“But really, you’re out there alone so much of the time. You really are becoming a hermit, and you’re only, what? Forty-six? Are you hooking up, at least?”
“Sure, once in a while.” Nick shrugged. “I go to the club in Barrie. It’s fine.” It had gotten a little boring, if he was honest. In a rural area, pickings were slim, and he hadn’t found anyone who wanted a daddy or whose needs could satisfy him. Although he and Eric had only been five years apart in age, Nick had definitely been Daddy in the bedroom, and they’d both found it incredibly fulfilling.
But Nick hadn’t assumed the role in years now. For him it was about more than just play-acting—the satisfaction came in that genuine need and surrender, giving them both peace. In his sporadic hookups over the years, he’d never met anyone with that certain vulnerability he was drawn to. Maybe he should have tried harder to meet more men, but it was so much damn work. Simpler to lose himself in the solitude and dependable rhythms of the farm.
“And do you ever bring someone out there to the Fortress of Solitude?”
Nick ate another fry. “You and Des come for dinner every month”
“We don’t count.”
He shrugged. “I have a dog. She’s much better company than people.”
“As wonderful as Ella is, she does lack certain qualities that people possess.”
“I know. That’s why she’s perfect when she’s not chasing squirrels and getting sprayed by skunks. But you’ll be delighted to hear that I’m going to have to hire an extra hand to cut down trees this week. The demand is late this season after that warm spell at the beginning of December. I’ll be behind after taking time out to play Santa.”
John grimaced. “I’m sorry to put you out. I really do appreciate you stepping up at the last minute—especially considering how much you hate people, and particularly crowds of them.” John winked, but his smile faded. “And I don’t mean to nag. We worry about you all alone out there as the years go by. We just wish—”
Hunter returned, skidding to a halt as John and Nick looked at him. In the silence, he fidgeted and defensively asked, “What?”
Such rough, skittish edges Hunter had, and Nick wondered what it would take to calm those jitters. Which was ridiculous. He had no time to be intrigued by some pretty young man, so he said dryly, “Don’t worry, we weren’t talking about you.” He looked away dismissively.
“Actually, you’re just the man Nick needs!” John clapped his hands, grinning. “He was saying he needs help on the farm next week, and I know you’re looking for more work. It’s the perfect solution.”
Nick glared at him, not sure whether the bolt of adrenaline coursing through him was dread or anticipation. “I was going to ask Bill Chang.”
“I think he’s in Florida,” John said. “Hunter, you’re free during the week, right?”
Hunter eyed Nick uneasily. “Yeah, totally. Uh, what kind of work is it?”
John said, “Nick owns a Christmas tree farm. Off ninety-three, out near Thorny Creek. All by his lonesome.” To Nick, he asked, “You need help chopping down and that kind of stuff?”
Well… Maybe there was no harm in giving the kid a chance. “Yes. It’s hard, sweaty work—and not the kind from wearing silly costumes in an overheated mall.” He’d meant it as a joke, but Hunter shifted from foot to foot, crossing his arms. Not defiantly—defensively.
Hunter said, “Oh, okay. I don’t know if I’m strong enough?”
The urge to guide and show him just how strong he could be rose up in Nick, a hunger he knew he should ignore. “If you don’t think you can do it, I’ll find someone else.” He shrugged carelessly, yet he hoped Hunter would meet the challenge.
Yes, there was something about him—the spirited insolence paired with uneasiness, that self-consciousness like he truly didn’t realize how beautiful he was. He seemed to be a jumble of contradictions, but Nick supposed he was too. He found most people exhausting and preferred solitude, yet he was drawn to Hunter.
“I can do it.” Hunter nodded as if convincing himself, drawing up straighter, his tights leaving nothing to the imagination. “Definitely.”
“There you go!” John opened a box of doughnut holes and ate one with gusto. “Santa and his elf! What could be better?”
Chapter Three
OMG is it true you’re back in the tights???
