Winter Wonderland (5 page)

Three-quarters of the seats were taken by women wearing red hats. One of them was Corrina Anderson, who saw Kyle and waved.

Oh. No.

Paul gestured helplessly at the crush. “The Red Hat Society is having a dinner meeting here, and there’s a forty-minute waitlist. On a
Tuesday.
They’ve never
had
a waitlist before. Ever.”

Kyle’s guilt at his unwitting part in this was drowned out by his legitimate hunger. “I can’t possibly wait forty minutes to eat. I don’t mean to be a princess, but I’m not kidding. I had to swipe a meal bar on the fly for lunch, and that was at eleven. I’m starving.”

“We could order to go, but at this rate, God only knows when it’d be ready.”

Goddamn you, Corrina.
“You know what, there’s no rush. We can try again another day. Maybe meet in the library or something.” And this time, he wouldn’t tell his
helper
when his meeting time was.

Paul rubbed the back of his head in a self-conscious gesture. “I hate having you go hungry. We could have them fire up a pizza at the muni.”

The municipal liquor store had a small bar at the back and for a ridiculous fee would heat up a frozen pizza in a seldom-cleaned toaster oven under the counter. Kyle stifled a grimace. “I’ll find something at home.”

After frowning in the general direction of the kitchen, Paul held up a hand. “Give me five minutes.”

Kyle wanted to point out in
fifteen
minutes he could be home stuffing cereal into his mouth, but he nodded instead and crowded into the coat rack, miserable in his now-ravenous hunger while surrounded by other people’s food. He waited for Corrina to come over and explain herself, because he longed to rip into her over her ridiculous plans. She didn’t so much as glance at him a second time, however, too busy eating her hot beef sandwich over Texas toast. Which was what
he
would have ordered. He always ordered it. He’d be less than ten minutes away from eating it now, if Corrina hadn’t done this. And
why
the hell she’d done this he’d never—

“Here.”

Kyle blinked as Paul reappeared and thrust a stack of Styrofoam takeout boxes at him. The smell of grease and meat and potatoes and bread hit him in the gut. “What—how?”

“Went into the kitchen and pulled a favor. Two people will wait five minutes longer for their orders, but they got to sit down, so it’s all good.”

Paul’s possessive, self-satisfied look made Kyle melty. “Where will we eat, though?”

It was then he realized Corrina’s plan. Somehow she’d known this was how it would go down. Somehow she knew wiping out the café would leave them eating at the bar on the highway, the muni, the shop or Paul’s house.
Oh, Corrina. You’re a master class.

Except Kyle could tell Paul was nervous about bringing him home, and frankly Kyle wasn’t sure he was ready to stand on the steps where he’d been so soundly rejected. Ignoring the voice in his head warning him Corrina would cluck her tongue, Kyle gave Paul a bone. “Would it be okay to go to your shop? I assume you have the plans there anyway.”

The relief came off Paul in waves. “Yeah. That’s a great idea. I mean, I don’t have any plans yet. I barely understand what’s going on with this Wonderland thing. Though it’s not very comfortable seating at the shop.”

Kyle shifted the boxes so he could hold up one hand. “Seriously not needing fancy right now. I could happily eat this with no silverware under the streetlight.”

“I can do you better than that for sure.” Paul grinned, and it made Kyle’s heart flip over. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride, and you can pick up your car after.”

See, Corrina? I can be even smarter than you.
Kyle beamed. “Thanks. Sounds great.”

Chapter Four

Kyl
e was actually a really decent guy.

Paul had known this for years. Before Marcus’s mother had passed away, Kyle was one of the kindest nurses at the care center, helping Mimi cling to whatever dignity she could manage before Alzheimer’s took it all. Everybody knew he was great with his twin sister. He was friendly too. And yes. He was cute. Paul had eyes, and he’d taken note, as one did.

