The Stockings Were Hung Read online

  Drew’s shoes made soft sounds over the tiled floor as he entered the kitchen. “Do you think it was easy for me to ask Jen to set this up? I didn’t want to run into you in a public place and have a huge scene.”

  “Well, we did and there wasn’t. I guess you can put that theory to rest.”

  Drew held up his hand. A platinum band glowed in the low light of the kitchen. Oh God. Drew was married. The knife couldn’t have been any sharper or cut more cleanly.

  “You surprised me. Of all the cars I could have parked next to, I had no idea I’d pulled into the space next to you.” Drew swallowed. His eyes went soft. “And looking so damn good. That self-deprecating smile I always loved so much planted on your face when you stepped in that damn puddle. It’s all I could do to keep from getting out of my car and knocking on your window.”

  “Where’s my shoes and socks?” Hill said under his breath. He wasn’t going to stay in Jen’s house a moment longer and endure this torture. Why should he? Drew was the one who left, not Hill.

  Hill brushed past Drew and got his arm grabbed for the effort.

  “Don’t leave.”

  “Huh, ironic isn’t it? That’s exactly what I said to you seven years ago, and you didn’t bother to stay. Why should I?”

  “Because I’ve never gotten over you.”

  Hill gazed down at the ring on Drew’s finger. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  Hill pulled his arm away and stalked off into Jen’s laundry room. From a distance, the oven timer dinged. Thumps from below him in the basement indicated Jen was still digging through her storage. He wasn’t about to rescue her lasagna from a burned future. Not when all those normal little sounds in the house only screamed at him how thoroughly he’d been set up.

  And Jen? God in heaven, he’d hate to think he couldn’t trust her anymore. That would really devastate him. He’d rather give her the benefit of the doubt and believe she thought she was doing something to help him. That still didn’t explain the ring on Drew’s finger.

  He found his socks in the dryer. His shoes were pressed to the heater grate and were only slightly less damp than they were when he’d pulled them off. From the kitchen the sound of the oven door opening and a pan being placed on the stove to cool gave him the shattered illusion of domesticity. Even that road lay in ruin. Oftentimes he and Drew had stood shoulder to shoulder in their apartment kitchen, cooking while the stereo played in the background. Christ, it hurt, and he didn’t even know if he cared if it did at this point.

  The pain had gone beyond acute years ago and moved into the realm of chronic. He doubted Drew had suffered at all. No, he’d moved to a new city, fresh views, exciting discoveries, and a dream job. And a new man.

  Hill grabbed his socks out of the dryer and put them on all warm and toasty.

  Drew stood in the doorway, his arms stretched between the jambs. “You could’ve borrowed some of my socks.”

  “Look. I don’t want anything from you. Only to be left alone. You did it once. I’m sure you can do it again.” Hill patted him on the shoulder. “You did good with seven years and no contact. Let’s see how you do with twenty or even fifty.”

  “You stubborn, stupid jackass.” Drew stepped out of the way and let Hill pass.

  Hill turned and looked over his shoulder, offended at the name-calling. “Me? I’m sorry. I thought I had a reason to be pissed off at you. If I’m wrong, I do beg your humble apology.”

  “Always the smartass.” Drew dogged him through the kitchen and to the breakfast nook. “I just want a chance to make it up to you.”

  Hill stuffed his foot violently into his shoe. “I don’t think you can. You can’t rip someone’s heart out and hand it back to them and expect to be forgiven in an hour, a day, or even a month. More than that, I don’t want to forgive you. I want to hold on to the pain until it hardens like a stone.”

  “Looks like it already has.”

  Jen came up from the basement empty-handed but with an expectant look on her face. “So you two are talking?”

  “No. I’m leaving.” Hill stood and went to the door. “You can keep the booze. Merry Christmas.”

  “Wait.” Drew scrambled after him.

  Before Hill could make a protest, Drew had him in a tight embrace, kissing him for all he was worth. And what a kiss it was. Hard and firm and delicious, just the way Hill remembered.

