The Stockings Were Hung Read online

  The Stockings Were Hung

  By Cassie Sweet

  Hill hates Christmas.

  The shoppers. The cheer. The drama. All of it.

  Each holiday season is a painful reminder that seven years before, his lover, Drew, walked out of his life and moved across the country, leaving Hill like a cup of rotten eggnog. Now Drew is back and wants Hill to put a little jingle in his bells. Well, not this Scrooge.

  Drew admits he moved to get away from Hill—but not for the reasons Drew gave him all those years ago. Some of his best memories are of Christmases he celebrated with Hill, and he wants nothing more than to spend a little holly jolly with the only man he’s ever loved. However, getting Hill to agree to a reunion is going to take a Christmas miracle.

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  By Cassie Sweet

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  Copyright

  It Begins….

  HILL PUSHED his way out of the store as throngs of rabid shoppers tried to shove their way inside. God, it was worse than spawning season on the river. Didn’t anyone believe in the power of online shopping and UPS delivery? Each heartbeat brought his blood pressure closer to the stroke range.

  After an elbow to his kidney by some little old lady and a hit to his shin with her walker, he was outside. He took a big gulp of crisp winter air and held it for a count of ten. Slowly, he let his breath out and tried to regain some sense of zen, but it had blown out with his breath. Retrieving a calm center was pointless at ground zero of the holiday Armageddon.

  Why did he even bother? He didn’t even like Christmas and hadn’t for some time. The holiday had become an excuse for his family to get together and see which one could out-drama the others. Forget hanging with his friends—save Jen. Most of the others went away for winter vacations, and he wasn’t about to ask to tag along to visit someone else’s personal family hell.

  He stepped off the curb and into a puddle, submerging his suede shoes in six inches of icy water.

  “Damn.”

  At some point the day got so awful it required a good hearty laugh, because no matter what else happened, it wasn’t going to get any better. No, he’d pretty much been swallowed by the abyss of Christmas cheer.

  Each step to his car was made with an odd squish-creak from his right foot. It sounded like he needed a good dose of WD-40 on his shoe. The sound was so ridiculous he laughed as he opened his door and got in his car. He started the engine, then set about fastening his seat belt. Hair on the back of his neck tingled. He glanced up and slammed into a pair of the most gorgeous crystal-blue eyes he’d ever seen staring at him from the car parked next to him. The rest of the package wasn’t bad either.

  Memories of another pair of blue eyes hit him square in the chest.

  He pushed the unwanted images away. Nope. Not going there. The day already sucked hard-boiled eggs, and he wasn’t going to knock it over the edge by thinking of him. He was the entire reason Hill hated the holidays.

  At a loss for why he was the subject of a handsome stranger’s fascination, he nodded and put the car in reverse.

  What was that all about? Hadn’t the dude ever seen anyone step into a mud puddle before? Was there no mud on Mt. Olympus?

  He pulled up to the red light, waiting to get out of the shopping center parking, and reflexively checked his appearance in the rearview mirror. All right. His face was clear. No large boogers hanging from his nose. No mustard and ketchup mustache, courtesy of the food court. He ran a hand through his hair—yeah, so he could use a trim, but that was no reason to stare at a guy.

  Next stop, Paranoia City.

  Tis the season to go batty… fa la la la la… la la… la… la. Curb the sweets or get all fatty… fa la la la la… la la… la… la.

  The car behind him honked their horn. Damn, he missed the light change while making up inappropriate Christmas carols in his head.

  Traffic was ridiculous. Didn’t anyone stay home to veg anymore?

  His phone beeped, and he hit the hands-free connect. “Hill.”

  “Hey, Hillie. It’s Jen. Why don’t you come by and have an eggnog and some of my famous homemade lasagna with me? We’re putting up the tree tonight.”

  Hill raised a brow. “We’re? Is Kong going to help you? Or are you back with what’s-his-jerk?”

