Happy and Merry: An M/M Holiday Romance Collection

by CJane Elliott

  Once everyone had a glass of bubbly, they all raised a toast to life and victories, large and small.

  Michael came to Brad’s side and put his arms around him. “Love you, husband.”

  “Love you too, husband.”

  “Are you ready for the Blair family Christmas?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Aww, honey.”

  They kissed.

  “Even if you are treating me as a lust object with your Christmas insta-love.”

  Michael threw his head back and laughed, a loud, joyous sound.

  And Brad smiled in return.

  Pattern for an Angel

  by

  CJane Elliott

  Chapter 1

  Gabe peeked in the door of Ian’s kindergarten room. Good. Ms. Bailey was still there. Two kids leaned on her ample body, and she had her arm wrapped around a third as she talked to another parent. Ian dropped Gabe’s hand and ran to join the lovefest. It put a smile on Gabe’s face. Ms. Bailey’s warmth had provided a safe harbor for Ian this year after the rest of his world had changed so much.

  Gabe ventured in. He liked Ian’s classroom. Colorful finger paintings lined the wall, a corner held a few cushions and a heap of picture books, and the class’s guinea pig squeaked and rustled in its roomy cage. Thanksgiving turkeys made from the outlines of the kids’ fingers were on the table. Homey and welcoming, like a bright oasis, and Ian was thriving here. Gabe had been happy to find a good school for Ian right in the middle of Portland, and close to his work and their apartment. So Gabe hoped the request for Ian to wear an angel dress wouldn’t pose a problem.

  “My dad’s here,” Ian announced proudly as Gabe approached. It always gave Gabe a secret thrill when Ian called him “Dad.”

  Ms. Bailey finished her conversation with Jonny’s mom and turned to Gabe with a smile. “How are you, Gabe?”

  “I’m good. You?”

  “Excellent. You all ready for Thanksgiving tomorrow?”

  “Yes. My sister Nita’s cooking, which is good. Um, I have something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  His expression must have said “help,” because Ms. Bailey murmured to the children clinging to her, “Excuse me, kids, I need to speak to Mr. Martin for a minute.” They went to play, Ian going with them. “What’s up? Everything okay at home?”

  “Yes.” Gabe didn’t know how much Ms. Bailey had surmised about Ian’s living situation, but he was content for people to assume he was a single dad. Which he was. That he wasn’t Ian’s biological father didn’t matter as far as he was concerned. That he was only twenty-five and raising his adopted son on his own, with help from his sister Nita, was his business. “I got your note about the Christmas pageant.”

  “Oh, good. The kids are very excited about it.”

  “And I see that Ian is supposed to be a shepherd.”

  “Yes.”

  “The only problem is he wants to be an angel because, he says, angels have the nicest costumes.” Gabe cleared his throat. “Dresses, that is,” he added, in case it wasn’t clear.

  “Oh. He didn’t tell me that.”

  “Do you have any other boys who are going to be angels?”

  “No. By this age, kids pretty much view angels as female, so the boys don’t ask to be one.”

  “He may have been embarrassed. The thing is, Ian likes to wear dresses more than he likes to wear boy clothes. I let him wear them at home but so far I haven’t let him do it in public because I don’t want him to be teased.”

  “Yes. I see.” Ms. Bailey nodded thoughtfully.

  “Have you… has there ever been something like this, a boy wearing dresses, in your class before?”

  “No.”

  Great. Leave it to Ian to be a gender pioneer.

  “We did have a boy who wore fingernail polish, though,” Ms. Bailey continued. “It provided some teachable moments when other kids, mostly the boys, wanted to tease him. I talked to them about freedom of expression and not picking on people because they looked different. That kind of thing.”

  “Yeah. I’m not sure if Ian is identifying as a girl. He hasn’t said anything to me about that. Maybe he just likes wearing pretty stuff. It’s all okay with me, and I don’t want to squash him. You know?”

  “Yes. I believe in honoring the kid’s choices in that regard. So I’m fine with Ian wearing what he wants to wear, and I will make sure the other students respect that.”

  Gabe overflowed with so much gratitude, he wanted to kiss Ms. Bailey. Or marry her. But he wasn’t sure Ms. Bailey was into men anyway. “Cool.”

