Page 80 of Christmas Wishes

Riggs entered the kitchen. “What are we hugging about?”

“Keaton being wonderful.” Doris rubbed my back in a motherly way that I appreciated. It was weird not getting a hug from Mom on Christmas.

Strong arms wrapped around us. “I can hug to that.”

The doorbell rang, and we pulled apart. A steady stream of guests arrived, and I stepped in to help Doris serve drinks and monitor things in the kitchen. That was something else I’d always wanted to do during the holidays, but by the time I was old enough to help, my older siblings had already claimed their roles as sous chefs.

I felt important getting to help Doris with Christmas dinner, and once I saw who the guests were, it was an even more meaningful role. Doris’s Christmas dinner mattered. The guests were mostly other older adults in the community who were alone for Christmas because their kids were with their in-laws’ families, or they didn’t have kids, or, for whatever other reason, they found themselves without plans. Then I noticed Doris mentioning things to guests like, “Frank, I made that green bean casserole you love.” The woman was amazing, and I was honored to be a part of her circle.

Everyone treated Riggs like family too. Several thanked him for stopping by to check on issues in their homes. Judging by Riggs’s embarrassed little smiles, they weren’t on his paying clients list. I knew he worked his ass off, but I hadn’t realized that a fair amount of that was taking on extra paying customers so he had the time to do pro bono work for those who needed it.

I’d snagged one hell of a man.

We had a rowdy White Elephant gift exchange, and I ended up with a candle shaped like a round man in an Aloha shirt with a burned wick. By the time we’d served dessert—two pies, a custard, a cake, and a boatload of cookies—my stomach was as full as my heart. Riggs pulled me close to him on the couch with his arm around my shoulder, and I draped my hand over his thigh. The other guests kept stealing glances at us, smiling and whispering among themselves. I was happy to be a spectacle if it meant people would see how loved Riggs was.

Once people began leaving—loaded with leftovers, of course—Riggs and I took to the kitchen to clean up despite Doris’s repeated grumbling that we didn’t have to.

“And you didn’t have to cook all this food for everyone. Go. Sit.” I shooed her to her comfy chair.

I joined Riggs at the sink as we tag-teamed the dishes. “What do you usually do on New Year’s Eve?” I asked. Before I’d decided to stay in Arizona, I’d expected my New Year’s Eve to be something along the lines of splitting a bottle or two of champagne with Arlo while we dissected our trips and the men we’d met in painstaking detail. Then talking each other in and out of texting said men, and then, of course, crying into each other’s arms until we passed out. It would’ve been a fitting end for the year. Though I wouldn’t be with Arlo, our New Year’s Eves would be a lot more celebratory.

“I have an idea,” Riggs suggested. The hesitation in his voice made me look at him.

“I like ideas.”

“We could host a party.”

I nearly dropped the plate I was washing so I could jump in the air and pump my fists. “You’re serious? Oh my god! Yes! I’ve been thinking about how great your home is for entertaining. That would be so fun! We could invite Evie. Obviously, Doris, Esther, and Judith. Do you think anyone from dinner tonight would want to come? What about Lucy? There are a few other people I met at the vendor fair who I’ve been chatting with. Think the popcorn guy would cater it?”

Riggs chuckled in that quiet, amused way of his as he listened to my excitable ramblings. “Yes to all of it. Except the popcorn catering, He might have his own plans.”

I pouted dramatically. “Fine, but I want him to cater my birthday party.”

“Of course.” He kissed my forehead, then turned back to the sink. “I think it’s time I rejoin the land of the living.”

I wrapped my arms around his waist and tried to keep my wet hands off his forest-green button-up shirt. “This is going to be so much fun. I’ve always wanted to host a party.” Apartment living never allowed for the kind of social entertaining I’d always wanted to do. I’d never had a guest list for it either.

“I had an idea too.” I glanced around to make sure Doris wasn’t in the kitchen. “Are you too full for some fun later?”

He angled his head down toward me as his mouth curved into a sinful grin. “What kind of fun?”

“The frisky, so-glad-we’re-together-on-Christmas kind.”

“I always have room for that.” He winked.

I swatted his ass with promise—wet hand and all.

* * *

RIGGS

It was hard to shed our winter gear while laughing and kissing. I tripped over my boots after kicking them off inside my entryway, but Keaton caught me. We were a tangle of limbs and falling clothes by the time we reached my room. Panting and half-hard, we stood at the foot of my bed in our underwear, staring at each other.

Keaton looked delicious in his red bikini briefs. He took a confident step toward me. The chill in the air hardened his nipples to points.

“I’ve got an idea for tonight. Anything specific you’re interested in?” He twirled my chest hair between his fingers.

“Getting naked with you is as far as my brain’s gone. I’m game for your idea.”

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