barrett. My heart hurts for younger you.”
Ah crap. Morgan’s eyes were misting up and I didn’t want him to cry over me. I’d put that behind me a long time ago. Mostly, anyway. It still snuck up on occasion. Even though we were out in the open, I hugged him to me, giving him a tight squeeze. I refrained from kissing his head, despite wanting to.
I let him go and stepped back. He looked a little better, so I gave him a grin. “I’m all grown up now, though. How about I buy you a hot beverage of your choice and we continue with the House Lights Tour?”
Fortunately, Morgan went with it. His smile was still a little sad, but he was trying. He bumped his elbow against mine. “Sure. Sounds great.”
As we walked to the center of the cul-de-sac and joined the line, I made the effort to shove down all the sad thoughts into the box where they belonged. I needed to remain in the present. I was in the company of a sweet and beautiful man who was sharing his joy with me. That’s all I should be focusing on. All I wanted to focus on. Everything else be damned.