  “How about we start with the angel costume? Hold on, I’ll get you the pattern.”

  Pattern? Gabe’s perplexity wasn’t lessened when Ms. Bailey came back and handed him a big square envelope with a picture of a little girl in an angel dress on the front.

  “Um, what’s this?”

  “It’s the pattern. You know, to sew the dress.”

  “Sew.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know how to sew.”

  Ms. Bailey seemed unruffled. “Oh, this is quite a simple pattern. Most of the parents are having no problems with it.”

  What the hell?

  Ian ran over and tugged on Gabe’s hand to see what he held. “Let me see, Daddy.” He gasped. “My angel dress! I get to be an angel!” He jumped all around, then hugged Ms. Bailey.

  She chuckled. “Yes, Ian.” Then she sobered and asked Gabe, “Shall I find someone to help you with sewing?”

  “No, I’ll be fine.” Gabe only had a moment to ponder why he’d lied before he felt Ian’s hand slip into his.

  “My dad’s good with everything. He’ll sew my dress in two shakes.”

  This kid. Gabe didn’t know where Ian got the “two shakes” from, but he’d been saying it a lot lately.

  “Right, kiddo. Two shakes, for sure. Thank you, Ms. Bailey.”

  “Call me Natalie.” She turned a mock stern eye to Ian. “Ms. Bailey to you.”

  “Bye, Ms. Bailey,” Ian said, then giggled.

  “Good luck,” Gabe heard Ms. Bailey call as he and Ian left.

  Gabe was afraid he’d need more than luck. Now he’d need to learn to sew. How hard could it be? He’d ask Nita. She’d know what to do.

  Chapter 2

  “What do you think of this material?”

  Loren eyed the bolt of sorry-looking paisley print. Why his sister Mia even had it in her sewing shop was a question. “For what again? Sofa cushions?”

  The woman stiffened. “No. For a dress.”

  “Oh. It’s fine if you like it. But….” He swept an assessing gaze over her. She dressed dowdily, but then many people did in this granola-ish city. Her arresting blue eyes and coloring whispered she was once a true blond. She deserved better than this paisley fiasco. “I think you’d look wonderful in this.”

  He reached for the bolt of one of his favorite fabrics in Mia’s store. Purples and blues swirled together subtly to suggest a Monet garden. Loren loved it.

  She regarded it doubtfully as Loren held it out to her. “Hmm.”

  “Isn’t it beautiful? I’ve been bugging Mia to sew me something from this. I think it would set off your nice blue eyes so well.”

  Her cheeks pinked, and she smoothed her hand over the material. “It’s very pretty.” Then she pulled her hand back. “But I think I’ll take the other.”

  “Of course.”

  Oh well, you win some, you lose some, Loren thought after he rang up her purchase. As he was replacing the purple-blue material on the shelf, the bell to the shop door tinkled. The store had been crazy busy, which was to be expected for the Friday after Thanksgiving. He turned. Now there’s someone I’d love to win.

  The guy coming in the door was seriously hot—dark and lanky with a mouth made for kissing. He was being steered along by a gal, but they were enough alike to be siblings. Loren hoped. His mouth twitched at the expression on the guy’s face and his wide
eyes. Safe to assume he’d never been in a sewing shop before.

  Loren stepped out from behind the counter and remembered that he was wearing one of his favorite skirts when the guy’s gaze dropped. He braced himself for some negative reaction and was floored when the guy smiled happily and nudged his companion. She brightened.

  “Oh, you’re perfect,” she exclaimed.

  “I am? I mean, of course I am, but why?”

  “We’re looking for a way to sew an angel dress for a little boy.”

  “Aww. That’s wonderful.” Loren waited for Hot Guy to say something, but his smile was more than enough. “Do you have the pattern?”

  “Oh. Yeah.” Hot Guy had a deep voice. Lovely. He got the pattern out of his bag and handed it over.

  “Hmm. Yes.” Loren inspected it and nodded sagely. “This seems straightforward enough.”

  “It does?” Hot Guy was even hotter with that hopeful expression.