  Kong was Jennifer Knightly’s hundred-pound malamute with delusions of being a lap dog. He was a sweet nuisance with no real sense of body proportion. Having him anywhere near a Christmas tree or delicate decorations was cause for alarm. What’s-his-jerk was Jen’s most recent ex of a boyfriend, who had cheated on her with a twenty-year-old stripper who possessed fewer brain cells than Kong.

  Hill had known Jen since they were in elementary school. For some reason she’d hitched her fate to his sorry ass and tried to get him to pull himself together in every possible way. Mostly her attempts at humanizing and civilizing him had worked. It just hadn’t changed his outlook on Christmas or the general holiday season.

  Every year, from the last Thursday in November until January second, his mood took a decided nosedive, and Hill spent about six weeks trying to appear joyful and triumphant. It hadn’t worked in seven years, and he doubted it would this year, but as Jen was his BFF and he was seriously miffed on the subject of his wet shoe, he could really use one of her hundred-proof eggnogs.

  “I’m on the road now. I’ll swing by there on my way home.”

  “You sound like you’ve had a shit day.” Her compassion for his moody ass came through the phone loud and clear. It was like getting a verbal hug.

  “What time of year is it?”

  “’Nuff said. See you in a few.” The line went dead.

  He turned onto Beach Avenue and made a beeline for the package store. Tinsel and lights were draped like a drunken harlot on the slated roof of Oscar’s Fine Liquors. It made Hill wonder how much Oscar had imbibed before he climbed the ladder to put them up. The man was a trauma waiting to happen.

  He hurried and grabbed the ingredients for butterscotch martinis—Jen’s favorite—and a couple of bottles of red wine. Not that he liked wine all that much or even knew much about it, but it was a gesture one made during the holidays, and he was nothing if not a decent guy.

  By the time he got to Jen’s, Kong had the Christmas tree in his mouth and was dragging it around the yard, playing keep-away with the world’s largest stick. Jen was laughing so hard watching the antics of her furry roommate that she couldn’t even manage to make a decent grab for the now slobber-soaked trunk.

  Hill set the bag on the back porch and squished his way into the backyard. “You aren’t going to have any needles left on it when you finally wrestle it out of his jaws.”

  “Then I’ll just hang more ornaments on it to even it up.”

  Hill swooped in with his right hand just as Kong pulled away with a playful growl. The dog trotted to the back of the property, tail wagging wildly.

  “You should’ve bought two trees. One for Kong and one to decorate. We aren’t going to get anywhere with this until he’s ready to stop playing.”

  Jen threw her hands up in defeat and walked to the porch. “What’d you bring?”

  He gave a shrug. “Stuff for ’scotchies and some wine. Nothing major.”

  “I have dinner in the oven. You want to stay?”

  “You did promise dinner when you called.” He took a few steps, and his wet shoe made a horrible noise.

  Jen looked down. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Stepped in a puddle.”

  “Oh, no. Not your suedes? Did you spray that sealant on them like I told you?” Jen went to the door and walke
d into the kitchen.

  A fragrance born from the gods wafted outside. The scent of herbs and tomato sauce filled the kitchen and dining area. His mouth watered and stomach rolled. The burger he’d eaten at the mall was no match for some of Jen’s homemade lasagna.

  Hill narrowed his eyes. Immediate suspicion filled his gut. She didn’t make the dish that often, as it was time-consuming. She made and pressed her own noodles and cooked the sauce all day.

  “What’s the occasion?”

  Jen made a face as she uncorked the wine. “Oh, nothing. Just thought I’d make a nice dinner for my two favorite men.”

  “Two?” Hill leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “Who else is here?”

  “Drew. Don’t worry. He’s not here yet. At least not at the moment.” The wine glugged as she poured it into a glass. “What I mean to say is he came in last night but had some running around to do.”

  Great. Drew. Just fan-fucking-tastic. Hill ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to throw up.

  Drew. The name alone was enough to make him want to turn around and leave before he was face-to-face with the one man who had turned his world completely upside down seven years before.