But this was the second time in a row Paul had witnessed Kyle being…well, not steeped in camp, to put it bluntly. Frankie always made self-deprecating comments about his swishiness, which Marcus usually got defensive about, but Kyle was something different. He often, especially at the care center, did the singsong goodbye thing in a way that said
Here I am doing the singsong goodbye
. He never went out without looking like some kind of gay fashion plate, which was damn weird in a micro-town in the North Woods. Even his scrubs somehow managed to be gay as hell, and not because they were covered in rainbows. Somehow everything about Kyle was twinkling, fabulous gay.

To be blunt, Paul had long suspected Kyle of doing it on purpose. And though he tried not to be bothered by it, it
did
bother him.

Tonight all that stuff, while still present, was toned
way
down. In the shop, Kyle peeled away his bright blue puffy parka with matching knit hat, scarf and mittens, revealing a close-fitting gray sweater and equally snug jeans. If Paul wanted to imagine what Kyle’s ass was shaped like, he didn’t have to anymore. But the usual affected gestures were absent. No trills, no flirty-yet-sexless hip-wiggles. When he flipped open his to-go container, yes, he did it with a graceful, delicate air. When he ate, even though he was almost clumsy in his eagerness to get food in his mouth, there was no denying the femininity of his movements. These gestures, however, all seemed natural. They
fit
the man in front of Paul.

For the first time in basically ever, Paul looked at Kyle and admitted this was indeed a
man
in front of him. Not a kid playing around, flirting with Paul and making him feel weird. Gabriel had pointed out over and over that Kyle wasn’t as young as Arthur and Paul insisted he was—and Paul could finally see it.

Kyle, catching Paul staring, blushed and reached for a napkin with the same smooth grace. “Sorry, do I have potato on my lip? I shouldn’t have eaten so fast.”

He didn’t, but Paul couldn’t admit why he
had
been staring. “Just a little, but you got it.” He felt bad for lying, so he touched his beard and mustache ruefully. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll catch more than you before I’m finished.”

Kyle eyed Paul’s beard wistfully. “I keep trying to grow a beard, but it looks terrible. After a week I’m still nothing but messy fuzz.”

Paul was about to say a beard wouldn’t suit Kyle, but then his imagination kicked in, and…Christ, with his dyed hair, Kyle would look a hell of a lot like Arthur before he’d filled out.

Clearing his throat, Paul became focused on his hamburger.

Kyle wiped his mouth again, leaving a grimace. “Do you have disposable cups anywhere? I didn’t think to grab a drink at the café.”

Paul rose, embarrassed at his rudeness. “Sorry. We have pop and beer in the mini-fridge. What’s your pleasure?”

“It’s no trouble. I can get water from the bathroom faucet.”

Paul was pretty sure if Kyle got a look at the shop’s bathroom, he wouldn’t want to drink water from it. “We don’t have any clean cups. I can run across the street to the convenience store and get something bottled.”

“I don’t want to bother you. Pop or beer will be fine.”

They toured the fridge, where the choices were Mountain Dew, Red Bull and Fat Tire. Kyle’s gaze flitted between them, and he bit his bottom lip absently as he tried not to frown.

Paul closed the fridge and reached for his coat. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, I’ll go.” Kyle bustled to his own coat and hurried into it. “I’m so sorry. I get erratic heartbeats when I drink too much caffeine, and I don’t care for beer.”

“I’ll come with you.” Paul zipped up his coat. “It’s my fault for having such poor choices.”

“Well, it’s not like you knew you’d have company.” He tugged his hat over his ears.

It was the same stocking cap Kyle had been wearing the night Paul had caught him making the snow penis. To cover the fact he was studying Kyle too closely again, he said, “Nice hat.”

“Thanks.” Kyle’s cheeks stained. “I made it.”

Paul’s eyebrows lifted, and he paused in putting on his gloves. “Seriously?”

“There’s a lot of down time on the night shift. I’ve gotten pretty quick with my needles, and now I go a little crazy making winter gear.” He pulled back one of the earflaps. “I knit the outside and sew in a fleece lining.
So
warm.”

Paul could imagine. “That would be handy while hunting.”

“It is. I’ve knit hats and fleece collars for my dad and my brothers. They were all eye-roll about it until they tried them out. Now when theirs start to get worn, they expect me to make new ones.”