  When Drew finally let go, his eyes glittered like jewels filled with desire. He pointed up. “Mistletoe.”

  “Damn you.”

  Christmas is Here….

  THE DOOR slammed behind Hill’s retreating form.

  Jen stepped fully into the room, her face a prime example of worry personified. “How was he when you told him?”

  Drew sat at the table and cupped his head in his hands. “As dramatic as ever.”

  “I warned you it wouldn’t be easy.”

  Jen pulled out a chair and sat across from him. She looked a mess. Her love life was in the toilet as well. By rights he shouldn’t have asked for her help, but he’d had no one else to turn to who loved and cared for them both as much as Jen.

  “Think he’ll come over for Christmas dinner?”

  Jen raised a brow. “He better. I’m not cooking an entire feast for two.”

  “I just took him by surprise. That’s all. I should’ve contacted him and let him know I was coming back to town. Warned him.” He rubbed a hand over his heart. Not a day went by in the past seven years he hadn’t thought of or missed Hill. He was the other half of Drew—had been since the first day they’d met. But Hill had also been the stronger of the two.

  For whatever else he was, Hill was always the leader and Drew the follower. It had scared him enough, losing his identity to an amalgamation of them versus his individuality, that he had no choice but to try and make it on his own. Be his own man for once in his life.

  It had been lonely as hell at times but infinitely rewarding.

  In the long run, he’d been glad to have taken his parents’ advice, even if they cost him the only man he’d ever love.

  Jen stood again and went to the cabinet. “I think it’s time for some spiked cocoa.”

  “I should’ve kept in touch, but it was too painful.” Drew had kicked himself long and hard over that fact since the day he’d left, but he’d also known what would happen if he had. His resolve would’ve crumbled, and he’d have caved and asked Hill to move out there.

  Jen poured milk and cocoa into a pan. “You should’ve told him why you left instead of using a ‘greener pastures’ exit.”

  Drew scoffed at the suggestion. “Really? And you think that would’ve made it any easier for him? I can just imagine that scenario. He’d have thrown my clothes into the driveway, then run over them a few times with the car—with me in them.”

  “Now who’s being dramatic?” The wooden spoon clunked dully against the side of the pan as Jen stirred the cocoa.

  “How do you tell the person you love that they’re smothering you? That you need time and distance to figure out who you are? There was no way in hell I was having that conversation with Hill.”

  A crash came from the living room. Drew jumped up and followed Jen to see what had happened. The tree was down. Kong had the branches between his teeth, stripping both bark and needles.

  “Jesus, what’s wrong with you, dog? Have you got a pine sap deficiency or something?” Jen reached over and tried to pull the tree from Kong, only to get a playful growl and tail wag. “We are so not playing this in the house.”

  “I think you should resort to an artificial tree.”

  “No! No artificial trees in this house. Kong will learn to live in harmony with a real Christmas tree, or there will be no Christmas for him.”

  Kong raised his head. Pine needles dangled from between his teeth. He cocked his large head to the side.

  “That’s right, mister. No doggie treats. No plushy toys. No Nylabones.”

  Kong hung his head as if understanding every word.
He slunk away from the upended tree, tail between his legs, back into the bedroom.

  Drew watched the dog disappear around the corner. “I think you’ve hurt his feelings.”

  “He’ll get over it once he’s had a good pout.”

  “Think that’ll work with Hill?”

  Jen grabbed the tree by the top and stood it back upright. “I doubt it. You’ve already taken away what he loved most. Maybe you should think about giving him something back.”

  “Yeah, I tried that a few minutes ago. It didn’t work.” He could still taste Hill on his lips.

  “I mean give him a Christmas to remember.” She set a hand on her hip. “What was the one thing he used to always say he wanted for Christmas? The perfect gift?”

  Drew shook his head. It had been so long since he’d even thought of those old dreams and late night conversations about Christmas wishes, he wasn’t sure he remembered correctly. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes. You do.” Jen knocked on his forehead a few times. “Somewhere in that brain of yours is the answer.”

