Christmas Lights: An Owatonna Christmas Novella

by RJ Scott

  “Why don’t you let me handle setting up the calf pens today?” I glanced back at her. She looked tired. Waking up tired seemed wrong.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “I can get them set up before I go pick up Ryker,” I told her. She frowned, knowing that arguing with me was like arguing with my father. As much as he and I butted heads, we were cut from that same stubborn, proud Minnesota farmer cloth. “The first calves aren’t due to hit the ground until mid-January.”

  “Damn Curtis Young and his stupid shitty fences,” Mom muttered under her breath. I nodded silently. Yeah, it sucked that our neighbor’s bull had walked through a hole in his shitty fencing last spring, bulled through our electric fence, and fucked just about every cow we had out in the pasture that day. We much preferred having our calves born a little later, say mid-February through March, but good old Festus the Hereford clearly had other plans for our dairy cows. “Jacob, please, let me help. You’re taking on too much with the work and the bookkeeping. I see the light under your door late at night when I get up to use the bathroom. There’s no shame in getting help.”

  I turned the fire off under the sausages and forked one with vengeance. “There is shame in letting your mother do your work for you,” I mumbled as the coffee pot spit and hissed. “I’ve got this under control.” I forced a smile, then turned around to let her see how good and wonderful life was. She knew better, so did Dad, but it was Christmas, damn it, and my boyfriend was going to be here in less than eight hours. We had five days alone in a cabin with our college friends. It was going to be great. I had plans. Plans that involved me, Ryker, and the thin gold band hidden in my sock drawer. A band I’d been paying off in installments at Robinson’s Jewelers in town for over a year. This holiday had to be perfect, even if the perfection was just an illusion until Ryker flew back to Arizona with my engagement ring on his finger. I was not willing to accept anything less than a dream Christmas this year.

  Ryker’s plane was landing. I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve spying Santa dropping out of the clouds in his sleigh. There were two other people here at the Eden Crossing Airport. I knew them both, went to school with their kids, got into a fight with one when he’d called me a faggot and shoved me into a bathroom stall in my senior year. I’d cleaned that asshole’s clock and gotten suspended for fighting and being theatrical.

  Yeah, I was the one having homophobic slurs thrown at me while I was being hit, but I was the theatrical one.

  Whatever. I’d kicked the shit out of Delbert Williams that day. Stupid, hateful jerk shouldn’t have taken on a guy twice his size. I might’ve been gay, but I wasn’t a tiny, tender thing like Hayne, my friend Scott’s artistic boyfriend. You mess with the bull you get the horns, as my dad liked to say.

  The plane rolled up to the terminal. I waited inside, pacing back and forth, my fingers itching to touch those damn curls of Ryker’s. Disembarkation seemed to take forever, but suddenly there he was, jogging around the now-closed security station, his smile growing wider when his light brown eyes landed on me. He tossed his carry-on bag higher on his shoulder and broke into a dash that didn’t stop until he was in my arms and my mouth was over his. Fuck the people gaping at the two gay boys kissing. To hell with what they thought. My man was finally back in my arms, and tasting his lips was the most important thing in the world.

  “God, I missed you,” I panted when we broke apart for air. Ryker slid his fingers into my short hair, then yanked my lips back to his. His tongue rolled over mine, teasing and tasting, making every nerve ending in my body fire off at once. Lust and love engulfed me. I began to edge him into a soda machine, but he snickered across my lips, then pulled back an inch or so, his lips pink and puffy from kissing.

  “Easy, big man,” he whispered, his fingernails gently raking over my scalp. “Your neighbors are going to call the cops on us.”

  I threw the six or so people gawking at us a dark look. They all lowered their eyes and scurried off, talking among themselves.

  “Let’s get out of here.” I took his hand and tugged him away from the soda machine. My ’89 Ford pickup sat out in the snowy parking lot. The new bright orange paint job that I’d given it last year in the hope of holding the rust at bay, made it stand out like a beacon among all the piles of freshly plowed snow.

