“I like that you’ve mixed it up a bit. Spreading the love, so to speak. It appears that you’ve been a good influence on the committee.”
Aaron pondered the comment a moment. “Oh, no. Don’t get me wrong, I think giving money to the support center is great, but it wasn’t my idea. It was your mom.”
“Really?” Hunter’s brows drew together. “I… ah… right. That’s good then. A great cause, and hopefully we’ll raise a ton of money for them. I’m happy to be doing my bit. Not that I wouldn’t have done the same thing for the hospital.”
Hunter continued to surprise him, with both his generosity and his motivations.
“Someone’s going to be very lucky to have a home redecoration courtesy of you.”
“I hope so.” Hunter smiled, this time the smile making its way to his eyes, some of the earlier tension fleeing. “Anyway, I’d better get going. No rest for the wicked and all that. Plus I need to escape this god-awful Christmas music.”
“Hey! You need carols at Christmas.”
Hunter laughed. “You always did have a soft spot for everything Christmas.” He gathered his coat and scarf from where he’d flung them over the stool behind the counter and headed toward the door, pausing to shrug back into his coat. Aaron couldn’t help but notice Hunter had stopped right under the sprig of mistletoe he always hung from the ceiling. Hunter was winding the scarf around his neck. Aaron couldn’t take his eyes from the scarf—the scarf he’d given Hunter one Christmas so long ago. They’d done a silly secret Santa exchange, in which Aaron had received a novelty pair of boxers and Hunter had received the scarf in return. Aaron had pleaded with his grandma to knit a Christmas pattern, and the resulting scarf was adorned with little emblems of candles with holly berries and leaves at their base. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on who you asked, his gran’s skills for finer work had deteriorated over time, and the design resembled tiny penises and balls. They’d cracked up at the time, and Hunter had sworn he’d wear the scarf, but Aaron had never seen it again. To now view it wrapped around Hunter’s throat caused his eyes to prickle with unshed tears.So many memories.
He looked away and blinked furiously so Hunter wouldn’t notice his emotion. His gaze was drawn to the mistletoe again. He bit the inside of his cheek.Should I?He met Hunter’s eyes. His breath caught at the look he saw reflected back at him. He stepped closer, too close for casual contact. Close enough to see the golden glints in Hunter’s brown eyes.
Hunter seemed to sense his intention, and his arms dropped to his sides. Aaron inched slowly forward, giving him a chance to put a halt to what was about to happen, but Hunter kept his footing, his nostrils flaring as he looked directly at Aaron.He wants this as much as I do.The thought was astonishing. Aaron smiled and tilted his head upwards. Hunter bent his head slightly, and they came together. One minute Aaron was doubting his choices, questioning his own sanity, and the next he was locked in Hunter’s arms, desperately kissing him. And damn, it was like nothing had changed, but at the same time, everything had. Hunter tasted familiar, but his hold was stronger, his kiss was harder, his stubble scraping as he angled Aaron’s face to kiss him deeper and wetter.Oh, God.Every drop of blood in Aaron’s body headed to his dick, and the oxygen left his brain, leaving him swaying on his feet. If Hunter hadn’t hauled him against his chest, Aaron was sure he would have melted into a puddle on the floor. His heart thudded, and distantly, he heard bells chiming—
Hunter released him and stepped back suddenly. Thank God he kept one hand wrapped around Aaron’s biceps or else he would have lost his footing. “Wha—”
“Thanks, Aaron. I’ll let the printer know of the changes and get the programs organized.”
Hunter’s tone was all business, while Aaron was still struggling to get his head around the complete one-eighty. It wasn’t until he became aware of the customers coming through the now open door that it made sense.
“Oh, right.” He blinked and tried to focus. “Yeah, sure. The program. That’d be great. Thanks for everything.”
Hunter waggled his brows. “It was my pleasure. I’m happy to help out. Anytime and inanyway. Just say the word, Aaron, and I’ll be here.”
Damn, Hunter.His meaning was obvious in his penetrating gaze. Aaron looked away and straightened his shirt, as if making sure he was all put together on the outside would make up for the swirling mess he was on the inside. “Bastard,” he muttered under his breath.
Hunter chuckled as he left the store.
Aaron greeted his customers, then his gaze drifted to the ceiling again and that damned sprig of mistletoe. He’d hung it from the ceiling as a joke. After all, how could he be the most Christmassy guy in town if he didn’t have mistletoe? But now it appeared the joke was on him.
9
Hunter jogged down the stairs, his mood lighter than it had been in… well, it felt like forever. It was as if the brief time he’d spent with Aaron had rejuvenated his soul. If he was perfectly honest with himself, the feelings that had resurfaced were a surprise. He’d spent so long convincing himself that Aaron didn’t deserve his time, that feeling the opposite, wanting tobewith Aaron, was strange. When he was younger, he used to crave the time he spent with Aaron, but when he’d been pushed away, he’d closed himself off. Being rejected had hurt so damned much. He’d thrown himself headfirst into his studies and then setting up his business and told himself he didn’t need anyone, didn’t need a relationship. With a relationship like his parents’ as an example, it wasn’t unexpected. The only true relationship he witnessed, one based on love and honesty and acceptance, was Brooke and Freddy’s. They’d managed to find each other and had a love that was rare. They cherished each other and didn’t throw their love away; they fought for what they wanted, and what they wanted was each other. Hunter had resigned himself to not having that kind of love for himself, but now? Now the tendrils of possibility were finding their way into his heart.
He hit the marble foyer with a bounce in his step, only coming up short when he reached the kitchen. The kitchen was a hub of activity—his mom at the stove cooking, Dad and Freddy discussing an article from the newspaper, and Brooke tapping away on her phone, while the kids sat at one end of the table eating bowls of cereal. It looked like one big happy family, especially when Gabby looked up with a gap-toothed grin. “Uncle Hunter!”
“Hey, kiddo.” He ruffled her hair as he made it way past to the coffeepot.
“Can we watch cartoons today?”
He sat down with his coffee. “That depends on your mom and dad and what plans they have today.”
“Here we go.” His mom placed a large platter of pancakes on the table, then proceeded to swap out the cereal bowls and place a pancake on each of the kid’s plates.
He resisted a smirk as she forked two huge pancakes onto the plate in front of him. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome, darling.” She rushed around the table to grab the jug from Cameron. “Be careful, you’ll get syrup everywhere. I think you’ve got quite enough.”
Cameron looked chagrined, and Hunter remembered that feeling. Most meals when he was growing up were full of rules and rebukes.Don’t eat like that, Hunter. The small fork is for the appetizer. Use your napkin or people will think you’re uncouth.
He took the jug from his mom when she passed it to him, pouring a generous amount of maple syrup. So much that it pooled on the plate and surrounded the pancakes like a moat. He winked at Cameron as he placed the nearly empty jug on the table, happy to receive a toothy grin in return.
“I heard you were at the tavern the night before last,” Melody said, taking her seat.
