Page 63 of Must Love Christmas

“Since meeting you, I guess.” At the end of the row was a closed box containing decorations for a different holiday. “Wait.” Garen yanked open the box and drew out a cardboard skeleton. “We missed Halloween because of the flu.” He shook the skeleton at Simon, making it dance. “We could do a Halloween-themed Christmas!”

“A what, now?”

Garen went to the corner and took hold of the lighted garland hanging there. “We could put fake spider webs on this. And the tree, we could strip the needles off the branches on one side to make it look half-dead.”

Simon gawped at him like he’d sprouted a second nose. “Are you mad? We’ve put in too much work to redo it all. Save this idea for next year.”

“Next year it won’t matter, because I won’t have missed Halloween.” Garen turned to the fireplace, his brain buzzing with ideas. “I could cut a wee hole in the space above the fire and put this skeleton through, make it look like a dead Santa is coming down the chimney.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Simon patted the air, palms down. “Dial it back, okay? Let me think for a second.”

Right. Garen took a deep breath, then let it out. Much as he wanted to distract Simon from his lack of Mediterranean holiday, going over the top would only annoy him.

Simon drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. “What if we made just one Halloween-Christmas hybrid decoration? Something small but fun.”

“Like what?”

“Like…a haunted gingerbread house?”

“Ohhhh.” Garen suppressed the urge to tackle-hug him. “That’s genius.” His mind started zooming again. “We’ll do a biscuit-crumb graveyard in front of the house, with a gingerbread tombstone for every guest at our party. Each person can eat their tombstone as an act of defiance against their own mortality.”

Simon gave him thatyou’re-a-pure-daftielook. “I was thinking marzipan ghosts, but that’s sound too. I’ll order the supplies, and we’ll put it together next week.”

“Thank you.” Garen went over and sat beside him on the couch, taking care not to crowd too close. “My favorite part of Christmas growing up was our family doing projects together. So this haunted gingerbread house will be like that for us.” He risked sounding sappy again. “We’re like a mini-family now, at least for Christmas.”

Simon smiled. “Except we’ll not be forced to do any family things we don’t want to do.”

“Exactly,” Garen said. “Like pretending to enjoy my dad’s fruitcake.”

“Or listening to my cousins’ rubbish children’s choir.”

“Or watching my teenage stepbrothers aggressively ignore my mum.”

“Or humoring me great aunties when they ask which lucky young lady I’m gonna marry.”

“I thought you were out to your local family,” Garen said.

“I am, but the older ones still think I’m going through a phase.”

As they laughed together, their eyes met, and Garen felt a shivery heat sweep up the back of his neck.

He jerked his gaze to the floor. It had felt safe to flirt with Simon in hospital, where they couldn’t act on it, but now that they were home together, what was stopping them? Only their own self-control, a force that seemed to weaken every day, at least on Garen’s part. All he could think about was Simon’s hands and how much he wanted them against his skin and in his hair, no matter how unsteady they were.

Simon cleared his throat, then pointed to the coffee table, where Garen’s wooden bear statue now wore a tiny Santa hat. “I’ve always meant to ask, what’s with the bear?”

Garen exhaled, relieved to be steered back to reality. “My sister gave it to me. It’s the national animal of Russia.”

“That makes sense. Greece’s national animal is the dolphin.”

“Oh, cool. Dolphins are really…” Garen’s imagination snagged on an image of Simon swimming naked in the ocean. “…cool.”

Simon examined the Christmas tree across the room, seemingly oblivious to Garen’s desire to jump into his lap. “One of my family’s traditions is that after the star goes on, we’re done decorating.”

Garen smirked. “Is that your way of saying you’ve had enough?”

“It’s my way of saying our flat has had enough. It’s time to send those boxes back to storage. Also, you do realize that every reindeer figurine and snow globe need to be dusted at some point.”

“Do they, though?” Garen laughed at Simon’s glare. “Okay, okay. I’ll get the stepladder.”

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