Chapter 45 Sky
SKY
We spent the entire day shopping, and I was more than ready to go home and relax. My feet ached from walking the mall and my lower back had the weirdest of twinges, and yet my heart felt big enough to burst.
The holidays had never felt so merry and bright, just like the song always said, until I met Adam and Fletcher Rose, and I wondered if maybe, somehow, all the bad things in my life had led me to the best thing I could’ve ever wished for.
Greymercy was beautiful in December. A blanket of white covered the ground, colorful lights decorating nearly every house on the main streets as we drove back through town.
Giant blow-up Grinches and Santas billowed in the wind, and light-up reindeer lined up down one homeowner’s yard, with Rudolph in the lead, his nose cherry red.
It was cozy, and I realized that this was the first time this town had ever felt like home.
Adam pulled into the drive and killed the engine, but before Fletcher and I could get out and help, he swooped in and gathered up all the bags.
“Ah-ah,” he singsonged. “No snooping till Christmas.” With an ornery smile, he turned and waltzed up the sidewalk and into the house.
“Spoilsport,” Fletcher pouted, then nudged me. “Hey! The cookies are definitely cool enough to decorate now. Let’s go.”
Before we’d left, the three of us had spent the afternoon making sugar cookies from scratch.
When I told Fletcher I’d never made Christmas cookies before, that we always just got a package of cheap chocolate chip ones at the store, he’d gone on a tangent about how everyone needs cookies at Christmastime, and that was it.
We were making cookies.
So Adam and Fletcher taught me how to mix the dry ingredients together, and then the wet, until we got a nice firm dough.
Once the dough had set in the fridge, I helped roll it out and Fletcher brought out a plastic bag full of holiday-shaped cookie cutters.
We laughed while cutting out our cookies and lining them up on the pan, sneaking bites of cookie dough along the way.
After baking them, we’d laid them out on wax paper on the counter to cool. The house smelled like heaven. It’d been Adam’s idea to go shopping, to get us out of the house for a while so the cookies could cool.
“Look at that,” Fletcher said as we came up on the counter. “So golden and delicious.”
“Good enough to eat?” I grinned and reached for one, but Fletcher smacked my hand away.
“Not without frosting, it’s not. Luckily for us, it’s pretty easy to make. Then we get to do the fun part—decorating!” He laughed and began pulling ingredients out of the cupboards, along with a couple of mixing bowls and a hand mixer.
I watched him whip up a batch of frosting using powdered sugar, milk and vanilla. Once it was done, he separated it into bowls and added drops of food coloring to each one.
He handed me a bowl. “Start mixing, but go slow. This stuff stains. Learned that the hard way.”
I carefully folded the droplets of dark blue dye into the fluffy icing, watching as it went from bright white to a soft baby blue. Fletcher mixed up a warm red, then green, and I did yellow. The primary colors were all we needed, I guess.
“Perfect. Take these bowls to the table. I’ll put the cookies on a pan and bring them over, along with the decorations.”
I was curious about what he meant by “decorations” but carried the bowls to the kitchen table anyway. Then I fetched a roll of paper towels, because I had a feeling we’d be getting a little sticky.
By the time I finally sat down, I about groaned with relief. “Ugh, my feet…”
“Swollen?” Fletcher asked.
“Just achy, I think.” I kicked my shoes off under the table, then reached down to peel off my socks. They didn’t look swollen, at least. I flexed my toes, admiring the black toenail polish Fletcher had given me a week or so back.
I’d done his too. Adam had just chuckled and watched us from the corner of his eye while we had “pedi-night.” He declined our offer to paint his nails.
Fletcher joined me, placing a large Tupperware container on the table. It didn’t have a lid, but it was filled with an assortment of bottles and glass jars, sprinkles and edible glitter, gumdrops and little pieces of candy.
“Ta-da! Decorations.” He handed me a butter knife. “And our weapons of choice.” He paused. “Adam!”
A muffled, “What?” came from the other room.
“Get your ass in here and come decorate cookies with your Omegas,” he called back, shooting me a grin.
“Or else what?” Adam suddenly appeared in the doorway, his arms braced in the frame. I stared. I couldn’t help myself. He was so damn gorgeous.
Fletcher giggled. “You know what.”
“Enlighten me,” he said around a smile.
“Come decorate cookies with us, or else we’ll kick you out of bed tonight and have smoking-hot sex and you won’t even get to watch,” Fletcher shot back shamelessly.
Adam grasped his chest, like he’d been shot. “Damn, kitten. Claws.”
I laughed. “Sounds like you have your answer, Adam. Cookie time.”
With a hum of amusement, he joined us, and the three of us began icing cookies. I made a blue snowman with cinnamon pearl buttons, then took a big bite.
“Mmm. So good,” I mumbled through a mouthful of cookie.
“Cheater.” Fletcher laughed, then did the same, wiggling in his seat. He chewed thoughtfully, then nodded. “These are really tasty. We did good, you guys.”
“Needs some milk, though.” Adam stood and poured us each a small glass, and we took turns decorating and eating our creations until we’d had our fill.
The uneaten ones, Adam put on a plate and wrapped in plastic wrap for later.
“A late-night snack,” he teased. “They won’t last the weekend, I’m sure.”
“Guilty,” Fletcher admitted with a smile. “To the couch!”
We piled in on the couch, wrapped up in blankets and snuggled up together.
Fletcher snagged the remote before Adam could even reach for it, turning it to a Hallmark holiday special—Fletcher really liked these sappy holiday love stories, but honestly?
I kind of liked them too. They were filled with hope and happiness and everything a love story should be.
This one was about a girl who came back home years later after moving away, but everything had changed—except the guy who’d gotten away, once upon a time. I watched the movie and as the romance unfolded, I sighed.
Something was missing…
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, his fingertips skating my cheek.
“Nothing,” I said, then stopped myself. “I just wish some of these cute Hallmark movies were gay, that’s all.”
He tilted his head. “You write stories in your journals, right? So write one. Write a romantic gay screenplay and pitch it to Hallmark.”
I huffed. “Right. That’ll never happen.”
“You never know, Sky,” Fletcher said, his green eyes soft. “Miracles happen every day. Look at you.”
I glanced between my two mates, then touched the bump of my tummy. They had a point. “Yeah. You’re right. They do.” With that, I snuggled back in and watched the rest of the movie with a smile on my face.