Jamie stood off to the side, heart still thudding from the chaos that had just unfolded. Tom and Daddy Spencer had gone full fists—no holding back, no polite restraint—and now Tom was walking away, nursing his bruised ego with Billy trailing behind like a confused little duckling.
Jamie watched them go, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. Tom’s blazer was still perfectly in place, of course, like even his fights had to be curated. Billy’s red mask hung crooked on his face, and his long blond hair bounced with every dramatic step. They looked ridiculous. Like villains in a soap opera who’d just been told their screen time was up.
Nathan and Alfie rushed in, both looking flustered but firm. Nathan’s voice cut through the music, sharp and final. “Tom, Billy—you’re done. Party’s over for you. Time to go.”
Alfie crossed his arms, standing beside Nathan like backup muscle. “We don’t tolerate this kind of drama. You’re out.”
Tom fumed but didn’t argue. He knew better than to push it. Billy looked like he might cry or throw a tantrum—maybe both—but even he knew the game was up. They turned toward the exit, Tom’s jaw tight, Billy pouting like someone had taken away his favorite toy.
Jamie felt a strange mix of emotions watching them get kicked out. Satisfaction for sure. There was something deeply gratifying about seeing Tom escorted out like a misbehaving guest. But also a flicker of sadness—because once, Tom had been someone Jamie trusted. Someone he’d tried to love. And now he was just a guy getting booted from a Christmas party for being the asshole that he was.
Then Daddy Spencer stepped up behind them, card in hand. Jamie’s breath caught.
“Tom,” Daddy Spencer said, voice low but firm. “Ship Jamie’s things to this address.”
Tom paused, took the card without a word, and stuffed it into his pocket like it were nothing. He gave a stiff nod, then kept walking.
Jamie watched it all, feeling the weight of it settle in his chest. That card held the last thread tying him to Tom. And Daddy Spencer had handed it over like a final move in a game Jamie didn’t want to play anymore.
As the door shut behind them, Jamie exhaled. It was over. The fight, the ghosts of old relationships. Tom and Billy were out, and he was still here—with Daddy Spencer, with warmth, with something real.
And for the first time in a long time, Jamie felt free.
“You okay?” Daddy Spencer asked.
Jamie nodded slowly. “I am now.”
They stood there, staring at one another, surrounded by glitter and chaos.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Spencer
Spencer watched the room settle after the chaos, the tension slowly bleeding out of the air like steam from a kettle. People had gone back to their activities—some playing icebreaker games, others chatting in cozy corners or laughing over spiked punch. A few couples had drifted toward the dance floor, swaying under the soft glow of string lights and the faint shimmer of fake snow falling from a machine tucked into the rafters.
“Can I talk to you outside?” Jamie asked.
“Sure can.”
Spencer felt the cold air hit his face as he stepped out onto the porch, Jamie’s hand warm in his. The snow crunched beneath their boots, and the quiet outside the cabin was a welcome break from the noise and tension inside. Jamie had asked to talk, and Spencer didn’t hesitate. Whatever it was, he wanted to hear it.
They stopped near the railing, breath visible in the crisp night air. Spencer turned to him, and his brows furrowed. “What’s going on?”
Jamie looked down for a second, then met his eyes. “I want you to know I never took money from Tom. Never.”
Spencer didn’t even flinch. He pulled Jamie into his arms without thinking, wrapping him up like he could shield him from every cruel word Tom had ever thrown. “I know you didn’t,” he said softly. “And even if you had, that’s not my business. We both have a past. I can see exactly what Tom is—a liar and a control freak.”
Jamie nodded, but his voice cracked a little. “Yeah. I think we had an open relationship… but I was never told. I thought it was just us. He’s not out because of his job, so he refused to be seen in public with me.”
Spencer felt something twist in his chest. That hit too close to home.
He looked out over the snow-covered trees, his thoughts drifting to Montana. To the ranch. To the place he’d called home for years but never really felt safe enough to be fully himself. He wasn’t out there either. Not really. People knew he lived alone, worked hard, and kept to himself. But they didn’t know he was gay. Not yet.
He’d planned to bring Jamie back, let people see them together, maybe ease into it. But now, hearing Jamie talk about being hidden, about being made to feel like a secret—it made Spencer’s stomach churn. That slow, quiet plan wasn’t going to cut it. Not if he wanted this to last. Not if he wanted to be better than Tom.
He’d been thinking about selling the ranch anyway. The upkeep was constant, the winters brutal, and sometimes the loneliness crept in too deep. But part of him clung to it because of the promise he’d made to his grandfather. To keep it going. To hold onto the land that had raised him.
But now? He wasn’t sure. Was staying worth risking a relationship that could be everything? Was honoring a promise to the past more important than building a future with Jamie?
