ChristmasInHisHeart (11 page)

***

“Oh my god, what are you doing?”

Xander chuckled at the outrage in Dermot’s voice. “You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he remarked, looking over his shoulder and losing his focus as he stared at the gorgeous man entering his kitchen in nothing but a skimpy pair of boxers. “Do you purposely buy those things a size too small for my benefit?”

“Watch it!”

Dermot raced over to him and grabbed his wrist. As if knocking a few screws back in place, suddenly a heat enveloped Xander’s hand and he looked over to the pot of boiling water, realizing that while he ogled the gorgeous man, his mind shorted out and almost gave his hand a plunge into a guaranteed third degree bath.

“Oh. Well, that would’ve hurt.”

Dermot took the cracked egg from him before pushing him away from the stove. “You think so? You could’ve seriously burned yourself. That”—he pointed to the steaming, bubbling water—“is not a simmer. That looks like it just came out of a volcanic vent.” He looked at the egg in his hand, turning it so the hairline crack faced the ceiling and stopped oozing. His face scrunched up like the little oval edible egg was an alien object. “What exactly were you going to do with this?”

Xander gave one of his award-winning smiles, the one that normally got Dermot to drop his drawers and ask questions later.

“Don’t you look at me that way. You wipe that smirk right off your face and answer my question.”

Okay, so Xander’s attempt at derailing the conversation busted. He knew it would. Dermot lived and breathed work when he stepped into a kitchen—whether it was at
Alimentaire
, his apartment over the restaurant, or even here in Shawna’s condo. He was a sight to behold while in his element, lick-him-up sexy in his boxers and completely in charge. Down side—chances of any of Xander’s naughty kitchen fantasies ever coming to life dwindled to nil, but the trade-off was well worth it.

So all Xander could do was shrug good naturedly and answer the question. “I was making poached eggs for you for breakfast. You were still supposed to be asleep and this was supposed to be a surprise.”

A shocked gasp accompanied the horrified look Dermot gave him, then the egg, the now rapidly boiling water, and finally back to Xander again.

“Surprise.” Xander waved his hands with an open-mouthed grin.

“No…just no, never.”

“But it’s okay, really. I added lots of vinegar to the water to make sure the egg whites stayed together around the yolk—just like it says to do on the internet…and I already have the wheat bread ready to toast to put them on.” Xander had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, the incredulous and possibly painful looks flitting over Dermot’s face were well worth almost singeing his hand. “I even have ketchup for us to cover them in.”

“Enough! I’ve heard enough. You want poached eggs?”

Xander nodded enthusiastically.

“Fine.”

“Oh no, Dermot, I couldn’t possibly ask you to make me poached eggs with bacon when you’re a guest at my house. Slotted spoons are in the drawer by the dishwasher and we have some golden fingerling potatoes in the basket over there. But really, don’t go to any trouble.” Xander didn’t move a muscle to stop his boyfriend from rearranging the clutter on the counter.

“Bring me the eggs…and they better be fresh.” Dermot turned the cooktop down and dumped the water from the small saucepan, then rummaged in the bottom cabinet, probably for a different pot.

For the first time that morning, Xander’s smile faltered. How the hell would he know if the eggs were fresh? It wasn’t like Shawna owned chickens.

Shrugging, he pulled the carton of eggs from the fridge and set it close enough to Dermot that he would notice but not too close to where he could possibly be accosted by the man’s frantic movements. He preferred to lean against the opposite counter and watch Dermot’s ass bounce up and down as he rifled through that overstuffed cabinet for whatever it was he wanted, anyway.

This was the first time Dermot stayed at Xander’s place instead of the other way around, and Xander knew the reason. Shawna. The two didn’t actually hate each other; they just seemed to annoy each other. They both were emphatic that it wasn’t anything more than two personalities that weren’t meant to be buddy buddy. Xander breathed a major sigh of relief when he heard that, annoyance he could work with. But if his boyfriend and best friend hated each other…well, that was a bad plot to a story with no happily ever after.

