Chapter 6 #3
“Yeah. These people would be alone or shoved unceremoniously onto an invite list, if they weren’t here. That’s special, Taylor.”
Taylor was special, himself, and Rocco was just beginning to understand how much.
“Thanks,” Taylor said, ducking his head, in between bites of turkey and mashed potatoes. “Your lasagna is amazing, and it’s a big hit.”
The foil dish he’d made was already half gone.
He’d been worried because it wasn’t traditional, but more than one person had come up to him and mentioned how much they’d enjoyed it.
Maybe the town wasn’t willing to eat a turmeric and goat cheese scone, but if he wrapped up his different flavors in a more traditional wrapping .
. .well, they might be willing to give it a chance.
Mason, who Taylor had said was new in town, too, and ran the Holiday Hope Foundation, stuck a fork into his mashed potatoes.
“I’m so glad I came. Thanks again for inviting me.
I felt . . .well, it’s weird to spend the holiday away from my family, it turns out. Even when they make me a little crazy.”
Rocco nodded. “Trust me, I know all about that. Mine is nuts, the quintessential Italian family that’s too big, too nosy, too involved, but when they’re not around . . .sometimes it’s too quiet.”
“Yep. Mine’s not big, but it’s still been weird to be away from them,” Mason said. He turned to Taylor. “What about you? What brings you to the single mingle?”
“Uh . . .well . . .my dad’s in Chicago. Doesn’t get out here much. So it just made sense,” Taylor said.
Mason nodded and they all fell to eating in earnest.
Rocco had noticed that twice now when family had come up, Taylor had been vague and/or changed the subject. There was a story there, and even if Taylor wasn’t required to tell him, he still wanted to hear it.
Maybe in the next few weeks, he could convince Taylor to share more of his own history. After all, he’d gotten him to drink an entire marzipan latte, and that certainly hadn’t been easy. But he’d been right; it was exactly what Taylor had needed to try coffee and even more, enjoy coffee.
It would be so easy to convince him to enjoy you, that uncooperative voice in the back of his head insisted. You could do it. He’d like it. You’d like it.
But now it wouldn’t be uncomplicated pleasure.
It would be more than that. Even when both of them had said they didn’t want to date anyone.
Rocco still believed that was true on his end.
His plate was full, but would he have shifted some things around to make the time?
Time for real dates? Sure, he might’ve, if the guy he’d be dating was Taylor.
But Taylor seemed more sure of not wanting it, even as he seemed undeniably interested. Maybe the reason for that was more of that history he didn’t want to talk about.
“Mona approached me about writing a statement for your job application,” Mason told Taylor when they’d finished cleaning their plates. “When she told me why you’d need it, I said, of course, no question about it.” He paused. “But I did wonder why you didn’t ask me yourself.”
Taylor flushed. Rocco watched as the redness climbed up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Uh . . .’cause I’m really bad at asking for stuff like that?”
He was, Rocco was beginning to see that. Taylor was always working behind the scenes, making everyone’s life in Christmas Falls better, but he never wanted to take public credit for it.
But he should. Everyone should know how hard Taylor worked.
“Well, I’m happy to do it,” Mason said earnestly. “I’m glad she asked me.”
“I didn’t even know she had, but it makes sense,” Taylor admitted.
“She’s really trying to get you this job,” Rocco said.
“Yeah,” Taylor said.
Rocco could see the emotion flash across Taylor’s face, and he glanced away, like he was afraid he’d be overcome by it.
“You’ve worked for her long?”
“Four years,” Taylor said. “One as her assistant, three as deputy mayor. I almost . . .I almost missed out on the opportunity, to begin with, even though I’d really, really, wanted to move here, and work here. But I almost screwed it up, and she still moved heaven and earth to get me here.”
“She’s a good mayor. And you’re a great deputy,” Mason said, sounding like he meant every word. Maybe neither of them had been here long, but Rocco had seen the same thing, the first time he’d come here, to take a look at the coffee shop and sign the papers.
He’d known the moment he’d met Mona Grayson that she was the kind of mayor he wanted in the town where he built his new business.
Of course, then he’d met Taylor, and he’d felt the effects of that meeting long after Taylor had walked back out of his life.
“Thanks,” Taylor said, shooting Rocco a grateful smile.
“Sounds like she’s a great mentor, too,” Mason said.
“The best,” Taylor agreed.
As they finished up, grabbing a few slices of pie to go, Rocco realized that was another mystery to add to the ones he already knew existed in Taylor. What he’d done to potentially fuck up his position here, the first time around.
Rocco wanted to ask, and almost did, as Taylor walked him back to the coffee shop, but it was beautiful in downtown, the last leaves falling, mixing with the snowflakes dancing on the wind, the two of them walking in a silence that he’d never assumed would be so reassuring, but was, so he didn’t.
Of course the moment after Taylor helped him get the food in his fridge and then said goodbye, gaze lingering on Rocco right before he turned to go, Rocco wished he’d done it.
As he walked up to his upstairs apartment, he pulled out his phone.
Thanks again for inviting me, he texted to Taylor. I had such a great time.
You’re welcome. It was the best one yet.
Rocco wondered if it was because he’d been there, with Taylor, but he didn’t ask that because how was Taylor supposed to answer? There was no right answer there.
But he hoped, anyway. Then a second text from Taylor came in. You going to the parade on Friday?
I wasn’t planning on it, Rocco texted back, but I have a feeling I’ll be going now.
I have great seats, and a plus one. Can’t think of anyone else I’d rather invite than my fake boyfriend.
Rocco stared at his phone before tossing it onto his bed.
He wished Taylor hadn’t added that fake to the boyfriend and wished that he hadn’t wished that at all.
Because this was already complicated enough.