  Oh God. The parking lot. Had that been him?

  Christ, he didn’t think he had the strength for this. Not at this time of year.

  “What are you doing, Jen? Did you think you could get both of us here and it would be one big holiday lovefest? You know what I went through, and you still think we’re likely to patch it up? I don’t. He made his choice, and I was left to suffer the consequences. End of story.”

  Jen pressed a glass of wine into his hand. He took it but looked down at it with disdain.

  “I distinctly remember a mention of eggnog.”

  “So you’re staying?”

  “I feel blindsided and as if the old bait and switch has been played on me, but yeah, I’ll stay. I don’t have anything in the house for dinner, and your lasagna sure beats the hell out of starving.” Plus it would give him the opportunity to pretend he was on top of the world and rub Drew’s nose in it.

  Hill glanced down at his one wet shoe. Yeah, that’d convince Drew he had it together.

  “I’m taking off my shoes and drying them out.” He kicked them off, and the wet sock clung to his toes. He pulled those off too. “This looks ridiculous.”

  “I think Drew has some socks in his luggage. Want me to go look?”

  “No! I don’t want you to go plunder through my ex-lover’s luggage looking for socks for me to borrow. It’s bad enough I’m going to stick around and get my heart handed to me again. The least I can do is weather it in my own naked feet.”

  There was a bang on the back door. Hill’s heart rocketed up into his throat, thinking it was Drew. He turned around and found Kong trying to get the tree through the back door sideways.

  “Stupid dog. You’re trying to violate several laws of physics.” He made a shooing motion with his hand. “Back up.”

  Kong complied. Hill opened the door and wrested the tree from the dog’s jaws. It was slobbery and a bit worse for wear, but as Jen had observed, it was still fit for decorating. When he straightened, the man from the parking lot stood in front of him, staring at Hill again.

  His mind disconnected, and strains of Psycho sound effects, along with the word stalker, poured through his brain. That’s when he realized he was indeed looking at Drew.

  Drew slid his hands down in his pants pockets, looking all sexy and casual, not to mention in control. “Need some help?”

  “Nope. I think I got this.”

  Yeah, so why were his hands shaking?

  He finally got the tree in the door. “You have your stand ready to go, Jen?”

  “In the living room.” She led the way.

  Hill kept his teeth ground together to avoid saying something stupid to Drew. For instance, like how much he’d changed in seven years and why in the hell didn’t he say something at the mall instead of just sitting there staring like Hill was the grand marshal at the freak show parade?

  He found the stand and plunked the tree down into the hole, then set about tightening the screws.

  Drew shook the tree up and down in the stand a few times. “Is it flush to the bottom of the stand? It doesn’t look like it is.”

  Needles sprinkled Hill’s hair like green snow. “Really? Are you going to play that game?”

  “I’m just trying to help.”

  Hill continued to screw the holders in, this time with more violence. “I can manage a Christmas tree stand without interference.”

  Hill heard a sigh from above, then silence as Drew moved away.

  Whispers came from the kitchen.

  Drew was probably telling Jen what a dick Hill was being. The fact that both Drew and Jen thought Hill would want to play nice just because it was Christmas pissed him off to no end.

  He finished with the last screw and sat back, staring up at the mangled evergreen. Poor tree looked as bad as Hill felt. He rested his arm on his knee and covered his face with his hand. It was completely pointless and stupid to pretend all was merry and bright when everything had taken a left at miserable and dark.

  A big pink tongue and harsh breath bathed the side of his face.

  He turned to the fuzzy muzzle of one Kong-sized dog. “You’ve never known a bad day in your entire life, you lucky bastard.”

  Kong wagged his tail in agreement.

  Hill scratched Kong behind the ears, and the dog melted in sublime pleasure. Blue eyes rolled back and tongue hung out from the side of his mouth.

  The scene of unbridled ecstasy on Kong’s face made Hill laugh. “You’re pathetic, you know that, buddy?”

