Chapter 15
W e got to be lazy Sunday morning, staying in bed long after the sun rose and just enjoying each other. But it didn’t last. By lunchtime, Morgan had gotten a call that one of the vendors at the Market was having some sort of trouble, and he was off to the races again. At least this time, he let me tag along.
It turned out the vendor couldn’t connect his payment device to his phone, which wasn’t Morgan’s purview, but my sweet man helped anyway. And then since he was there, he started working, checking in, fixing problems and managing disputes. He even filled in as Santa’s elf when the poor girl who was doing it split her tights. Apparently she had another pair at home, and was back within the hour.
I followed along after him, helping where I could, but mostly reminding him to drink water. The man was chronically dehydrated. No wonder he was so tired at the end of the day. When the Market started winding down for the day, I made him sit on his little stool in the corner, handed him one of the large sugar cookies from Ella’s Confections, and I handled herding everyone out the door.
The next day was more of the same. His dedication to the job was admirable, but it was a fuckton to lay on one person. There were days when he barely had a second to breathe, let alone eat. More and more, I realized Morgan needed a keeper. Or at the very least an assistant. Even when an event wasn’t going on, he was on the phone, answering or sending emails, and in meetings.
Fortunately, on Christmas Eve, the Market closed at 1300. By then, there were only a few stragglers, last-minute shoppers hoping to find the perfect gift in the meager left-over offerings. After we shuffled the last person out the doors, the vendors had until 1500 to get their stuff packed up and gone. But I noticed they were just as eager to get out and get home as everyone else.
I was doing a walk through just to make sure nothing was left behind when I noticed the sleigh, which had been piled with gifts, was now empty. I nodded, glad to see it, shut off the lights surrounding it, and kept up my sweep. When I made it back to the first temporary building, Morgan was on the phone. I waited until he said his last thank you and hung up.
He gave me a tired smile. “Just confirming with John that they’ll be here on the twenty-sixth to collect the tents.”
I nodded. “Have you considered, since you do a Market every three months or so, that a permanent space should be built?”
“Yeah. And I want to do that.” He sighed tiredly. “I just haven’t had time to do all the research and write the proposal. I’ll get to it someday.”
Of course he hadn’t had time. I bit my tongue so I didn’t say it out loud. Instead, I switched tracks. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Who’s in charge of the Toys for Tots? I notice the toys get picked up every day, and I know you aren’t hauling them in your tiny lunchbox of a car, so I wondered who’s got ‘em. And if they don’t have a contact already, I can get them one.”
Morgan’s expression softened and he grabbed my hand. I squinted at him, confused.
“I thought you knew. It’s Arlo. It was his idea from the start, and he handles everything.”
For a few seconds, all I could do was stare. Then all I could get out of my mouth was, “Huh.”
Morgan shook his head, smiling fondly. “He’s so proud of you, Barrett. Of all you’ve accomplished. He always talks about you. To anyone who will listen.” He bit his lip, as if contemplating what to say next. I saw the moment he just decided to dive in and say what was on his mind. “It’s his way, I think, of doing something to support the Corps and a good cause. Because the Corps was your life.”
“Huh.” I sounded like a broken record, but I couldn’t say anything else. I was going to have to sit with that for a while before I figured out how I felt about it. Figured out what it meant. That was for later me to think on. I cleared my throat. “What else is on the agenda for today?”
Morgan went with the change of topic smoothly. “The judging for the gingerbread house contest is in an hour.” He glanced at his phone. “Forty-five minutes. That’ll be done by four forty-five, because the first Christmas Eve mass at St. Mary’s is at five on the dot. Father James is never late.”
Church. Shit. I’d never thought about that. I wasn’t religious in the least. But it just occurred to me that I didn’t know if Morgan was. “Do you do the church thing?”
“Church thing,” he repeated to himself with a chuckle. The laugh grew louder for just a few seconds before he got himself under control. “No. The ‘church thing’ is not my thing. But I swear, half this town is Catholic. Or at least, Catholic on the holidays. I want to be well clear of the area by the time mass lets out.”
“So what I’m hearing is that after the gingerbread, you’re mine for the rest of the day?”
He sucked in a breath. If I’d made my tone suggestive, well, who could blame me? I was craving some time alone with him. And it didn’t even have to involve sex, though that was never off the table. I’d really like to just sit down with him and hold him.
Whatever he read on my face made him smile sweetly. He hopped up and took my hand. “Come on. Let’s lock up, judge some gingerbread, and go home.”
He meant his house, but I was so on board with that plan, I didn’t mention it.
H eidi Cooper won first place. Juniper Rawlings was so mad her face turned red. Heidi deserved it since her rendition looked like a ski villa. Complete with a lift in the background. But when a high school kid named Ross Mackey won second place for his version of an ice castle, Juniper screamed wordlessly and stomped out of the building. She didn’t even wait around to find out her classic gingerbread house—which honestly was pretty fucking good—won third place.
The kicker? The only prize was bragging rights and a ribbon.
The gingerbread would stay on display through the new year. Since they would stay right where they were, those in attendance cleared out pretty fast, most everyone else congratulating Heidi and Ross. The senior center was hosting a dinner, but that didn’t start till after mass. Morgan and I left at the tail end of the crowd, neither of us interested in hanging around for the food.
Morgan basically collapsed on the sofa the moment we got inside his house. Well, he’d kicked off his shoes and dropped his coat on the floor first. I hung it up, nudged his shoes against the wall so they weren’t in the way, and joined him. He immediately flopped sideways into me and pulled the throw off the back of the couch and over his legs. Then he noticed what was on it.
