Chapter 20
Brent rubbed his forehead as if he felt a headache coming on. “Let me get this straight. Instead of Coco’s boyfriend, you’re actually her PR handler?”
“Correct.”
“And you’re not really here to celebrate the holidays, but to keep her out of the spotlight so she doesn’t set off another Hollywood tabloid scandal before her big Christmas movie premiere?”
“Right again.”
Brent sucked in a heavy breath as he processed the revelations. “And you’re…gay?”
“As the day is long,” Graham replied with a chuckle.
Brent released his breath with a sigh. “Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said you had some explaining to do.”
The comment drew a lopsided smile from Graham. “But, hey, good news is you don’t have to worry about being the other woman anymore.” He gave his companion a good-natured punch on the arm.
Brent feigned an attempt at a chuckle.
Turning his gaze skyward, Graham let a beat pass as he took in the northern lights still dancing above.
“It wasn’t my intention to lie to you, Brent.
” He gave a gentle scoff. “Heck, nothing about this trip so far has been what I planned.” He reached out to take Brent’s hand in his.
“You can see, though, why I had to keep things on the down-low, right? Please don’t be upset with me. ”
A long silence passed as Brent bit his lip in thought. “Nah, you had your reasons,” he finally replied.
At this, a full-body sigh let loose from Graham.
Brent scratched his head, contemplating. “I gotta say, though, it sure seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to for some job.”
“This isn’t just some job,” Graham hastily corrected. “This would be the job. If I pull this off, Brent, it could be my ticket to the promotion of my dreams.”
Now it was Brent’s turn to scoff. “You’re really something, Graham Bartlett. You know that?”
The remark cocked Graham’s head to the side. “Oh? How so?”
“It was always clear you were going places. Even back in high school, you were top of the honor roll, president of the student council, captain of the debate team. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you chose life in the fast lane.
” He also turned his gaze skyward. “I just hope it doesn’t catch up with you one day. ”
Graham felt himself bristle at the remark. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just that it’s the holidays, Graham, the season of cheer. And you, my friend, are a giant ball of stress.”
“Because for me, Christmas is stress. If you had any idea the pile of work on my plate, the amount of pressure I’m under, then let me tell you—”
Brent cleared his throat audibly, and just like that, Graham zipped his lips. Wordless, the pair stood in the quiet.
“You know,” Graham said, breaking the silence, “there used to be a time when I enjoyed the holidays, if you can believe that. Now, all Christmas means is more to do, more people to please, and less time with which to make it all happen.”
Brent nodded, considering. “You do know it doesn’t have to be that way, right?”
Graham balked as if he’d just heard a joke.
“I’m serious,” Brent defended. “Take Mistletoe Grove, for instance. Granted, we don’t draw in quite the crowds that we used to, but all things considered, I’d still say the holidays are pretty magical here.”
The comment creased Graham’s brow. “Don’t you worry, though?
Tourists coming here for the holidays is what’s kept this place alive.
” He gazed down at the streets lit up below the hill.
He had to give these townies credit—they certainly had persistence.
But without anyone coming to soak up Mistletoe Grove’s Christmas spirit, it was clear this community’s days were numbered.
“Watching your livelihood disappear before your eyes certainly sounds stressful to me.”
Brent seemed to sober at the remark. “It’s certainly true that, without the holiday crowds in town, The Cozy Mug has taken a real hit.
” He looked up at the sky as if to seek solace.
“But you can’t spend your life worrying, you know?
Especially not during the holidays. After all, this is the season of cheer, right? ”
Graham nodded absently as his thoughts turned inward. Geez, wouldn’t it be nice to see the world the way Brent did. That was probably just what happened when you lived in Mistletoe Grove—everything in life came at you through rose-colored glasses.
Then again, on the other hand, could it have been that Graham’s years in LA had simply turned everything gray?
Before he could answer the question, though, he found himself shaken from his thoughts by Brent’s voice. “Whatever you’re hoping for out of life in the big leagues, I just hope it’s worth it.”
It felt to Graham as if gravity had just doubled then.
All of a sudden, the two men became distracted by a bright light above. Eyes wide, they turned their faces skyward toward a brilliant flare in the northern lights overhead.
“Wow,” Graham cooed, “that really is beautiful.”
“Not half as beautiful,” responded Brent, “as the guy I’m looking at now.”
Graham felt his cheeks turn crimson as he met eyes with the gorgeous man standing next to him.
At this, Brent bit his lip nervously. “Feel free to say no if you want, but what do you say we take this back to my place?”
Graham didn’t think he’d ever said yes so fast in his life.
* * *
Back to my place. There was no doubt about what that meant in LA. Here, though—well, that was a different story. Mistletoe Grove was so pure and wholesome, here getting on your knees probably still meant going to church.