  Jen peeked at him around the forest of skinned branches. “Come on. Be nice. You’re one of his favorite people. You talk to him like he’s one of the guys, not a dog.”

  “That’s because he’s one of the few who listens without judging.”

  In response to the compliment, Kong turned his head and licked Hill’s hand.

  “I think deep inside this furry mongrel is a human soul waiting to get out. Except for the little problem of carrying full-sized trees around your backyard.”

  “Yes, well, we all have our faults.” Jen crossed her arms. “Speaking of which, are you going to hide back here all evening, or are you going to join the human conversation?”

  “Actually, I’m debating about whether or not this is a good idea. Right now I’m leaning heavily for the negative.”

  Jen gave a heavy sigh, and her shoulders lowered in defeat. “You two should talk. I’ll make myself scarce by searching for that damn box of decorations I can’t seem to find.”

  Hill scoffed. “You mean the one your grandma gave you and you haven’t seen since? I still say Marjorie has them.”

  Marjorie, Jen’s older sister, had blown a gasket when she found out that box of family hand-painted heirloom ornaments had been given to Jen. As far as Hill was concerned, Marjorie was the best suspect.

  “You’re deflecting the topic.” Jen gave him a stern pointer finger in the face. “I want you to go in there and make nice with Drew. He came all the way from Seattle to visit.”

  Hill shook his head. “To visit you. Not me. If he’d wanted to see me, he would’ve called. My number hasn’t changed.”

  “He didn’t think you’d talk to him.” She waved her hand as if to erase the words on the air. “Nope. I’m not going there. You’re both big enough boys to work it out or not. I might have set up this little meeting, but the rest you have to do yourself, so long as neither of you ruin my Christmas.”

  Hill took her hand and kissed her finger. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I know how important the holiday is to you.”

  “Good. Just so we understand each other.” Jen spun and started away. “I’m off to the basement to find decorations. Come, Kong.”

  The dog readily followed at his master’s summons.

  Hill stayed put and stewed. As far as he was c
oncerned, it was Drew that should make the first move, not him. Hill wasn’t the one who left right before Thanksgiving without a backward glance. So what, it might’ve been a career opportunity of a lifetime, but shit and fire, it would’ve been nice to have been asked to make that journey across the country together. Instead he’d been told that it would be better if he did it alone. That he wanted to start a new life in the Northwest and leave the old one behind.

  Hill rubbed his chest. God in heaven, just thinking about it brought the ache back full throttle. He’d been cut off at the knees. His heart ripped out and fed to him. It had taken a full year before he’d even entertained the idea of getting back into the dating scene. They were few and far between in those early days, and now it had trickled down to nil.

  And he called Kong pathetic?

  Drew walked past and sat on the sofa behind Hill. “Jen said you wouldn’t be coming out of there.”

  “It’s an interesting perspective.” Hill gave a nod to the tree. “I can see all the teeth marks from here.”

  There was a moment or two of silence. Then, “Look, Hill—”

  Hill held up his hand. “I can’t talk about this right now. Just seeing you again opened all the old wounds. I wish I could say it didn’t or lie and say it doesn’t matter after all this time, but it does. You know me well enough to know I’ve never been a very good liar.”

  “I know.”

  The sound of ripping paper and the dull clink of a beer bottle told Hill that Drew had given in to his nervous habit of pulling the label off.

  “You’ve always been one to hold a grudge.”

  Hill gave a shrug. “It’s a failing, but one I embrace. It saves me the embarrassment of being made a fool of twice by the same person. You understand?”

  “I’m moving back.”

  The unlikely words blew through Hill’s soul like a blizzard. They froze him straight down to his marrow.

  “Wow. Talk about a sucker punch.” Hill rolled to his feet and walked straight into the kitchen.

  The town was big enough they never had to run into each other. On the rare occasions they were in the same place, they could remain on opposite sides of a room. There wasn’t a mandate that said they had to speak or even acknowledge each other.