Page 43 of The Christmas Keeper

I left my seat at the desk to sit beside him on the old, bow-legged sofa. I pulled the blanket he’d slept under over us. He cuddled in close, two bugs in a rug as Dad liked to say.

“I will not mind if some old fans show up. I won’t mind if new fans show up. Here. At the bar. I will mind if people track us down to our homes. That is a crime punishable by goose pinching for starters, followed by a call to the state police. I’m not going to let some obsessed fan scare you.”

He nuzzled his nose into my throat, then tossed a lanky leg over my lap, his thigh resting over mine as he hugged me into him tightly.

“Agreed on all points.” He smelled so good, his curls tickling my chin. “I told him everything. All about the drugs, the stints in rehab, and my life on the road.”

“Did you mention your parents?” I ran my hand up and down his back. If we never moved from this spot, I would die a happy man.

“I mentioned that we had a falling out. He pressed a bit. I said that no is a complete sentence and to move on. And he did. Overall, he was pretty nice. I guess we’ll see if that kindness was just an act to make me spill more juicy stuff or not. He did ask if you were mad at his aunt still and I said that I thought it was more a case of feeling betrayed.”

“That. But yeah, I’m mad at her. She said she wouldn’t say anything and then what does she do? Go running to some wanna-be Anderson Cooper to tell him about her amazing discovery. That’s not the way people in this town act.”

“She was trying to help her nephew. Maybe you could consider giving her a second chance. Everyone deserves at least that in life. Some of us need third, fourth, and fifth chances before we get it right.”

I had to squeeze my eyes tightly and frown. “Ugh, damn it. Why are you always so damn right and nice and kind?”

He softly laughed as his breath fanned over my throat. “Lots and lots of rehab. Lots and lots of group therapy. Lots of praying. Tons of praying, to be honest. I’m really not all right all that often. I do try to be kind. Do unto others and all that.”

I huffed dramatically. “Fine, I will consider not being a dick and banning Paula, but she is going to have to do some big-time tipping for her to be graced with my sweet disposition again.”

That made him laugh out loud.

I could be sweet. When I had good reason. Kenan got lots of my sweet because he was a very good reason.

“I’m so glad you’re staying here in Whiteham,” I confessed into his curly hair. He sighed as he melted into me. “I think I might kind of love you.” God I hoped it wasn’t too soon to say that to him. If he ran off into the night, I would curl up and let myself mummify. Months from now, someone would find this human-sized cheese curl of a human body lying on the sofa dead from a broken heart that couldn’t take being broken again.

He picked up his head, kissed the corner of my mouth, and then stared right into me. “I think I might kind of love you too. And no, it’s not too soon to say it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“You were thinking it.”

Shit. He knew me too well already. “Yeah, okay, I was.”

From down below, the sound of customers filing in rose up the stairs. Kenan sighed. “I forgot to lock the front door.”

“Hey, barkeeps, we’re hungry and thirsty!” Lyle shouted from downstairs.

“If we stay very quiet, maybe they’ll go away?” Kenan posed.

“Are you two getting down with it?!” Lyle bellowed up the stairs. Titters could be heard from his buddies.

“No, we’re going over beer invoices,” I yelled as Kenan snickered softly.

“Is that what the kids are calling it now?” Lyle replied. More dirty sniggers from the peanut gallery downstairs.

“Can’t they pour themselves a mug?” Kenan whispered, unwilling to leave my arms, it seemed.

“Nah, they’ll just drink all my beer for free and then set the place on fire trying to make double batches of onion rings. We better get down there.”

“If you insist. Can I have a kiss?” he asked, and I was more than happy to oblige. The kissing and hugging could have gone on for much longer, but someone had fired up the jukebox and the smell of hot fryer grease reached my nose. I threw off the cover, took his hand, and pulled Kenan to his sneaks.

“Yeah, they’re trying to make food.” I hauled ass down the stairs where the usual suspects were all seated at the bar aside from Lyle, who was in the kitchen. I tossed him out with a growl as Kenan made more coffee. Once the first wave of sawmill workers were full, I snuck out of the kitchen to grab a soda.Kenan was at a table with three of the mill workers, laughing at something one of them had said.

“You and Kenan got a thing going?” Lyle asked as if everyone in this damn burg didn’t already know that.

“Yeah, we do.”

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