Hunter smiled as Shelby’s text flashed on his phone’s screen Monday night, and he paused his game and stretched out on his mom’s old leather couch. Shelby had been one of his few friends in high school and a fellow mall elf back when John could afford to hire more than one.
Hunter wished desperately that she was still in Pinevale, or at least Ontario. She’d gone to UBC and had landed a job at a hip yoga company in Vancouver. He was thrilled for her, of course. Maybe a little jealous that she seemed to have her life figured out, but at least ninety-five percent thrilled.
He typed back:
I hope my temporary return to elfhood isn’t the biggest news Pinevale’s gossip network has to offer.
Shelby responded:
I’m afraid so. Although I also hear Santa’s some super hottie? Do tell. And poor Mr. Tremblay. He was always so nice.
Hunter filled her in on what he knew about Mr. Tremblay and his broken hip. Then he added:
Santa was hot, yeah. He owns some Christmas tree farm way out of town? He was kind of a dick, tbh.
Which hadn’t stopped Hunter from seeing visions of Nick’s chest in that white undershirt, his chest hair poking out, arms thick, nipples so…lickable.
OMFG, that hot guy who lives in the woods? I met him once when my mom went to talk to him about getting trees to sell for the Girl Guides. I was only thirteen or something, but I definitely appreciated that whole lumberjack vibe.
Hunter replied:
Yeah, he’s still got that going on. He waited for Shelby’s response.
You know, I think he might be gay now that I think about it? You should get on that. Tell him you’ve been very, very naughty.
He sucked in a breath, excitement sparking. Nick was gay? Well, he was apparently friends with John—not that John didn’t have straight friends. But it was irrelevant anyway. Hunter laughed out loud and said to himself, “Even if Nick Spini’s gay, he thinks I’m an idiot. And even if he didn’t, I’d never get a guy like that.” Before he could respond to Shelby, she sent:
And don’t give me that crap about you not being hot enough. It’s like you look in the mirror and still see yourself in grade ten. You’re gorgeous. You realize most dudes are totally intimidated by you, right? And this is why you’re somehow still a virgin despite being a walking wet dream?
Hunter barked out a laugh and replied:
Sure. If you say so.
He could imagine her impatient huff as she typed:
I’m telling you. Remember when we went out last summer when I came home? I know you’re nervous and insecure, but it comes across like you’re not interested. So you go home alone when everyone in the bar wants to bang you. Also, I maintain that Brett Leblanc wanted to do you even though you were still in your awkward phase.
He winced thinking of star hockey player Brett, who’d teased him and called him gay so much that Hunter had finally stood up to him and said he was, and if Brett didn’t like it, he could kiss his queer ass. That had amazingly shut up Brett and anyone else who might have had an issue with it.
Hunter had already been honest about his sexuality at home, but he’d never planned to come out at school. It had turned out shockingly okay. He wished he could bottle the confidence he’d had in that moment and apply it to the rest of his life. Maybe he just needed to get really angry for it to come out. So to speak.
Seriously, you’re a babe. It’s time you got out of your own way. And don’t roll your eyes.
Laughing, he stopped himself, although his eyes were halfway there. He typed:
Okay, okay, I’m gorgeous. Now fill me in about that new guy you’re seeing.
After they finished texting, Hunter put down his phone and watched the lights on the fake tree in the corner of the living room shine on the glittery ornaments. He said out loud, “I’m gorgeous,” then scoffed.
He was fine. Not too short, a little skinny, but not as bad as he used to be. His face had cleared up aside from the freckle situation, and he had okay blond hair. He’d definitely planned on having so much sex in university, but he’d always held back for some reason. He’d never been able to really let go and trust another guy, and then he’d started to feel extremely self-conscious about still being a virgin. Now here he was caught in a vicious cycle.
He closed his eyes, letting one of his favorite fantasies unspool. It was only images, really—a beefy man being in charge, Hunter being penetrated hard or maybe even spanked. All the control and worry taken from him so he could relax and be free. Be fucked and taken care of. He’d watched plenty of porn, and he was always drawn to the hairy doms.
