Merry and Bright

Chapter Five #2

I was excited too. The truth was, I liked him. And I didn’t want to like him. I had told myself I was coming to Hartbridge to leave behind the dating disasters. I didn’t want to get my hopes up only to have them trampled on again.

I was done with it.

I didn’t need it. I was too busy, too distracted, and too determined. This was a fresh start for me. I wanted to focus solely on my business and just enjoy small-town life without the pressure to conform to societal expectations that, as a gay man, I needed to date and have sex and . . .

Okay, so that wasn’t entirely fair.

Not all men assumed that. Just the ones I’d chosen to date, apparently.

And I was done with that.

I didn’t want Deacon to have expectations I couldn’t fulfill. Not that I assumed he had expectations. I was getting way ahead of myself. He might not even be interested in me, despite what Ro had said about the way he looked at me.

I had to tread carefully to set boundaries so as not to confuse him or possibly lead him on.

Because I did want him as a friend.

I did like him, and we had a lot in common. And having good friends was all I needed.

Okay, so maybe some kissing and cuddling would be nice, but in my experience, that was always construed as consent for more. Even though it wasn’t. It was just better not to start something I was expected to finish.

So, platonic friends it was.

Someone to have coffee with, talk books with, that’s all I needed.

“Are you done overthinking everything?” Ro asked.

I startled, looking up at her. “What?”

She pointed to her forehead. “You get that line right here when you’re overthinking.” I scowled at her, and she laughed. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep doing that.”

I gasped. “I will not.”

She chuckled. “I think little Merry is done.”

I looked down at the kitten on the bundle of blankets in my lap, who was milk-drunk and now looking for bed. I wiped his mouth and put him in the basket with his brother, just as there was a knock on the door.

“Oh, the reason for the overthinking is here,” Ro said.

I scowled at her over my shoulder before opening the door. Deacon was wearing jeans, a sweater and a coat, and he was holding something purple. “Deacon, come in.”

He stepped inside. “It’s seven o’clock.”

“Yes, it is,” I said. I got the feeling punctuality was important to him. “You’re right on time.”

“Hello, Deacon,” Ro said, carrying a stack of books to the table. “It’s so generous of you to help.”

He looked around the store, at the books, at the still unopened boxes, and at the pile of flattened cardboard. “It’s very messy.”

I laughed. “It is. It’s organized chaos though. We have a system.” I gestured to the books on the table. “Those have been entered into the computer, and these are yet to be done,” I said, gesturing to the unopened boxes.

It was then I realized I was still holding the small milk bottle. “Oh, I just finished feeding the boys. Which is good timing, actually, because we should be good until it’s time to go home.”

He nodded, then handed me the purple thing he was holding. “This is for you. You said you had a scarf at home, but that meant you didn’t have one here.”

Oh . . .

He got me a scarf?

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, touched by his thoughtfulness. “That’s so nice of you.”

“It’s just from work. We get them for free. It has a brand logo on it for a dog wormer. Dad said you might not want that, but at least you won’t be cold.”

Dog wormer . . .

I unfolded the scarf and sure enough, there on the purple fleece was a black, gray, and white logo on the end of it. It made me laugh again. It was the ace pride colors, and it was so utterly perfect for me.

Not that he could possibly know I was ace. It was purely coincidental but still . . .

Perfect.

“I love it,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

I wrapped it around my neck and grinned at him. “Do you like it?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

I looked at Ro, and she was smiling so fondly at me. She was such a sap. I silently told her with my well-aimed, very-pointed glare not to say anything. She took a deep breath in and let out a sigh, going for her coat.

“I’m going to go home,” she said, putting her arm through the sleeve. “I’ll take Merry and Bright with me, get them settled. If you’re not home by the time they want supper, I’ll feed them, so don’t you worry.”

If I could shoot lasers out of my eyes, I would have. She had no tact.

She picked up the basket with the kittens in it and gave us both a huge smile. “You boys be good. Don’t stay up all night,” she said with a wink at me, before going out the back door.

I sighed and turned to Deacon. “I really do appreciate you helping me. Ro needed to leave, apparently.”

“You have a lot to get done,” he said, looking at the majority of still empty shelves.

“I do, and just two more days to do it in. I want it all done by tomorrow night, if I can. Then I can spend Friday doing all the final touches, adding the display to the window, ready for the grand opening on Saturday.”

“Then we should stop talking and start working,” he said without any trace of humor.

It made me smile though. “We should. What did you want to do? You said you stock inventory at the clinic. Computer entry or sorting products?”

“Both. I do it all.”

I grinned at him. “Perfect.”

As it turned out, he was very proficient at both. I only had to show him one book entry in the software, and he was a pro in no time. And at sorting books and gifts, and organizing, categorizing. When he’d said he enjoyed doing stock inventory, he wasn’t joking.

We worked in a comfortable silence. Actually, it was more than comfortable. It was so damn easy. Enjoyable, and fun.

We got a lot done in such a short time, faster and more efficient than me and Ro working together. I guess because she and I stopped to chat more often, and not having the kittens here helped a lot.

I got so much more done when I wasn’t stopping to check on every squeak or noise.

But Deacon worked with a military precision, and I could have worked right through the night with him if he hadn’t stopped to stretch and yawn.

“Oh, look at the time,” I said, checking my phone. It was after ten. “You must be so tired. You’ve worked all day, then came to help me.”

“I like doing this,” he said.

“You’re very good at it. I got more done with you in three hours than I did with Ro in six hours.”

“I can help you tomorrow night if you’d like,” he said.

I looked around at what was left to do. “I think we’ll have the inventory done by then.”