“Bah. Gingerbread.”
“At least no one started throwing punches?” I chuckled and smoothed his hair back from his face. He closed his eyes like it was the best feeling in the world. Taking the hint, I massaged his scalp. The groan he let out rivaled the sounds he made when I had him under me. He snuggled into me and wrapped an arm around my waist.
“Can I ask you a question? Well, two questions.”
“Sure.” No qualifiers this time. He could ask me anything he wanted.
“So.” He shook his head. “No. Wait. Sexy question or serious question first?”
“Sexy, obviously.”
“Obviously,” he mocked me but he was smiling. Then he peeked up at me through my lashes. “Do you ever bottom?”
Easy question. Easy answer. “It’s not my favorite, but I won’t say never. You gotta get me really worked up first, though. Like when I edge you until you’re begging. But times ten. You think you can do that?”
He squirmed like he was suddenly uncomfortable. He stuck a leg out from under the blanket, apparently making more room, and that seemed better. “I’m certainly gonna try. One of these days when I have all the energy.”
I kissed his cheek, then his ear. “I look forward to it.”
“Dammit,” he muttered. He blew out a breath. “Now I’m thinking things and…I should have insisted on the serious question first.”
“Hey.” I lifted his chin with a finger so he would look at me. His face rose easily, but it took a second for him to lift his gaze. “You can still ask the serious question. We’ll have no problem getting back to the sexy eventually.”
He nodded but didn’t speak. I gave him time, rubbing his back, and after a minute or two, he relaxed in my hold.
“You told me about your dad. And Arlo. But, um, you never mentioned a mother in your story.”
“You noticed, huh?” I tried to laugh, to play it off, but fell flat and we both knew it. Morgan squeezed me, offering silent support. I took a minute myself to get my thoughts in order. “I say I don’t have one. But of course a woman gave birth to me. When she found out she was pregnant and told my dad, well. Jareth McKinnon got clean and sober, and she just stopped doing drugs long enough to give birth to me. He told me once that she tried to be a mom. But the truth is, he woke up one morning when I was about two weeks old and she was just gone. He looked for her, but not very hard. She never came back. He raised me on his own until he died.”
I braced for the pity and the platitudes but they never came. Morgan probably knew that I didn’t want to hear it. He just kissed my neck, gave me a squeeze, and said, “That sucks.”
“Yep. It could have been worse. I could have been born addicted to heroin. And meth. At least she gave me that.” I scratched his scalp again, loving the feeling of his hair through my fingers. “And I’m not kidding when I say my dad was the best dad in the world. He wasn’t perfect. No human is. He made mistakes. But he loved me fiercely and made sure I knew it. He was always there for me. Fuck, I was so fucking angry at him when he died.”
The instant the words left my mouth, I froze. I’d never said those words out loud. I’d never even really processed that was what I felt. But I had been. Angry at the guy who caused it, angry at the world for letting it happen, mad at Arlo for uprooting me and bringing me to the middle of nowhere, sure. That all made sense. And I had felt those things. But I’d been angry at my dad too, and that just wasn’t fair.
Morgan lifted up, threw a leg over my thighs, and sat on my lap. In this position, he was the one looking down at me. He wound his arms around my neck and rubbed the back of my head with one hand.
“Of course you were. You were a kid. What else were you supposed to feel?” He rubbed our noses together and it should have been weird, but strangely, it was comforting. “I know you were sad, too. And probably a little lost. But the anger is justified. And that’s okay.”
Maybe it was the way he said it. Or the fact that it had been twenty-eight years. Maybe both. But the tightness in my chest instantly eased. “Huh.”
Morgan kissed me, gentle and tender, then he pulled back and looked me right in the eye. “Do you want to keep delving into your psyche or do you want to watch a Christmas movie and cuddle.”
I shot him a look because he already knew the answer to that. “The second one.”
“You got it.”
Morgan settled down beside me again after he grabbed the remote. A few clicks later, he was scrolling through the selections on a streaming app. He picked one without consulting me, but that was fine. It was some adaptation of A Christmas Carol with people I didn’t know. I didn’t actually care. I let my brain blank out and stared at the screen.
After it was done, Morgan rustled up some food, and we ate in front of the TV while watching an absurd comedy starring Will Ferrell who was apparently raised as an elf. I’d heard of it but had never watched it. I didn’t find it that funny, but Morgan was laughing his ass off. This laughter soothed my frayed nerves better than anything I could think of.
We both fell asleep during the third movie. I couldn’t even remember what it was. When I woke much later, the clock had ticked past midnight. I kissed Morgan awake, and when he blinked those gorgeous blue eyes at me, I smiled.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” he echoed then kissed me a little harder.
He demanded I carry him to bed, and I’d slept enough that I was ready to pounce. But he busied himself at the dresser, and then turned around, holding up matching pajamas. The pants were green, the shirts were white and they were covered in…
“Are those llamas wearing Santa hats?”
“Yes!” He cackled as though it was the best thing ever. He shook the larger set at me. “Come on. Please. I swear I’m not usually this weird, but when I went to pick up the poinsettias, there was a shop next door that sold the most ridiculous clothes. I grabbed these on a whim, and it’s dumb, but they’re hysterical.”
I stared him down. He blinked innocently back. Neither of us moved or spoke. Normally, I could keep this up forever. Marines didn’t back down. But despite his silly smile, I knew how tired he was. I broke first.
“Fine. Hand it over.”
The cackling grew into a celebratory guffaw as he passed me my set. He made us take a selfie when we got into bed. I had to admit, we looked good together. When we fell asleep a short time later, we were tangled around each other, breathing the same air.