His cock stirred, and he rubbed it with the heel of his hand through his track pants. In his fantasies, the man taking control was always older, although Hunter had never had the guts to try it in real life. He was terrified he’d be laughed at, and he’d probably get it all stupidly wrong anyway due to the whole virgin thing.
He should just man up, install Grindr, find some guy, and get his first time over with. Rip off the Band-Aid. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to have sex, but he’d built it into a mountain in his mind. He’d been too chickenshit to put himself out there for too long.
The idea that Nick was gay popped back into Hunter’s head. On Sunday, they’d done another long day in Santa’s Village, and Nick hadn’t said much aside from giving him gruff instructions on coming out to the farm on Tuesday. But Hunter could have sworn he’d caught Nick checking out his ass more than once. That he’d felt…something in the air between them in that freezing storage room. He’d clearly made a shitty first impression on Nick by being late, and he was determined to prove himself.
He laughed out loud, shaking his head. Nick probably couldn’t have cared less, and it was all in Hunter’s pathetic virgin mind. Still, his thoughts drifted back to Nick. Was he gay? Had he actually been checking out Hunter’s ass?
He was probably staring because I looked so stupid and lame in that costume.
But there was nothing wrong with playing what-if, was there? He shifted on the couch, the leather squeaking. Hunter imagined Nick with other guys, and he was going to be full-on jerking off in a minute. If Nick was gay, did he have a boyfriend? Husband?
Would he go for a younger guy?
Hunter’s breath caught, and he shoved his hand into his track pants, gripping his cock as the floodgates opened and the fantasy took over. He imagined himself over Nick’s knee on that bench in the mall, getting spanked as he cried out, Nick totally in control, holding him down, not letting him wriggle, showing him how to do everything—
The engine of his mom’s Ford Focus rattled as she pulled into the driveway, the garage door vibrating as it rolled up. Hunter shot to his feet, turning in a circle before he sat back down, grabbed a throw cushion and plonked it on his lap, and picked up the game controller. He started playing, the sound of battle hopefully drowning out his panting.
“Hi, sweetie!” his mom called as she opened the door.
From where he was on the couch in the living room at the front of the house, he couldn’t see her yet in the foyer, but he could feel the blast of arctic air. “Hey!”
She stuck her head around the corner and pulled off her toque, a dusting of snow falling to the tiles. Her hair was blond like his, and it was coming out of the bun she wore for work. “Did you have a good day?”
“Uh-huh. I made dinner. It probably sucks.”
She pursed her lips. “I was just going to ask what that wonderful smell was. I’m sure it’ll be delicious, and thank you.” She took off her coat and boots, her purple scrubs wrinkled underneath. “I’m going to have a quick shower.” She glanced at the TV. “Are you winning?”
He’d just gotten seriously injured because he was paying more attention to his mercifully flagging boner, but Hunter nodded and gave her a smile before she disappeared down the hallway toward the bedrooms. Their single-level house had three bedrooms and two bathrooms, and a finished basement that was mostly used for storage now that Heather and Hunter had (mostly) moved out. There was a nice little yard out back with a corner vegetable garden in summer. It was home.
In the beige kitchen, the worn linoleum chilly under his bare feet, he stirred the chili in the slow cooker, inhaling the cumin and other spices. It wasn’t fancy, but it hit the spot. He turned on the oven to heat up the crusty bread. The kitchen wallpaper was a rooster design, and every time his mom watched HGTV, she talked about tearing out the old brown cupboards and doing a back-splash and new flooring and an island. But while she was lending Hunter money to make his monthly student loan payments, she couldn’t afford it.
His stomach tightened. He’d been so sure he’d be able to find some kind of job during the six-month grace period for loans after graduation. He’d worked serving tables all through university, but it had been too much with the long hours the internships had demanded and commuting to his sister’s condo in suburban Mississauga.
