Page 25 of Christmas Wishes

This guy was something else. People usually combated my brusqueness with being overly friendly. Not Keaton. He wasn’t put off by my bristles.

“I was raised here.” I stared at Keaton. Keaton stared back, and we entered a blink-off. “I’m not sure what you want.”

Keaton picked up his mug of tea. “Typically, you have two options. You could offer to elaborate or ask a question.”

I fought back a smile. A question would allow me to stop talking and keep eating, but the least I could do was answer a couple of questions since he’d generously made a big meal to share with me. He spoiled me with his cooking. I was already dreading returning to frozen dinners and protein bars when he left. I groaned internally.

The food was starting to grow cold, and it would be rude of me not to enjoy it at its ideal temperature.

“Did you grow up in Minneapolis?”

Keaton clapped. “There you go. Gold star. Yes, I did. I’ve got a huge family. My grandma was one of seventeen kids, and my mom was one of eight. And that’s just the one side. I’ve got five siblings.”

My eyes widened. “So your family could populate a small town?”

Keaton laughed, which made creases form around his eyes. He must laugh a lot. I looked back at the plate.

“You could say that. The holidays are ridiculous. When I was a kid, my grandparents used to rent a hotel ballroom for Christmas Eve dinner, but now we’ve splintered off intoslightlysmaller groups.”

“I can’t imagine what that’s like. I have one brother and a small extended family,” I admitted grudgingly.

Keaton’s smile was triumphant, tickling the urge to offer more. “Does your family live here too?”

I shook my head and shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth. One of his perfectly sculpted brows arched. I took my time chewing and swallowing because this was the most entertainment I’d had all day.

“My brother moved away for college and never came back. My parents begrudgingly stayed in town because my dad ran Grandpa’s business in the area after he died, but they hated it here. As soon as they could get away with selling everything off without it looking bad, they did and retired to Colorado.”

Nepotism at its finest. But how could I judge them when I’d basically done the same? Nico was more of a father or grandfather figure than anyone in my bloodline, and he’d left his business and home to me. How was I any different from my dad?At least I want to live here.

“Colorado? Why? Isn’t it just as snowy there too?” His face scrunched like he’d smelled something sour.

“It is, but it’s higher status. Here, they worried they’d look like losers who never left the area they’d grown up in. But there, they are wealthy retirees living the high life.”

Keaton crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the chair. “What’s wrong with staying in the same place? I was raised in Minneapolis. Anyone who judges me for that can fuck off.”

One corner of my mouth hitched up. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I think it’s the small-town element more than anything.”

Keaton nodded. “Makes sense. Haven’t found a partner around here? I’m sure the apps are hopping.” His eyebrows bounced suggestively.

“More action than West Hollywood,” I said in a monotone voice before picking up the fork again and jabbing a green bean.

Keaton tilted his head back and laughed. The faintest stubble trailed partway down his neck. “So, you’re queer then?”

I grunted as I chewed.

“No Mr. Caveman in the picture?” He asked the question innocently, but the interest in his eyes told a different story. His questions made me feel like I was walking a high wire over a pit of burning coals.

“There was an almost Mr. Caveman. Not anymore.”

Keaton straightened like he’d caught a whiff of prey in the vicinity. “What kind of man makes a suitable caveman mate?”

A man like you.But that wasn’t quite true. At first glance, there were similarities between Keaton and my ex, but the more I talked to Keaton, the more I realized those similarities were superficial.

“Tolerant.”

Keaton laughed. “At least you’re self-aware. I bet you like a guy who alphabetizes his DVDs.”

I scoffed. “DVDs should be organized by genre, obviously. I prefer someone who keeps me on my toes.” Had Keaton marinated the meatloaf in truth serum? Jesus.

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