Brent, though, was anything but pure. At least, the devilish glint in his eyes as he drove Graham back to his place sure seemed to suggest so.
Which begged the question—where exactly was Brent’s place? Knowing Brent’s Insta-curated lifestyle, he probably lived in some rustic, Christmas-y log cabin, Graham figured.
Hence his surprise just a few minutes later when he found themselves standing out front The Cozy Mug.
“Welcome home,” Brent said with a smile.
Graham arched a skeptical eyebrow. “You live here?”
“Sure do,” Brent replied, oblivious to the apprehension in Graham’s voice. “I’ve got an apartment above the shop. She may not be much, but she’s all mine.”
Graham waited as Brent worked to unlock the shop door. “Somehow, I pictured you hanging your hat in something out of Log Cabin Living.” He chortled at his remark.
The laugh, however, went unshared.
“Well, as a matter of fact,” Brent said, suddenly becoming self-conscious, “there was a time I had a cozy little place down by Miller’s Creek…”
A beat of silence passed as Brent seemed to drift off to a far, distant past.
Until, that is, he abruptly shook himself out of it. “But, you know what, it’s a long story. Come on, let’s go inside.” He opened the door for Graham.
Who, deciding it best not to press the matter, proceeded promptly over the threshold.
His body felt warmer instantly. And not just because they were no longer outside. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about entering Brent’s humble, little cocoa shop seemed to take the chill off in more ways than one.
He eyed through the darkness the rows of clean mugs stacked lovingly behind the bar. The collection of chairs turned up on the café tabletops. The empty bakery cabinet ready for a fresh delivery of tomorrow morning’s goodies. This was The Cozy Mug that most people didn’t get a chance to see.
The Brent Danvers that most people didn’t get a chance to see.
Taking in the empty shop prepped for the morning ahead, it was clear the love Brent poured into this place. It couldn’t have been easy, either—running a shop like this single-handedly.
A small pang of guilt registered deep in Graham’s stomach. As silly as it was, a whole shop dedicated to hot cocoa, perhaps he shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss something that had so clearly sparked Brent’s passion.
“So, why hot cocoa?”
Brent quirked his head as if Graham had just spoken Greek. “What do you mean?”
Graham shrugged self-consciously, hoping he hadn’t just offended his host. “Well, it’s just that it’s a bit…I mean, you have to admit it’s kind of…What I mean to say is, doesn’t it feel a little…”
“Silly?” Brent finally finished.
“Those are your words,” Graham protested, “not mine.”
Brent shook his head in spite of himself. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended.” He motioned for Graham to take a seat with him at the bar. “In fact, that’s exactly what I love about hot cocoa.”
Graham furrowed his brow as he sat himself next to Brent. “Come again?”
At this, Brent smirked playfully.
Graham just rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Chastened, Brent furrowed his brow in thought.
“It’s like this. Hot cocoa—it isn’t anything special, it isn’t anything fancy.
Heck, you can get it in a powder. And that’s all people ever think it can be—just a simple, boring drink that hasn’t been worth getting excited over since we were twelve.
But that’s not true, Graham. If you actually take the time, you find out that hot cocoa can be so much more than what people give it credit for. ”
He took a centering breath. “I guess what I find interesting about hot cocoa is, it’s underestimated.” He cast his gaze around the empty shop, eventually meeting eyes with his guest. “Kind of like Mistletoe Grove, I suppose.”
A beat of silence passed as Graham processed Brent’s words.
“But the thing is,” he went on, “once you learn not to overlook us—it—you see that hot cocoa’s still got a lot to give. You just have to give it a chance.”
Their eye contact broke abruptly as, embarrassed, Brent averted his gaze downward. “Sorry, that must be about the corniest thing you’ve ever heard, right?”
The corners of Graham’s lips curled up in a smile. “It is,” he admitted. “But you know what? It’s also just about the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard, too.” He leaned in and claimed Brent’s mouth with a kiss.
During which he also claimed another part of Brent’s anatomy by inserting a hand between his legs. “You make me want to do unspeakable things, Brent.”
Judging by the twitch Graham felt then underneath Brent’s jeans, clearly his companion liked the sound of that. He began to slowly massage the increasingly firm bulge growing underneath Brent’s denim.
“Not here,” Brent said. He gripped Graham’s wrist to pause the tantalizing foreplay. “Someone could see.” He flicked a glance toward the large shop windows.
“Doesn’t bother me,” Graham replied with a wicked eyebrow wiggle.
Brent just shook his head to himself. “Come on, tiger. I’m taking you upstairs.”
“Meow.”
“Provided you never say that again.”
Bright red flooded Graham’s cheeks. “Noted.”
Smiling, Brent shook his head to himself. “Follow me.”