  As if a knock to the cranium made all the pieces of a really tricky puzzle fall into place, he had his answer. It had been there all along. No wonder Hill hated Christmas so much. He’d never had the special one he’d always wanted.

  And it was all Drew’s fault.

  He’d been planning it—meant to do it. He’d just never gotten around to it before he left for Seattle.

  He turned and left the room.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To see if my parents booked the cabin for the holiday.”

  “You’ll miss my Christmas dinner.”

  “We’ll be back in time. I promise.” Provided Hill agreed to go with him in the first place. The entire plan was contingent on a rather reluctant ex-boyfriend’s state of mind.

  He went to the guest room and sat on the bed. The mattress was comfy and set high up off the floor. Rather romantic and cozy. A brief flash of seeing Hill wearing nothing but the down comforter draped strategically over his privates made Drew moan. Yeah, like that was likely to happen with the mood Hill was in.

  Drew thumbed his phone through the contact list. His mother’s number was under M. Her phone rang and went to voice mail. Oh, that wasn’t going to do.

  “Hey, Mom. It’s Drew. I need to know if the cabin is available for the next week or so. Give me a call back if it is. If not, are there any other rental properties you have open that are away from civilization and secluded?” He hit the End button. She was probably going to think he wanted to hide a body up there. He rolled his eyes in preparation for the list of questions he was going to have to answer before he ever got the keys out of her cold, miserly hands.

  She’d make him pay for the rental, but that was all right. He didn’t mind. If he could get Hill up there, it would be worth every penny.

  Drew licked his lips, still tasting Hill. For a man who professed to be angry at him, Hill had sure given himself over to the kiss—even if Drew had stolen it under the mistletoe.

  Their first Christmas together as a couple was one to remember. Christ, they’d stayed up late decorating the Christmas tree, trimming the house, hanging lights, making eggnog, popcorn, and stringing cranberries. It had been fun and very sweet. They’d ended up making love on the floor under the tree, then wrapped up in a blanket and slept there, cuddled in each other’s arms until morning.

  What if he recreated that one? Up until that point, Hill had always loved the idea of an old-fashioned Christmas. He hadn’t been one for lots of presents or expensive ornaments. Hill had loved handmade decorations and one special present that meant something to the receiver. And the gift was always perfect.

  Drew had missed those when he’d moved away.

  Bitterness tasted horrible on his tongue. That first year out in Seattle, he’d been unpacking in his new apartment when he found the present Hill had sneaked into one of his boxes. Drew had stuck it under his tiny tabletop plastic Christmas tree and kept it wrapped until Christmas day. Tears had streamed down his face when he opened the box and found an antique pocket watch inside. Laws Do Not Rule the Heart. The inscription was shocking for the time, since it was clearly passed between lovers, ones who had had to love in secret, products of a bygone era. The card inside had read: Because we don’t have to live in a time where our love is shameful.

  It was the last present Hill had given Drew. The last anything. Drew had always wondered where Hill found such a remarkable and touching present but had never called to ask. It was too painful.

  He lay back on the bed. A pain of his own making.

  But if given the chance, he’d do it again. He’d grown and learned so much three thousand miles away and on his own. There were experiences he’d had in Seattle he’d not change for the world. His only regret was that he’d spent so much time denying his feelings for Hill, when in reality he’d wanted him there with him every step of the way.

  “Are you going to come out here and eat?”

  Drew rubbed his eyes. “Yeah. I’ll be out in a minute. Just let me finish wallowing in self-pity.”

  Jen came and stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. Her head was cocked to the side. “What is it with you two? One is a chronic curmudgeon and the other is a self-dramatizing diva. You two are the perfect couple even if you are too stupid to see it yourselves half the time.”

  Drew leaned up on his elbows. “Thanks for making me feel better about myself. I appreciate it.”