  “Why? Why that color, my man?” Ryker teased as he always did when he saw my truck. I bumped his hip with mine, took his bag, stowed it behind the seat, and then watched as he climbed up into her. His jeans pulled tight across his round, high ass. Skater ass, just like mine, just a little more compact. My dick was straining the zipper on my jeans. I was so happy that I’d had the sense to tell the guys to fly in tomorrow. Tonight was all ours. Mine and Ryker’s. Alone. In the cabin overlooking the alfalfa fields. I planned to do chores, eat dinner with the folks as they wished, and then cart Ryker to the cabin on my battered Polaris four-wheeler and not let him out of the big bed in the master bedroom until the next day. I pushed the boner with the heel of my hand. Ryker caught the movement and gave me a sultry wink that stole my breath.

  He was fiddling with the CD player as soon as the engine cranked over. I slapped his hand, giving him a mock glower that he laughed off. Ah man, that laugh of his. It was so rich and warm, honest. The need to kiss him fired up. So I did.

  “I love kissing you,” he cooed, nipping at my lower lip before sitting back to buckle himself in. “Can we do some of my tunes?”

  “There’s no aux jack, babe,” I reminded him. He huffed with such indignation it made me chuckle. “Welcome to Eden Crossing, population five hundred and two. Oh and dont forget the ten thousand cows.”

  “It’s rustic, I know, but even people out here have to have cars with aux jacks for your phone, or Bluetooth, or even a damn antenna!”

  “Maybe the people in town, but us poor farmers are lucky we can afford cans of spray paint to spice up our rides.”

  “Sorry, I was just being a dick, teasing a bit,” he said. I shook my head, shaking away anxiety. “I love this old truck. Remember when we took her to that pond and dove off the tailgate into the water? Man, that was fun. Then afterward, we fucked in the back on that blanket that smelled like a barn. And the cows wandered up, and one licked your naked ass?” He laughed so hard at the memory that I had to join in.

  “I will say that cow put your rimming skills to shame,” I tossed out as we pulled away from the airport parking lot and onto a newly paved two-lane that would lead us to Eden Crossing proper. Ryker snorted at the chirp. He knew better. Delicate flakes floated down from a passing snow cloud. He chattered away the entire ride, which was about forty minutes each way, telling me about the team and his friends out in the Grand Canyon state.

  “How’s your dad doing?” he asked as Blake Shelton sang on about a girl he’d loved and lost.

  “Muddling along. The orthopedic surgeon we dragged him to over in Dalton called back yesterday. Said that the X-rays of his hips are unlike anything he’s ever seen. The left one is like the hip of an eighty-year-old, the right like a twenty-year-old. He asked Dad if he’d ever fallen, and of course he said no, but later that night, Mom told me about the time he fell off the back of a hay wagon when they were dating. Guess he was eighteen or so then. Said he landed on his hip and limped for a few days but never had it looked at, of course.”

  “Damn, so do you think he’ll go get the surgery?”

  I shook my head. “No money. We had to let the insurance lapse to pay the mortgage.”

  He was quiet for a moment, but I knew what was coming next. “I can help, Jacob.” I shook my head. Ryker exhaled loudly. “I’m making pretty good money now. I can help. If it’s not enough, I’m sure Dad and Ten would—”

  “We don’t need charity,” I barked, my fingers curling around the steering wheel. A snowplow passed us, blowing fine white powder onto the windshield.

  “It’s not charity; it’s help. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help, Jacob. I love you. Let me help.”
>
  “That’s kind, and I love you for it, but the Bensons don’t leech off their relatives, lovers, or the government. We have pride.” I nodded at my own words, only to realize that they weren’t my words at all. They were my grandfather’s and my father’s words. Still, they felt right. I was not going to let my superstar boyfriend pay for my father’s hip replacement. There was no way in hell my dad would take a penny from Ryker, Jared, or Tennant, even if I did give in. “Can we not talk about this now? It’s Christmas. You’re here in Minnesota, and we have five whole days together. I want everything to be perfect.”

