“I know, right.” At least Blaine’s self-satisfied smirk hadn’t changed. “She said yes.”
Amanda beamed even brighter at Blaine’s comment. “You should have seen how nervous he was during the proposal.” She finally pulled her hand away from Nick to admire her new engagement ring. “He’s such a romantic.”
Nick bit back his comment. Blaine? Romantic? What the hell? He settled for voicing a simple, but heartfelt in its confusion, question. “Congratulations, I guess. When did this happen?”
“Blaine will tell you.” Amanda waved her rock in the air. “I need to drop my stuff in my locker before I clock in.” Her boot heels tapped a cheerful, if slushy, path to the back of the store.
At least she’d be the one mopping up the mess. Manspeak translated her last sentence into Blaine and Nick standing in silence, while Blaine crossed his arms over his chest and looked… well, terrified was the word that first came to Nick’s mind.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked.
Blaine shrugged.
“Good.” Nick nodded. “I’m glad.”
The explanation over, Blaine wandered over to the bagel display. Nick swallowed down the bitter taste of envy and scanned the next three not-so-patiently-waiting customers.
How was this his life? Amanda and Blaine were engaged. Which meant parties, and a wedding, and Nick wouldn’t even be able to ask Aaron to be his platonic, want-to-eat-free-food-and-get-drunk date. What were his options? Hang at the store for two hours every morning waiting for Aaron to figure the coast was clear and slink back in? Did he even want that if Aaron didn’t have the guts to come in and face Nick, or at least tell him whatever he did wrong….
“You think you’d like to switch shifts permanently?”
Nick came around the counter, joining Blaine at the microwave. They stared at the plastic-wrapped item turning slow circles behind the glass. “You serious?” he blurted.
Blaine opened the door at the ding, unwrapped, and took a bite off the breakfast burrito he’d nabbed instead of a bagel before he answered. “Yeah. Amanda likes having me around in the mornings.”
Excitement bubbled up through Nick so fast it left him dizzy. He could keep seeing Aaron. He’d get a chance to figure this out. Those were his first, all-consuming thoughts. Then reason kicked in, helped along by Nick’s thumbnail biting into his palm. Assuming Aaron ever returned to the store.
Did he want to work this shift until he graduated? Nick tugged at the end of the red ribbon Amanda had tied into a bow on the microwave handle until the entire length came loose in his hand.
He twisted it through his fingers while he considered Blaine’s offer. This shift was busier—he hadn’t read a tabloid in days—and the opportunities for homework were less.
There were some advantages too, like Darla’s hug, and the bad jokes the snowplow brothers loved to tell. “Maybe,” he answered. “I’ll have to think about it.”
Blaine nodded and took another bite of his breakfast. “Cool. Let me know,” he said before he headed off toward the donuts.
The awful ho ho ho of the door had Nick swinging around, and the world slowed. Exactly like that stupid movie his little sister made him watch. Nick turned and Aaron rushed in, his tie crooked and Nick’s favorite navy cardigan hanging off one broad shoulder. God, he would miss those sweaters.
“Nick.” Relief colored Aaron’s voice. “You’re still here.”
Nick fiercely stomped the soft, squishy concern Aaron’s disarray inspired into a squashed pile of nothingness, and drew on his coolest demeanor. “Hey, Aaron. I didn’t expect to see you again.” He thrust his hands behind his back, clutching tight to the ribbon to quell his desire to touch.
“I’m sorry, and I want to explain.” Aaron’s brilliant blue eyes met Nick’s with solemn intent. “If you make me one last gift, first?”
Of course. What else might he be there for? Despite the bitter shards left of his heart, Nick couldn’t walk away from his hunk in need. Damn those pleading eyes. “Who’s it for this time?” he asked, keeping his voice low in an effort not to reveal his hurt.
“It’s for this guy I’m crazy about.”
Aaron wrapped a large hand over Nick’s upper left arm as if to keep him from storming off, seemingly unaware Nick’s feet were nailed to the floor with the weight of his sinking dreams.
“He’s cute and sassy. Smarter than anyone else I’ve ever met, and he works so hard at everything in his life.” Aaron’s words rushed out, faster now that he started. “The gift needs to be special. Something that will convince him to give me a chance. Maybe even go on a date with me.”
Nick trembled, all too aware of the warm clasp on his bicep. Aaron wasn’t this cruel. He’d bet his degree on it. Did that mean—?
“Aaron?” he asked with a plaintive note in his voice he’d deny to his dying day. Which the way things were going, might be today.
“I’ve missed a lot of opportunities, Nick. Too focused on my goals to notice what was right next to me.” Aaron stepped closer, both his warm, capable hands on Nick’s biceps, his earnest gaze fixed and unblinking behind his glasses. “I don’t want to miss you.”
“O-oh,” Nick stammered. He struggled to remember his anger and underlying hurt at Aaron’s unexpected ghosting him. But his traitorous mind blanked everything except the spicy scent of Aaron’s cologne and the warm closeness of his tall, firm body. He’d already had a tiny taste of what his days would be like without Aaron. If there was any chance at all here, he was going to grab it.
Aaron dropped his grasp to Nick’s waist and stepped closer until his chest brushed against Nick’s. “Is that an ‘Oh, Aaron, I’d be happy to help you’ or…?” His voice trailed off, and he waited.
