This time Steve couldn’t hold back the explosion of laughter. Trust Corey to know dirty Santa jokes. Once he got over the fit of giggles, he found himself locking eyes with Corey again.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” At Corey’s nod, he continued. “I know you said you haven’t found the right man, but I’m really surprised you don’t have someone special in your life.”
Corey looked briefly down at the coffee he held in his hands, then met Steve’s gaze again. His dark eyes held a hint of sadness. “Truth be told, after my last one, I haven’t been looking.”
“But that was a year ago. Don’t you get lonely? Someone as funny and caring as you, I thought you’d have the guys lined up. You’d be able to take your pick, have the cream of the crop.”
A blush crept across Corey’s cheeks. “Oh, I don’t have any trouble getting the guys. Just not the guy I want.”
“You have your eye on someone?”
“More than my eye. I think he might even have a bit of my heart.”
A pang shot through Steve’s own heart. While he didn’t want Corey to be hurting as he pined over someone, he hated the idea of Corey wanting someone else. In fact, the level of jealousy that rose up surprised him. “I’m sorry. That you’re alone, I mean. It must be awful to want someone for so long and know you can’t have them.”
“No need to be sorry.” Corey smiled. “I’m hoping things might be changing real soon.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh. I didn’t want to make a move before. It didn’t feel right showing my hand when I knew he was with someone else. I’d never move in on someone else’s guy,” Corey explained. God, Steve admired those ethics.
“Then why”—Steve waved his hand between the two of them—“this? If your heart belongs to someone else?”
“Oh God, you are dense sometimes.” Corey rolled his eyes. “It’s you, you idiot. You’re the one.”
Steve’s heart swelled. “Yeah?” He felt his smile widen, not caring he was grinning like a fool.
“Yes. You.”
* * *
A little while later there was a knock at the door.
“Coming in, ready or not.” Mal opened the bedroom door and poked his head in. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see Corey propped up on Steve’s bed. “Merry Christmas, guys. Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time to get a move on if we’re to have Christmas lunch on the table at a time that can still be called lunch.”
“Can’t we have Christmas dinner instead?” Corey suggested. An evening meal sounded like a great idea to Steve too. After a restless night, the thought of lying around with Corey was much more appealing than a boisterous afternoon with the boys.
“Bah humbug. Where’s your Christmas spirit? It’s lunch.” Mal’s tone didn’t brook any argument. He glanced from Corey to Steve, as if suddenly remembering Steve’s injury. “How are you feeling, Steve? Your hands any better?”
“It’s my wrists. They’re okay. A bit better, I guess. Corey’s been looking after me and helping take my mind off the pain.”
Mal burst into laughter. “Oh, I’m sure he has.”
Steve blushed. “I mean like a nurse.”
Mal snorted. “Nursing? Is that what they’re calling it these days? I don’t recall that type of nursing service when I broke my leg.” He was still chuckling as he left the room.
A couple of hours later they were seated around the table that was covered in the remnants of Christmas lunch. A platter held the remains of a half-eaten turkey—it’d been a bit dry, but not too bad for Matt’s first attempt at cooking a bird—and bowls that only an hour ago had been filled to overflowing with roasted potatoes, steamed beans, a salad and gravy. Bits of multicoloured paper from the bonbons littered the table’s surface, together with the little slips of paper with terrible Christmas jokes. Ken still wore his purple hat, but the others had removed theirs, as the plastic hats not only looked silly, they were hot as hell.
As he glanced around at his friends, Steve thought once again how Aussies were bonkers to spend Christmas sitting around in the sun eating hot food and wearing sweaty hats that came in Christmas crackers.
He grinned when he caught sight of the “Christmas tree” Corey had fashioned out of a bare branch from a gum tree. He’d adorned it with the finds from their bushwalk—feathers, pine cones, gumnuts and flowers—and had whispered to Steve, “See? Never say never.” That handmade, rustic tree was one of the nicest Christmas presents Steve had ever received.
Malcolm pushing away from the table drew Steve’s attention back to his friends. “So, who’s for dessert? Pudding, anyone?” Mal asked.
Steve groaned, and not because his belly was full. “I don’t ever want to see that bloody pudding again.”
“I thought you’d love that pudding,” Douglas said.