“That’s nice of you. I tried to get the guys to knit one winter. The other two couldn’t even cast on, and I ended up with a sagging oblong rectangle with holes all over.”

“Oh, it’s not hard, once you get the hang of it. If you want, I’ll teach you sometime.”

They walked across the street together to the small convenience store. The older woman working gave them a quiet “Hello
”
as they came in. Kyle got a Sprite, and Paul picked up a two-pack of chocolate cupcakes. As they walked back, though, it occurred to Paul they had caffeine. “These okay?”

“Oh, yes. It’s only coffee and soda and energy drinks. I drink decaf coffee when I wake up, and I eat chocolate all day long.” He looked abashed. “Sorry. This is the only place I’m high maintenance. Well, that and beer. I drink hard cider, though.”

“Everybody’s got something. Frankie feels sick if he eats red meat. Gabriel can’t stand black coffee. Arthur gags on coconut.”

“What about you?”

“Peanut butter and chocolate. Love both alone, can’t stand them together.”

Kyle’s smile looked good on him. “Noted. No Reese’s for Paul.”

They finished their food, and as Paul unwrapped the cupcakes, Kyle glanced around. “Have you started building the frames yet?”

“Frames?”

“For the Winter Wonderland booths.” Kyle gestured in the air. “Little hutches, Corrina said. Six of them. Places for vendors on the square. That’s what I’m supposed to stencil.”

Paul grimaced as he passed over a cupcake. “I haven’t heard much detail about any of this, to be honest.”

“According to Gabriel, this is how these things go. The library board gets wild ideas, usually late in the game, and everyone scrambles to fill in their gaps.” Kyle took a bite of cupcake, then daintily wiped his mouth as he finished chewing. “He said we should feel free to do whatever we think seems feasible, and if it doesn’t match their beatific vision, he’ll steer them around to reality.”

“How big are these hutches supposed to be?”

Kyle sipped his Sprite, looking thoughtful. “Well…they have to all fit on the square, to start. And speaking personally, I think they should be able to have space heaters inside. Honestly, it would be better if they were closed off. Even a few hours is a long time to stand in the cold.”

“That’s a lot of building in a little time. And a waste if this ends up snowed out and nobody can come.”

Kyle rubbed his chin. “I don’t know why they’re not having it in the old school gym again.”

Paul could guess. “Corrina wants it to be bigger, better. The elementary gym barely fit the event last year. She wants to branch out.”

“I’d say let’s table this until I get more information, but I’m afraid if I go to Corrina for clarifications, she’ll make it bigger in her attempts to explain what she wants.”

Paul had to agree. “You know, last year it seemed like Marcus and Frankie did a lot of the organizing. It was Marcus’s friends Ed and Laurie who gave lessons. And Frankie knew the stylists. A lot of Gabriel’s friends came up too. Maybe all six of us should have chili and conversation at Arthur’s or something. I could see if they’re around this weekend.”

Kyle winced. “Sorry, I work evenings, and Saturday is kind of Linda Kay’s day for what I’m awake of it. But I could come by Sunday before I go in to work at seven.”

“Sure. I’ll talk to the guys and get back to you.”

With the cupcakes finished and the reason they’d gotten together in the first place punted to Sunday, Paul should offer to drive Kyle to his car and let him go home. Instead, he stared at Kyle again, and once more, he was caught.

Kyle touched the side of his hair self-consciously. “Why do you keep looking at me that way? You make me feel like I’ve grown a unicorn horn.”

Paul fumbled with what excuse to give, which somehow led him to confessing the truth. “You’re different tonight.”

Kyle frowned. “Different than what?”

“Than you usually are. Though, I guess we haven’t spoken much before.”

Except for the mostly one-sided sexting
.

Paul cleared his throat. “So, uh. Stencils and snow…stuff. I didn’t realize you were so into art.”

Kyle nodded, relaxing somewhat. “I’ve always been creative. I did more sculpture than painting in school.”

“You’re good. The snow dicks were…lifelike.”

Kyle gave Paul another sideways look, as if to ask,
Why are you bringing this up?
“I enjoy making snow sculptures. Linda gets one every fresh snowfall. At the rate this winter is going, we’ll have to branch into a field to house them.”