  The truth was, Loren was talking out of his ass. Mia was the expert, and this was her store. Loren enjoyed being around the fabrics and different materials, the buttons and the lace, because he loved playing dress up. But you could put what he knew about sewing into one thimble. However, Hot Guy and his girlfriend/partner/sister didn’t need to know that.

  “The problem is,” the gal said, “neither of us know fuck-all about sewing. I still can’t believe Ian’s kindergarten expects the parents to sew these costumes. I mean, are we in the 1950s or what?”

  “So this is for your little brother?” Loren asked.

  “My son,” the guy said.

  Huh. He didn’t look old enough to have a kindergarten-aged child. Bummer that Hot Guy was apparently married or whatever. But that was the story of Loren’s life.

  Then the gal piped up. “Gabe adopted him last year. He’s a great kid.”

  Sounded like they weren’t together if only Gabe adopted this kid. “Great. So you’re Gabe, and you’re…?”

  “Nita. We’re sister and brother. Gabe’s a single dad.” Nita cut a significant glance at Gabe, who frowned back. Loren could relate. Sisters always loved to meddle in their siblings’ love lives.

  “Hi, Gabe and Nita. I’m Loren. I’m sure we can help you figure out the sewing part. Let’s start with material.” Loren’s favorite. White satin was way more fun than drab paisley.

  Ten minutes later, after a delicious wallow in all the permutations of white satin, they had the fabric. Gabe hadn’t offered many opinions about which material but had seemed amused by Loren’s and Nita’s many exclamations.

  But when Loren confronted the rest of the pattern instructions, his head spun. Mia was usually here and helped folks with deciphering the patterns. Loren could only guess what some of it meant but did his best to pick out thread and other needed parts and assembled them on the counter.

  “Well. This is everything.” Loren hoped. He started to ring up the items.

  “Everything but a sewing machine. What do we do about that?” Nita asked.

  “You can rent them. This seems a simple enough pattern.” Panic rose in their faces, and Loren quickly added, “Or, better yet, you can hire someone to sew the costume.”

  “Could you?” Gabe asked, shooting a sudden intense glance in his direction.

  Damn. Of course he could not. But something made Loren say, “Why, I’d love to! You’ll need to bring Ian over to the shop so I can measure him for the costume. I mean, if that’s okay.”

  “Thanks. Yeah, I can bring him tomorrow. Wait. Let me check. I need to go into work for a while.” Gabe got out his phone.

  “Gabe’s a hospice nurse,” Nita offered.

  “Wow. Really? How sad. Um, I mean noble. How noble.”

  Gabe took his eyes off his phone and smiled at him. Be still, my beating heart! The man could melt the bricks off a building with those eyes. “I like it. It’s sad of course, especially during the holidays. But it’s such a service to these patients and families.”

  Oh please. Marry me and have my babies. Loren cleared his throat. “I salute you.” On impulse, he shoved the bag over. “Here. On us.”

  “Oh no. That’s okay.” Gabe and Nita appeared confused by Loren’s sudden gesture. “That’s too much.”

  Of course it was too much. Loren was forever confusing people with his random acts of kindness. “All right. I’ll let you pay. But we’ll give you a discount on the sewing.” We better. Given I don’t know a thing about it. “What time tomorrow will work for you?”

  “I can be here with Ian around four.” Gabe took the receipt.

  “How about I keep this stuff here for tomorrow?” Loren held up the bag.

  “Okay.” Gabe paused. “Uh, could I ask you a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  Now Gabe’s face was an intriguing shade of red. “I don’t know if you always dress in skirts or… or more feminine-type clothes, but….” He cleared his throat. “I think it would mean a lot to Ian to see a man… or a person… sorry for assuming, but—”

  “I’m a person,” Loren interjected helpfully. “A he-and-him person who enjoys femininity. And I like dressing up.”

  “Okay. For Ian to see a person such as yourself dress the way he likes to dress.”

  “Ian likes feminine clothes?”

  “Yes. It’s all he wears at home. Pink, purple, sparkly are his favorites. And why I got permission for him to be an angel instead of a shepherd.”

  Could this guy be any more perfect? “Of course. I’ll wear my prettiest outfit for him. See you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.” Gabe turned abruptly, but Nita looked over her shoulder as they were leaving.