  “It will be,” he said, reaching over to give my thigh a squeeze. “It’s already perfect just because we’re together.”

  I gave him a shaky smile. “It’ll be even more perfect once we get home. Mom’s making macaroni and cheese and homemade chicken tenders with her special ranch dip.”

  “Yes!” Ryker shouted, pumping the air while kicking at the floor of my truck. I prayed he didn’t kick the floor out. The old girl was a little weak in spots.

  When we pulled up in front of the farmhouse, Ryker was the first one out of the truck. My mother fussed over him, pushing his long curly hair from his face as Dad shook his hand and asked how the hockey was going. We spent the afternoon with my parents, did the evening chores, stuffed ourselves on Mom’s mac n’ cheese and tenders, and then around seven or so, we climbed onto my four-wheeler and rode off. The air was so cold it made my head hurt, but Ryker was behind me, holding on for dear life, his breath warm on my neck. We bounced and bounded over snow-covered fields where corn, oats, and alfalfa would be growing next summer. We splashed through the shallow creek that ran through our property, taking a deer trail that led into a thickly wooded area. The headlights on the Polaris illuminated the woods. A white-tailed doe raced across the path as we wound our way to the camp. When we came upon it, I throttled the four-wheeler down, then cut the engine. Smoke was pouring out of the chimney. I smiled at the kindness of my father to come out here to do that for us. He’d come a long way in his acceptance of his gay son hooking up with the rich boyfriend.

  Ryker slid off the ATV, his bag on his back, and raced to the cabin. I followed hot on his heels, throwing the door open, spinning around to latch onto him, and then kissing him into the nearest wall.

  “Bed… now,” I panted over his slick lips.

  “Yeah, yeah, bed now,” he wantonly agreed, then kicked the front door shut. The only light came from the fire in the hearth. I’d never set eyes on a more beautiful sight than a passionate Ryker Madsen with the colors of a fire playing over his stunning face.

  “Yeah, bed now.” I took him by the hand and led him to the only bedroom with a double bed, clean sheets, and a tube of lube in the bedside drawer.

  Chapter 3

  Ryker

  Jacob had unbuttoned his jeans and was pulling them off before I’d even reached the bed, but I wasn’t far behind, scrambling to keep up with him as he clambered onto the mattress and then reached over to grab the supplies that he’d dumped there.

  I was mad with the need to touch him, and he’d taken up so much of my fantasies back home that to have him real and warm under me was intoxicating.

  "It’s been too long," Jacob growled, and all I could do was nod as I laid my weight on him and kissed his neck. "So fucking sexy when you got off that plane, and all I wanted to do was rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless in the damn airport."

  We tussled for a moment, getting used to each other’s weight, and then it was a chaotic madness of need and want, and Jacob’s big body covering mine, was everything I ever wanted. I kissed him as if I was never going to see him again, savoring the taste of him and the texture of every part I could touch, the smoothness of his skin, the bristle of day-old stubble, the scent of shower gel, and the hard press of his cock against my thigh.

  Jacob followed some unmapped path from my lips to my cheekbones and down to my throat, marking every inch of me with tiny nips and kisses, and I meant to move; I really did. I’d imagined this moment so many times, but all I could do was grip his flesh and hold on for the ride. There was no worry about the team or focusing on the game or planning and practicing and playing. There was nothing but the scent and weight of my boyfriend reminding me how much I’d missed him. I wanted him this way, I wanted to let go, I needed to, and the team and the game were nothing as I rode the sensation of being cared for and loved so utterly and completely. Jacob slid a little lower and paid a lot of attention to my nipples, his fingers on one, kissing and biting at the other, and I near lifted him from the bed. My nipples were hardwired to my cock, and I could feel Jacob's chuckle against my skin because he damn well knew that.

  "I’ve missed this," Jacob growled, and I pushed against him, wanting more—desperate for more. “I want to go slow, but I can’t…”

  I finally moved, gripping him and yanking him to me as hard as I could.