Of course, the only reason he even ventured to have Dermot come over last night was because Shawna was out of town for two days visiting her parents. With the retail holiday season in full bloom, and her business up over forty-seven percent from last year, she knew she wouldn’t get a chance to make the trek to her hometown at Christmas. So her family decided to have a short early celebration with her now.

Was it wrong that Xander jumped at the opportunity to have Dermot over and in his bed for a change? Honestly, he didn’t care if it was, he felt perfectly right at the moment and that worked for him.

“Xander?”

Dermot’s voice stopped his mind from wondering how long it might take him to rid Dermot of those boxers. “Yes?”

“You don’t really put ketchup on eggs, do you?”

When Xander burst out laughing, it was nice to hear Dermot join in.

Chapter Eleven

“Whose idea was it to have the celebration in this old dilapidated place?” Dermot slowed his walk to a leisurely stroll while he looked at the abandoned building. “Is this even legal?”

Xander rolled his eyes. Leave it to this man to question the legalities of a bunch of happy as hell business owners getting together to party.

“I’m pretty sure the cops aren’t going to bust us for having a get-together in the middle of the day to say good-bye to these eyesores. And why not have the party here? It’s the perfect location, the start of something new and terrific for all the business owners.” He blew Dermot a kiss. “Thanks mainly to you.”

All the business owners had been meeting with the town council on a monthly basis—for years, Shawna had explained to him—trying to persuade the council that these old buildings had to go. Dermot was the loudest and most active voice behind the unofficially dubbed “Park & Park” movement. Xander still wasn’t sure what the hold-out was, it seemed clear to him that the line of buildings behind the shopping district weren’t enriching the community any with their graffiti and nefarious dealings that went on after dark. No one had any desire to fix them up, either, apparently, so why not turn them into something beneficial to the community?

But finally the fight was over, the council agreed to rework the 2015 budget and level the buildings, putting up some much needed extra parking spaces and a simple park with (to begin with) minimal activities for the kids—hence the unofficial name “Park & Park.” The local Chamber of Commerce had agreed to contribute a large gazebo, and other local community organizations had stepped up as well, volunteering funding for picnic tables, playground equipment, and barbeque grills.

The project wouldn’t start until the first of the year, but a few of the proprietors wanted to celebrate now. Xander was all for partying like it was nineteen ninety-nine, especially since he saw firsthand the stress his boyfriend and best friend went through to make this happen. The idea that Dermot could finally relax a little and concentrate on creating new and terrific lunch specials was exciting—but Xander knew his boyfriend better than that. Dermot wouldn’t relax until the project was finished.

Thank god Xander wasn’t the jealous type…and that he knew how to demand attention when he wanted it.

Suddenly he realized he was walking alone. Xander comically looked to his side and wondered where the drop dead sexy man who kept step with him went. A soft meow echoed behind him, and without having to turn around, Xander had no doubt where his lover was and what he was up to.

“Why don’t you just adopt the cat and end this two-step the both of you are doing? We can be her daddies. Wait, that sounds so wrong.” Xander chuckled as he turned around and saw Dermot sneak some of the seared tuna from the huge platter of appetizers he amazingly balanced on one hand. “Hey, you spanked my ass when I tried to sneak a taste of the munchies you made.”

Dermot humphed at the suggestion. “Slinky is a free spirit, she’d slowly die if forced to live inside, and those so-called munchies you are referring to are five-star hors d'oeuvres made from premium cuts of tuna. You had your sample, went for seconds, and then proceeded to beg me to punish you for being a naughty boy. Don’t try to confuse the issues.”

The serious man tried to sound stern, but Xander saw the corner of his mouth twitching as if he fought smiling.

Moving the platter he held with both his hands to the side, Xander leaned over and pecked Dermot on the cheek. “And you loved doling out my punishment, so we’re both equally guilty and damn lucky I’d say.” Another slightly more lingering kiss closer to Dermot’s mouth, and Xander straightened, head nodding to where the music was coming from. “So, are you ready to party?”

Dermot exaggerated his shrug. “If I must.”

“Yes, you must. If it wasn’t for your hard work, there’d be nothing to celebrate.”

They both made their way up the overgrown and breaking cement walk and into the building. They were accosted by music, loud talking, and flashing Christmas lights.