  “Bye, Loren. Thanks so much.” There was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes that matched the sparkle in Loren’s heart.

  Life was getting interesting. Even if Loren had to learn to sew. By tomorrow. How hard could it be?

  Gabe blew an exasperated breath in Nita’s direction as they strolled down the city street, dodging the holiday shoppers who crowded the sidewalk. “Stop it.”

  “What?” She widened her eyes in an unsuccessful show of innocence.

  “You know what. Matching me up with that sewing guy. Person. Whatever.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure he doesn’t mind being called guy. And I’m not. Well, only a little. He’s so cute. And he was checking you out and liking what he saw.”

  “Hmm.” Gabe wasn’t so sure of that.

  The guy—Loren—was cute. Undeniably so. He had blond hair cut in an unusual way, bangs and longer hair in the front that framed his face, shorter in the back. Gabe didn’t know how to describe it, but it fitted Loren’s personality. All sprightly or something. And his face was cute, too, especially his blue eyes. Then there was his short skirt over some dark leggings. He had nice legs and looked fantastic in a skirt.

  But Gabe wasn’t ready to start dating, much less get involved with someone, no matter how cute. His priority was Ian, and he didn’t want to make things more complicated for him.

  “Ian’s gonna flip when he sees him—you know, in a dress or whatever.” Nita sidestepped a busker playing guitar on the sidewalk, his dog settled next to him. They seemed heedless of the soft rain that had started to fall.

  Gabe stopped and dug a five-dollar bill out of his pocket while Nita pulled her hood over her hair.

  “I hope so,” Gabe said as he dropped the money into the busker’s guitar case. The busker nodded his thanks, and Gabe nodded back.

  “I want Ian to not feel like he’s weird just because he likes dresses,” he added as they continued on.

  “Yeah. You’re a good dad, Gabe.” She tugged his arm in front of Powell’s City of Books. “Let’s go in here. If I don’t get Mom something for Christmas, she’ll be all over my case.”

  Gabe ignored the twinge that always happened when Mom was mentioned. “Knock yourself out. I’ll get some books for Ian, given he’s not getting anything from her.”

  “Sometimes I hate her,” Nita muttered as they entered the huge b
ookstore. “I wish I could cut her off like you have.”

  “You do what you need to do. I know you’re in our corner.”

  She hugged him. “Okay. I’m off to get her crappy ‘inspirational’ books.”

  “Have fun.”

  Nita headed for the religious fiction and Gabe for the children’s section. A poster on the wall stopped him in his tracks. The colorful headline blared Drag Queen Story Hour and graced a picture of two beautiful drag queens reading books to a crowd of small children. Wow. That would be a perfect thing to bring Ian to.

  He did a double take and peered closer. He could swear one of the queens was Loren.

  Chapter 3

  “Mia, please. Just give me a few pointers. What am I doing? Where am I standing? What should I have in my hand? I have to look like I know what I’m doing.” Loren cast an anxious eye on the clock in the back room of the sewing shop. Several sewing machines gleamed mockingly, and a tailor’s dummy seemed to sneer at him. Oh goddess, why had he ever agreed to this? Gabe and his son were getting there in twenty minutes.

  Mia was calm as ever as she took a plastic bin off a shelf. “Why are you even trying to act like you can sew?”

  “I can sew. I hem up my costumes and stuff.”

  “Right.” She put the bin on a table heaped with material. “Let me see the pattern.” Loren handed it over and she peered at it. “Well, this is so simple even you might be able to do it.”

  “Really? Thank goddess. But, like, what do I do today? I’m not going to sew in front of them, given I don’t even know how to start the machine. But I could measure the kid and cut the fabric. Right?”

  She swiped at the hair hanging in her eyes and sighed. “What’s gotten you so worked up? This guy must be something special.”

  “Oh, he’s gorgeous. And a hospice nurse. And a single dad. I mean, how much of a good person can you be?”

  Mia glanced out at the shop, keeping her eye on the couple of customers who were browsing through material. “Yes, but how do you know he’s gay? Or bi or poly?”

  “My gaydar went ting, ting, ting?”