The corners of Nick’s mouth quirked upward. God, Aaron could be a jerk, probably why he liked him so much. “Something special, you said?” He rested his hands on Aaron’s chest, the red ribbon still held fast.
“Absolutely,” Aaron breathed. “Nothing but the best.”
“I might have an idea.” Nick stretched up and draped the ribbon around Aaron’s neck. His stomach fluttered at his own boldness, but he forged ahead, urged on by the gentleness in Aaron’s expression.
Nick looped his fingers through the length of ribbon and stood on his tiptoes. He pulled Aaron’s forehead to his before feathering soft kisses on the corner of Aaron’s mouth. He lingered until Aaron gave a low huff of laughter and moved one hand to the back of Nick’s head and held him still.
Nick’s entire insides seemed to quiver and melt at Aaron’s firm hold. He exhaled a happy sigh and allowed their lips to touch with aching slowness. Logic dictated perfection an impossible state of being, but right then, Nick’s life came pretty darn close.
He nibbled on Aaron’s lip, teasing until those big hands pulled him even closer, deepening the kiss. Gooseflesh prickled across Nick’s arms, and the possibilities for entries in his spreadsheet on Aaron Hampton just became a whole lot more interesting.
Nick inched back, enough to catch a peek at Aaron’s dazed appearance, his lips slightly swollen and slick from their kiss. Aaron’s ears had flushed a deep pink, and the color crept down under the collar of his shirt. Definitely something Nick planned to investigate.
He dropped his feet back onto the floor and tied the ribbon around Aaron’s neck with a big bow. “What do you think?”
“Of the kiss?”
Nick’s hands landed on his hips. Oh God, he was channeling Amanda, now. Whatever. He’d go with it. “No,” he said with a deliberate pout. “Of my gift idea.”
Aaron smiled that same singularly sweet smile that had hooked Nick from the very start, and he adjusted the bow to one side. “Are you sure my guy will like it?”
Enough with playing games. It was time for Nick to go all out. “I’m pretty positive I’ll love it.” He held up a hand when Aaron surged forward again. “But first, we’re going to talk. You’re already late for work, so go ahead and call in. You’re buying me break
fast.”
Aaron’s nod of agreement came with satisfying eagerness, and Nick moved in for the kill. “Next, you’ll make up with your assistant. This is the last gift I come up with.”
Aaron’s chin tilted up in the stubborn manner Nick hoped to see a lot more of. Before Nick had a chance to drive his point home, Blaine wandered up from the back and elbowed Nick. “You know this loser?”
Nick glared. Ask his ma: he was a champion grudge holder. “Don’t you? He only comes in every day at 5:25. Not that you shared.”
“Hold on,” Blaine protested. “I’ve never seen this guy before.”
They both turned to Aaron, who ducked his head and stared at his feet. “About that.”
Nick and Blaine stood side by side, arms crossed, and Aaron rubbed his neck under the combined force of their frowns.
“I actually live on the other end of town.” He peered at Nick with a rueful smile. “I had a meeting over this way and stopped in for coffee.” He shrugged, those wonderfully broad shoulders snagging Nick’s attention for more than a second. “I wanted to ask you out, but never got up the guts. So, I kept coming back.”
Nick remembered their very first meeting. The way Aaron shook his hand and introduced himself and then appeared flustered. He opened his mouth and shut it again. How did he respond to that confession?
“You’ve been coming in every weekday morning for almost a month?” Blaine didn’t seem to share Nick’s dilemma. “For this guy?” He jerked his thumb in Nick’s direction.
“Yes.” Aaron straightened to his full height, shoulders broad and chest out, as if he were making a formal declaration. “When you told me you were switching shifts, I felt like I missed my shot.”
Blaine slapped Nick on the back. “What do you have to say about it?”
Nick stepped closer to Aaron’s side and snaked one arm around Aaron’s waist. He reached up and tugged at the bow to bring Aaron close enough to kiss, warming himself in the heat of those brilliant blue eyes. They had plenty to discuss, including prepping Aaron for meeting his father, but right now he only had only one thing to say. “Merry Christmas to me.”
CHRISSY MUNDER writes contemporary M/M romance filled with everyday men and extraordinary passion to transport readers into their personal world of love, laughter, and desire. She is an avid reader, a wanderer of Michigan’s wilderness, and, not in any particular order, a lover of lists, zombies, and bad sci-fi. She’s also perpetually behind on everything—except for feeding the cat.
There are those who might tell you she started writing LGBTQ romance as a way to justify her office supply addiction, but shhhhh! don’t listen to them.
After too many jobs in too many states, she’s eagerly awaiting a far-too-distant retirement and the chance to become a full-time Lake Michigan beachcomber. Until then, she’s excited to share her love of romance, laughter, and happy-ever-afters.
Chrissy loves to chat with her readers, so don’t be shy! Find, friend, or follow her at a variety of social media sites including:
Website: www.chrissymunder.com
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By Chrissy Munder
After the Storm
Better with Sprinkles
Business Before Pleasure
Drive Me Home
Fair Winds
The Last Gift
One Pulse (Dreamspinner Press)
The One That Counts
The Reason for the Season
Start From the Beginning
Wishing on a Blue Star (Dreamspinner Anthology)
Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Last Gift
© 2017 Chrissy Munder.
Cover Art
© 2017 Paul Richmond.
http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.
Digital ISBN: 978-1-64080-306-0
Published December 2017
v. 1.0
Printed in the United States of America
The Last Gift Page 5