Page 59 of Christmas for Keeps

Unable to hold back a grin, I poked Con with an elbow. “You’ve always been feisty. I’m glad you and Liz took care of him. He’d certainly better not show his face here again.”

We enjoyed the rest of the cookies in silence, gazing into the fire. After we polished them off, he put a hand on my arm. “I’ve been here a few days but still haven’t seen your studio. Would you show me?”

My heart raced as we walked upstairs. Connor had seen my work countless times and had always been positive, but since I’d been experimenting with my art over the past year, doubt gnawed at me. What if he didn’t like it?

The upper floor was an open space except for the small bathroom, and Connor stopped at the top of the stairs. My easel, in the middle of the room, held a half-completed painting. He stared at it for a moment before stepping closer. “Oh my God,” he said, his voice hardly more than a whisper. Tilting his head, he asked, “Watercolor? What have you been doing?”

Fuck! Does that mean he hates it?“Um… painting a house?” I wanted to run back downstairs. It was stupid to be so nervous, but Connor’s opinion had always mattered to me.

“I can see that,” he said, “but this is the first time I’ve ever seen you work in watercolor.” He walked around, examining the painting from various angles. “It looks like a negative. The house is gorgeous, and the way you’re doing the mountains adds an amazing amount of depth.”

My voice shook when I said, “You’re right. It’s actually called negative painting, and I’m getting the effect with washes. Do you like it?”

“No.” He turned to me and broke into a smile as bright as the sun. “I love it! It’s fantastic. Is this a commission?”

“Yes. A gay couple, Liam and John Macadam, moved to town last year with their twin sons. They saw some of my work at Liz’s and hired me to do a portrait of their boys. They liked it, so this year they asked me to paint their house. We agreed on a winter setting, and you can see what I’ve been doing with it.” I pointed at two small figures. “I put the boys in this one too, but I guess you figured that out yourself.”

He chuckled, looking so beautiful I couldn’t resist joining in. For more than an hour, he moved around the studio looking at things. His insightful comments and intelligent questions were fun to hear, and his sweet praise eased my nerves. After digging through some small paintings on a shelf, he spread out four to view all at once. He eventually held up a painting of a deer in a vividly colored autumn forest. “I remember when you did this one, after our camping trip to North Carolina.”

“Yes.” I walked over to him as memories of an October trip came back. “I turned it into a set about two years ago.”

He looked at the other paintings. “One for each season. Have you been back down there?”

“No. I did the other three here. The mountains are similar, and Vermont has plenty of deer.”

He placed the paintings back on the shelf and looked at me. “Maybe we could go back to North Carolina next year? It’s supposed to be beautiful there in the spring.”

“That’d be great.”

Wrapping his arms around me, he asked, “On my spring break?”

“It’s a plan.” My heart pounded again, this time from happiness. Then I remembered he’d be going back to Boston soon. I dreaded it, but the city wasn’t too far away. We could make it work, and with any luck, we’d be living together soon.

He let me go and smiled. “Don’t look so worried.”

“I’m—” A loud knock on the door downstairs interrupted us. “You think it’s Liz and Kerry again?” I asked.

“Could be. Maybe I left something at the store?”

We headed downstairs, and whoever it was knocked again as we reached the bottom. “Coming,” I called out, hurrying to unlock and open the door. As soon as I did, rage thundered through me. “You! You fucking bastard! I’ll—”

“No, Zach! He’s not worth it!” Con grabbed my arm, barely stopping me from pummeling Emory’s face. “How dare you come here,” he told Emory. “Didn’t you hear a word I said this afternoon? You’d better go because I can’t hold him back for long. And while he’s beating the shit out of you, I’ll pluck every whisker out of your face.”

“Wait!” Emory held up both hands. “I’m not here to fight. I came to apologize.”

“Too damn late for that!” I said. Christmas Eve wasn’t a good time to beat anyone senseless, so I took a breath and tried to stay as calm as possible. “Get out of my sight, Emory. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you caused?”

“That’s exactly what he intended to do,” Con said, staring at Emory. “Get your sorry ass away from here.”

Emory took a few steps back. “Hear me out. Yes, I meant to cause trouble, but it wasn’t just for the fun of it. I did it because I like you, Zach.”

“Give me a fucking break. If you liked me, you’d never have lied to Connor the way you did.”

“I’ve wanted to be with you since we met, and it made me—”

Pulling the door closed behind us before all the heat escaped, I stepped forward and bridged the distance between us. “No. What you’ve wanted was to fuck, which was never going to happen.”

“I see that now but—”

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