Page 39 of Dragged Home for Christmas

“I think my studio would be the most appropriate setting. It’s on the top floor above the gallery. There’s even a deck.” He cocked his head. “So? I’ve asked. What’s your answer?”

Elliott replied before he had the chance to change his mind.

“I’d love to. When do we start?”

Mike gazed at the grey cedar shakes-covered buildings standing in a U-shape. “Where are we?” In the center were two lines of picnic tables, and over them stood arches constructed of wooden slats. A sloping path led to a sandy beach where he spied a few couples sitting on blankets or strolling along the shore.

Sam pointed to the sign on the largest building.

“Cape Cod National Seashore. Herring Cove beach,” Mike read aloud. He chuckled. “Wow. You meant it aboutleaving the flyers everywhere.” That explained why Sam had gone back to the house to refill his backpack.

I thought we were done for the day.

Sam laughed. “We’re here because this is the last stop on the tour. And we’re just in time.” He indicated the horizon where the sun was already sinking. “This place is the best for watching the sunset. People come here at night too, and light fires on the beach.” He walked past the tables and headed for the sand.

Mike spotted a signpost and gasped. “You have great white sharks here?”

“Uh-huh. They’ve been known to feed on seal pups.” Sam glanced at him. “I think you’re safe. Just stay out of the water.”

“Absolutely I’m gonna stay out of it. I’d freeze my ass off.” Except the temperature had been mild all day, thankfully. He noticed the backpack slung over Sam’s shoulder. “Why do you need that if we’re not here to deliver flyers?” He grinned. “I don’t think the sharks would be interested in a Thanksgiving brunch.”

“And they’d have zero interest in art classes too,” Sam quipped. “No way could they hold a paintbrush, unless it was in their teeth. I brought the pack for a different reason.” They reached the beach, he put the pack down, opened it, and removed—

“You planned this.” Mike had to smile as Sam spread a blanket on the sand.

Sam arched his eyebrows. “You bet I did. Sand gets everywhere.” He reached into the backpack once more and removed a bottle of wine. He smiled. “I think we deserve this after all our efforts, don’t you?”

“Damn straight.” Mike joined him on the blanket. He peered into the pack. “No glasses?”

Sam guffawed. “Nope. We drink it from the bottle. Don’t worry, I don’t have cooties.”

“Good to know.” Mike gazed out at the sky with its changing color scheme. “This is beautiful.”

“I know, right?” The sun’s last rays lit up Sam’s face. He twisted the cap to open the wine.

Mike chuckled. “Ohh, the good stuff.”

He snorted. “It was on sale at Stop & Shop.” He offered it to Mike, who took a drink.

Mike raised his eyebrows. “Hey, not bad.” Mike handed it over, then leaned back on his hands. “So tell me… how didyouend up in P-town? Because you don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, that Midwestern twang is hard to lose. But you don’t want to hear all that.”

Mike gazed at him. “Yes, I do,” he said quietly.

Sam regarded him in silence for a moment before giving a nod. “Okay. I grew up in a small, conservative town. Not going to tell you where, because I left there to forget the place.”

“Fair enough. I take it you had a hard time?”

Sam’s eyes caught the light. “Let’s just say I had a tough time reconciling my love for performance and expressing myself authentically in a world that didn’t always accept my gender fluidity, and leave it at that.”

“Elegantly put.”

Sam took a drink. “I moved to Boston first, but it was way too big. Then I found my way here. I left my old life behind and found a new family with Nick and the others. Not that it’s been smooth sailing, you understand. I’ve had my share of rejection, and I still have the scars, but I’m finally in a place where I feel loved for who I truly am.” He handed Mike the bottle. “Your turn.”

“There isn’t much to tell.” Mike peered at him. “You can tell me to get lost, but… you mentioned something about watching someone slide into oblivion, because of alcohol. Was that a family member?” His heartbeat quickened. “Or an ex?” Mike’s stomach clenched. He wasn’t sure why Sam’s past should matter to him, but apparently it did.

I hope no one hurt him.

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