  “Not slow, not this time,” I pleaded and felt for the lube, desperately trying to slick my fingers so I could push them inside me, but he was in my way, and he was fucking smiling, and all I wanted was him deep within me. I shoved him, spread my legs, and began to slick the way for him. His eyes widened as for a moment he watched, and then with another faintly territorial growl, he squeezed out more lube, and then it was both of us smoothing the way. We’d long ago forgone the need for a condom, and the image of him inside me, fucking me into the bed was more than enough for me to want to come right the fuck now. Jacob shoved and settled, pushing my thighs up. Then he kissed me as he pressed in slowly.

  “Okay?” he asked, concern in the single word. It didn’t matter how this madness to fuck fell on us. We would always look out for each other. I wiped my lube-sticky hands on the nearest T-shirt, then reached up and smoothed my fingers into his short hair. It was a little longer than he’d had it the last time we’d been together but it would never be as long and unruly as mine. I liked this hint of softness on my stubborn, sexy farmer.

  “Always,” I murmured and rocked back a little, his cock fully inside, his eyes wide and the kisses even deeper. I could come from this alone, just the gentle rocking, but Jacob took it higher, deeper, and my cock was trapped between us, so I rode the edge of an orgasm for the longest time. I didn’t want it ever to stop. I wanted to stay in this moment forever, and tears threatened to fall with the perfect storm of emotions inside me. I loved Jacob. He was too far away, he was my everything, but I missed him so badly. I closed my eyes as he quickened his pace.

  “I love you,” he groaned as his movements stuttered, and I knew he was close. I yanked his head down in not such a pretty move. He opened his eyes briefly, and I was lost in the depths of his blue gaze.

  “I love you,” I told him back and slid a hand between us, circling my cock pressing against his belly, and when he roared his release, I was right there with him, a whiteout of sensation that seemed to last forever.

  The kisses were frantic, then became lazier, and we lay quietly for a short while. I swore I’d never felt so much at peace as I did with Jacob softening inside me.

  “I can’t do this,” he muttered between kisses. “I can’t handle not seeing you, and not just to make love but to talk while we hold hands.”

  “It’s killing me being apart,” I told him the absolute truth of how I felt being away from him. Not because I wanted him to quit his life dramatically and follow me all over the fucking country, but because he had to know how much I loved him. Was I being selfish? Should I even have said something like that? Was this raw honesty too much to lay on him? All he did was sigh as he finally pulled out, then cleaned us up with what looked like wipes that were next to the bed. That was my Jacob, ready for everything. I gathered him close, and he rolled so that I lay half on him, my head tucked under his chin, and he tugged up a blanket to cover us. In that way we held each other, and I wanted this moment to last forever.

  "Ryker? You still awake?" Jacob whispered into the softly lit room.

&n
bsp; "Uh-huh."

  "I've got something I wanted to say."

  "Uh-huh."

  “I love you so much.”

  I smiled against his skin, pressing a soft kiss at the base of his throat. “I love you too.”

  “It’s been shit, you know, without you,” Jacob murmured.

  “It’s been shit without you as well.”

  “But you have the team, and you’re working to win, and…”

  I couldn’t help frowning. “And you have your farm, your legacy. You’re the backbone of this country, right?”

  He stayed silent for a moment. “The farm takes up everything in me, the work, the process, my plans for everything, tidying up this cabin so we’d have somewhere to stay, but life feels so gray when you’re not here, like every day is just the same as the last. I don’t know what I’m doing…”

  I lifted my head and looked into his serious gaze.

  “You were born to work a farm,” I said, and even though a small treacherous part of me didn’t want that to be right, it was the truth and part of his character, the heart of him that I loved just as much as the rest.

  “Maybe it’s not what…” He huffed a sigh and didn’t finish the sentence, and I tightened my hold to show him support. “I’m tired,” he added.

  “Then sleep, because I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

  He wriggled a little to get comfortable, tucked the blanket close around us. “I’ve missed you too much. When I see the dawn or a shooting star or watch the leaves turn, I think about you and love you and miss you so damn much.”

  “And every time I get on the ice or listen to Tim McGraw, I miss you as well.”