“How did you make them so fast? The ones on my porch?”

“Oh, I’m pretty clever when it comes to cock.”

The quip came with Kyle’s affected voice, except instead of simpering affectation, it was a whip crack. It startled Paul, inspired him to sit a little straighter. Kyle didn’t blush, simply stared Paul down.

Paul tried to regain his ground, but between Kyle’s sharp gaze and the mental image of Kyle being good with cock, it disarmed him. He reached for a familiar wall. “I— Sorry. I didn’t mean to start anything again.”

Kyle’s lips pursed as he stood up. He reached for his coat. “I should be heading back.”

Paul rose too. “Kyle, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Kyle waved a hand at Paul, a gentle flick of a slight wrist. “Enough. Message received. I won’t flirt with you anymore, even for fun.”

Paul hurried after him, eventually cutting him off. “Look. You’re a great guy.”

“But you’re not interested, I know. I was making a damn joke.”

“It’s not that I’m not interested. But you’re too—”

Kyle’s gaze flashed a half-second warning before he whipped out a hand and covered Paul’s mouth. When Paul stumbled away, Kyle came with him, until Paul’s back went flat against the door.

“Don’t say another word.” Kyle stared angrily down at him—
down
, yes, because he was a little bit taller than Paul, though decidedly less than half his width. It didn’t seem to matter in that moment.

“Don’t say I’m
young
. Don’t say you’re
old
. Don’t fucking say a word because I don’t want to hear it. It’s demeaning to us both. I’ve already figured out you’re not interested. I’m a big boy—
all grown up
—and I’ve moved on. Personally, I think it’s your loss because I have it on several authorities I’m absolutely
wicked
in bed. Not quite as intense as Arthur, maybe, but then that didn’t exactly work for you, did it?”

When Paul startled, Kyle grinned a grin that made Paul’s guts churn with want.

“Go ahead and think I’m some infant twink wiggling my ass at you, hoping to get plowed by a sweet teddy bear.” The grin faded, leaving only feral heat. Kyle didn’t stroke Paul’s face, but he could swear he tingled simply from the focused gaze of the man before him. “I’m not an infant, I can’t help my body type, and if I got you in the same room as a bed, it wouldn’t be
my
ass sore in the morning.”

Paul couldn’t speak, his breath coming in erratic staccato bursts. When his shock bled away, it left him still paralyzed, but with want, not fear.
That can’t be right,
his brain kept telling him, except as he stared at Kyle, really looked at him, he was pretty sure his brain was wrong.

Paul also suspected, with the way Kyle kept leaning closer, a fiery warrior closing in on his prey, he was about to get kissed. To his surprise, he was
ready
to be kissed. By Kyle Parks. Against the back of the shop door. An angry,
I’ll show you
kiss that already had Paul melting inside.

At the last second, however, Kyle stopped. He drew away, averted his gaze. Then he zipped up his coat and pulled his hat and mittens from his pockets with shaking hands. “I—I should go.”

Don’t go.
That was insane, so Paul swallowed it. “I’ll drive you.”

Kyle jammed the hat over his hair. “It’s fine. I’ll walk.”

No,
that
was insane. “It’s a mile plus to the café, and it’s ten degrees outside.”

“Sounds perfect.” Kyle wrapped his scarf around his face and saluted Paul with a fat mitten. “Text me about Sunday.”

He pushed Paul aside and opened the door, and Paul watched him trudge through the falling snow into the dark night.

The
second Kyle was out of sight of the shop, he called Corrina, whose phone went to voicemail. He hung up, considered sucking it up and walking, then caved and called Gabriel. “I’m sorry to bother you, but are you still in town? If so, is there any way I could talk you into giving me a ride to my car?”

“Yes, and sure—but where are you, and why do you need a ride? Did you have car trouble?”

“I’m walking to the café from Paul and Arthur’s shop. It’s a long way, and I’m freezing.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Gabriel appeared in a green Nissan, and it slid a little as he braked in the thick snow. Kyle climbed in, shaking as much snow from himself as he could. “Thank you
so
much.”