  “You did what you felt you had to do at the time. Don’t beat yourself up for it now. Hill will come around eventually—I think.”

  He studied Jen. Her brow was furrowed in thought. “You don’t sound too sure.”

  “It’s not like him to hold grudges, at least with other people. You were different. I sat with him a hell of a lot of nights after you left and watched him sob himself into vomiting. It was really bad.” She made a face of regret. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. He’s not going to be happy with me for it.”

  Drew lay back down and closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands. “I won’t tell him.”

  But it was bad enough he knew. All those nights he’d spent in his first weeks out west, missing Hill and wanting him near, and Hill had been back here tossing his cookies with grief. God, it made him feel like an absolute monster-sized prick. How was he supposed to eat Jen’s homemade lasagna when he felt damn near to puking himself?

  “Look, I didn’t tell you that to make you feel worse. I just wanted you to know that you’ve got your work cut out for you. This isn’t going to be easy or quick. It’s going to be a very tough sell, no matter what I might’ve alluded to last night.”

  Drew gave a snort. Last night she’d made it sound like Hill would throw his arms around Drew and all would be forgiven. Or maybe that was just the way Drew had heard it. Damn, he’d wanted it to be that easy.

  Call it recompense for leaving during the time of year when he should’ve been holding his loved one close.

  “So was the cabin free?”

  “My mom didn’t answer. I left a message.”

  “Can you think of a contingency plan if that one doesn’t work?”

  “I asked about other rentals that are out in the woods, but those might have tenants. I think the others are year-round leases.” Drew slid off the bed, picking up his phone where he’d abandoned it on the comforter.

  They went into the kitchen. Jen had set the table and placed the lasagna and salad in the center along with assorted dressings.

  “Sit wherever you want.” Jen pulled a chair out facing the back door. Kong came into the kitchen, lured by the smell of people food, and took up residence under the table. She lifted her foot and rubbed his fuzzy head. “He holds out hope that one day I’ll give him scraps.”

  Drew looked at the dog. His furry face was forlorn yet hopeful. “Don’t use those eyes on me. If your momma says you can’t have people food, I’m not going to give it to you.”

>   They dished up their dinner. Drew’s gaze kept straying to the empty chair next to him. If he’d only kept his mouth shut and not pushed, Hill might’ve been sitting here enjoying what smelled like a really good meal.

  “Quit pouting. You’ll make the wine go bad.”

  Drew laughed. “What?”

  “Granny Grace used to say that. If you frowned at the dinner table, the wine would turn to vinegar.”

  Granny Grace was their great-grandmother who was from the old country. Her life was filled with a treasure trove of sayings that made no logical sense. She was a hoot, and as far as Drew knew, still had all her original parts at ninety-two.

  “I never heard her say that once.”

  “Because you were always a kiss-ass. I remember you sitting at the table all prim and proper and eating everything on your plate. It was disgusting, the suck-up-ing-ness of it all.”

  Drew wasn’t offended. She might be his cousin, but she was always his best friend. “Hell, I was feeding Peanut under the table.”

  “What? No wonder he was a thirty-five-pound dachshund. Granny Grace thought he had a thyroid problem.”

  Drew’s phone exploded with a Joni Mitchell tune. His mother’s ringtone.

  “I thought you were staying with Jen?”

  As far as greetings went, it was pure shit.

  “I am.”

  “Then why do you need the cabin?”

  As if she didn’t know.

  “Because I want to take Hill up there and give him a quiet, low-key Christmas.” Drew stood and walked into the living room, not wanting to have Jen watch him as he tried to persuade his mother to let him have the cabin. “I have a lot to make up for.”

  His mother was quiet for a moment. “Drew, you have nothing to feel sorry for or to make up to Hill. He’s a grown man and should’ve put you behind him a long time ago.”

  “That’s just it. He hasn’t, and it’s my fault.”

  “No. It’s his own for not moving on. You can’t be responsible for anything he’s done or not done in the last seven years.”