Slinky hissed from between their legs then darted toward the doorway to their right, a quick look through the open door showed a long darkish hall—since there were no windows or lights in that area. “Shit. She could get hurt down there.” He looked around and noticed one of the college kids that worked part-time for Shawna. “Hey, Sprocket, come get these apps up for me? I've got to go hunt down a cat.”

The guy's eyes widened before he snorted through his nose. He glanced at Dermot then back to Xander. “Sure…um, do you think Chaz will show up?”

“Nah, he’s keeping an eye on the restaurant.” He handed the huge platter to Sprocket and glanced down the corridor again, not seeing the cat anymore.

“Slippery little Slinky,” he muttered under his breath. “Do you think she’ll be al—”

Xander turned to Dermot and lost his train of thought. His boyfriend’s huge eyes stared at something that he obviously didn’t appreciate, his hands white from clenching the glass platter so tightly, little beads of sweat popped out over his upper lip and his entire body trembled ever so slightly.

What the fuck?

Xander took the two steps to his side, grabbed the precariously balanced tray and glanced out, trying to understand what Dermot saw that demanded such a show of emotions. Nothing, nothing warranted the reaction—only a table to lay the heavier coats down since there was no electricity in the old building and people kept their lighter layers on. Looking through the double wide archway into the main room, Xander could see at least a dozen people mingling and laughing, a few dancing to some music and the Christmas lights hung around the room flashing in intervals.

Oh shit, now Xander kind of understood. “Sprocket,” he called out.

“Here.” Sprocket suddenly appeared at his side, took the food and disappeared back through the archway. The college kid was a whirlwind of activity not only here, but with everything he did. Xander learned early on that Sprocket couldn’t have register duty for an elongated period of time, the guy just couldn’t stand still in one place like that.

Xander pivoted in front of Dermot so they looked at each other, worried about what his boyfriend might think at the moment. No matter how comfortable Xander already felt in their relationship—as if they’d been together for years instead of officially just over two weeks—he knew he had to tread carefully when it came to Dermot’s animosity about Christmas.

Did Xander hope to change his boyfriend’s opinion about the holiday? Sure, hope and Xander were old bedfellows. Was it a deal breaker if he couldn’t? Hell no. In no way, shape, or form would he allow what amounted to one day dictate his life or relationship.

“Honey, I swear I didn’t trick you into going to a Christmas party, I promise,” he tried to joke.

Unfortunately Dermot’s attention remained focused on one thing only. “How…how did they even get those things in here?” He glared around Xander’s shoulder.

“Well, you know, they put Shawna in charge of what little decorations there are. It’s that whole craft thing stigma, and this is what they got. She had an old portable generator she hauled out of storage to plug them into. Quite frankly, it shocked the shit out of me the thing still worked. She snagged it from her uncle back when we roomed together during college. There was this storm that took out the electricity to our dorm, and let me tell you, that little box made dozens of students very, very happy. Back then it was considered antique which makes it, what, ancient now?”

“This isn’t safe. It’s wrong.”

Xander didn’t want Dermot to leave, he deserved this celebration just as much as—if not more than—everyone else here. “I was just joking. It’s okay, honest. Trust me, this isn’t a Christmas party. Shawna simply loves those damn Christmas lights. Hell, she’s in love with all lights on a string. She has alternating bunnies and eggs for Easter, mummies and witches for Halloween, and chili peppers that she puts up for Cinco de Mayo. Still don’t understand that one.” He forced out a chuckle. “But look, no tree or presents, not even those novelty napkins with jingle bells or holly on them. No mistletoe hanging in the middle of the walkway, either, which is a good thing because I’d be tempted to tie you under it and have my kissing way with you.”

Dermot didn’t seem amused or sold on the idea.

“Seriously, this is simply a bye bye bye party.”

Xander propped one hand on his now gyrating hips while working the fingers of his other one to the nineties boy band group ’N Sync’s
Bye Bye Bye
dance, hoping to at least get a partial grin from his lover. Damn the things he’d do for a smile from his chef.

Dermot stopped staring at the offending lights and raised an eyebrow to Xander. “What are you doing?”