At least the companies had paid his transit expenses, which they’d made seem very generous. Hunter was willing to pay his dues, but at a certain point he needed actual freaking money.
“I can hear you worrying from down the hall,” his mom said as she entered the kitchen, her slippers flapping on the tile. Her flannel PJs were covered in sleeping cats, and her wet hair hung over her shoulders. She kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, be happy.”
“Are you going to start whistling that song?”
She twisted the top off a bottle of red and pulled down two glasses. “Probably.” She handed him a glass. “Vino for your thoughts.”
He took it and sipped the oaky, spicy wine. “The usual. That I can’t get a real job, and I’m going to end up living in your basement until you kick me out.”
“Good thing I’d never kick you out.” She winked, the lines around her eyes crinkling as she smiled. She was fifty now but still super pretty. Hunter’s father was a douchebag and moron for leaving her since she was the best. Hunter had been a baby when his father took off, but they’d been well rid of him. She’d dated a bit over the years but said she was single and happy now.
Still, Hunter couldn’t help but feel guilty that both he and his older sister had moved out. Was his mom lonely here on her own? She never complained about it, but then again, she’d never let him hear her complain about anything that mattered.
“And your sister won’t kick you out either, for the record.”
He sighed. “I know, but… It’s bad enough I’ve been freeloading off Heather since I graduated. She and Rick have been amazing, but they have the baby now. She doesn’t want her little brother taking up the room that’s supposed to be the baby’s. It’s not fair that they have to have the crib and everything in their room. I can’t go back in the new year. I need to find another place. Give up on landing a real job and go back to waiting tables. I made good money.”
“Mmm.” She sipped her wine, leaning back against the counter. “You talk a lot about getting a ‘real’ job. Is being a server not a real job?”
“No, of course it is. I just mean, like…” He rubbed his face. “After university, you’re supposed to get, like, a grown-up job. A career.”
“And you want your career to be in marketing and communications?”
He shrugged. “I have an English degree, and I can write. I don’
t want to go to teacher’s college because the only reason I’d want to teach is to get summers off, and that’s a shitty reason. So if I want to work in business, communications makes sense.”
“But do you want to work in business?”
He shrugged again. “I want to make a decent salary one day. It doesn’t feel like there are a lot of options. I don’t love working in an office, but most people don’t, right?”
She sipped her wine and took bowls from the creaky cabinet. “Do you have to work in an office to have a ‘real’ job?”
“Well, it depends. Obviously you work in the hospital, and that’s a real career. But what am I going to do with an English lit degree if I’m not working in some kind of office?”
“Do you have to do something with it? Is it not valuable in and of itself?”
Hunter stuck his hand in an oven mitt, flinching from the wave of heat as he took out the bread and dropped it on the cutting board. “You’re very philosophical tonight.”
“I am, aren’t I?” She laughed and pulled him into a hug. “Just give it some thought. You realize there are plenty of people older than you who are still living with their parents and have no idea what to do with their lives, right? It’s common these days.” She pulled back with a frown. “But you’re always so hard on yourself. And unpaid internships should be illegal.”
He shrugged. “They’re supposed to be, but the companies find loopholes. If you complain, you can guess who’s not getting a job there in the end.”
“It’s BS, is what it is. You’ve more than paid your dues. So don’t stress, honey. It’s the holidays. You’ll figure it all out.”
When? What if I don’t?
Hunter nodded and smiled, shoving away the worry. “You’re right.”
“Always.” She winked.
They ate in front of the TV as usual, watching a recording of whatever procedural had been on recently. As his mom fast-forwarded through commercials, she asked, “So what’s this job you lined up for tomorrow?”
Lust flamed through him thinking of his little fantasy earlier, and Hunter took a mouthful of chili and shrugged. But she paused the TV and waited for him to swallow. He cleared his throat. “I’m helping at a Christmas tree farm. The guy’s a friend of John’s? Nick Spini.”
Gay Romance Holiday Collection Page 21