He frowned. “Oh.” He wore his emotions for all to see, and I liked that.

“But I’ll still have the display to do, and the signage, and all the finishing touches,” I said. “If you wanted to help me with that instead. I know you said you liked inventory, so it’s fine if you’d rather not.”

“I would,” he said quickly. “I can be here at seven again.”

“I’d really appreciate that,” I said, and he beamed at me. “Your dad won’t mind missing another one of your shows with you?”

He shook his head. “No. He said this would be good for me. I don’t have many friends here, so I should help them when they need it.”

Friends.

Yep, there it was.

The word I wanted to hear. Until I’d heard it.

The stab of disappointment I felt was real.

“Friends are great,” I said, hoping he couldn’t see through my forced smile. “And helping friends is even better. I don’t have many friends here either,” I said. “Given I’ve just moved here and all.”

He nodded again, looking around the store, looking at anywhere but at me. “I like books.”

“I love them.”

He laughed then, and it was such a beautiful sound. His face lit up, his blue eyes sparkled like topaz, his pink lips smiling wide. “I love them too.”

God, I could look at him smile like that forever.

“Tell me,” I said, “how did you find the book on Japanese death poems?”

His smile died and I immediately regretted asking. “Initially, in the college library. I spent a lot of time there, and I liked the cover. It was a fascinating insight into the acceptance of fate, so I searched for more.”

Oh, how I loved that.

“I spent a lot of time in the library at my university too,” I said. “It was quiet there, and I wasn’t very social.”

He shook his head. “Me either. I did have friends there, but . . .” He shrugged.

“I get it,” I said gently. “Sometimes making friends is easy. Sometimes keeping them is hard.”

His eyes darted to mine for a brief moment before he looked away again, and he nodded. “Yes. Exactly.” Then he made a face, uncomfortable and pained. His face went a bit red, and he began to fidget.

“Deacon,” I said softly. “Are you okay?”

He shifted his weight and licked his lips. “I’d like to go home now.”

“Of course,” I said. “Want me to walk you to your car?”

He blinked a few times. “No, I’m fine.”

He didn’t seem fine.

I wanted to go to him, to put my hand on his arm, to reassure him, but we hadn’t discussed boundaries yet. “Well, I do appreciate you helping me tonight. And I’m happy you’re my friend.”

He smiled shyly then, giving me a quick glance before nodding. “I’m happy too.”

“Will I see you tomorrow at seven?”

He gave a nod. “Yes.” He put his coat on and stood at the door. “It’s cold out. Don’t forget to wear your scarf.”

I grinned at him. “I won’t.”

He ducked his head and went out the door, the bell chiming in the silence. I stood there, smiling at the door for a long moment, then remembered I had Merry and Bright at home who would no doubt be wanting another feed soon. Ro had said she’d do it, but they weren’t her responsibility.

I turned everything off and locked up, looked around one more time at just how much Deacon and I got done together, and smiled all the way home.

Ro was up, of course, waiting for me in the kitchen, mugs of hot chocolate steaming. The little monsters weren’t meowing for me yet, but it wouldn’t be long. “I just made these, so they’re hot,” she said. “And Merry and Bright are still asleep.”

I all but fell into the seat next to her.

“So?” she asked, excited. “How did it go?”

I didn’t need to ask to whom she was referring. I sighed. “I don’t know, he’s . . .”

She studied me for a long moment, and when I didn’t continue, she prompted me. “He’s what? Cute? Sweet? Thoughtful?”

I met her gaze. “Yes. He’s all those things.” I let my head fall back with a groan. “He used the f-word.”

Her brow furrowed. “He swore? He doesn’t seem the type. But just so you know, the use of profanity has been used in society for thousands of years—”

I snorted. “No. Not that f-word. He used the bad f-word. I don’t care if he cusses, gawd. Friend. He said he wanted us to be friends.”

“Oh.”

Yeah. Oh.

“I thought you didn’t . . .”

I looked at her.

“Oh.”

I groaned. “I thought I wanted that. I thought that was all I wanted. Until he said it. Then I realized maybe it wasn’t.

” I looked at her then. “Every reasonable and logical part of my brain says no. I don’t have time for this.

I don’t want or need the complication. I don’t want to disappoint him, and I don’t want to be disappointed.

I’m sick of feeling like crap for not wanting a sex life. I shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“You shouldn’t,” she said quietly, her hand sliding over mine. “Don’t put that kind of pressure on yourself. And if he just wants to be friends, well, then . . .”

I waited for her to finish imparting some beacon of wisdom that would make me feel instantly better. But nope. All she could offer was a grimace and a shrug. “I’m sorry it’s not what you wanted.”

I sighed again, long and loud. “We got a lot of work done. It’s so easy to be with him. We just click, I don’t know.” I ran my hand through my hair. “And I don’t have time for anything else right now. Finding a friend so fast is a good thing, right? So I don’t know why I feel this way.”

She sighed quietly and frowned at her hot chocolate, then at me. “The heart wants what it wants.” Then she smirked. “And apparently there’s a Christmas Cupid in this town? What’s up with that?”

I snorted, grateful for her ability to make me smile. “Weird, huh? I guess this town couldn’t be too perfect.”

“I don’t know about that.” She was quiet for a moment. “They’re predicting snow.”

“I’m actually looking forward to snow this year,” I admitted. At my old job, at my old apartment, it meant wet and gray slush. “Being in my bookstore, all warm and cozy while it snows quietly outside the front window . . .” I sighed wistfully. “It’s one hundred percent the aesthetic I’m going for.”

She chuckled just as there was a small squeak from the basket by the fire. I stood up and began to get the first bottle of milk ready. “Duty calls.”