Happy and Merry: An M/M Holiday Romance Collection

by CJane Elliott

  “Hmm. Also, remember you’re not ready to settle down with anyone right now, much less a guy and his kid. Right?” She put the bin under one arm and grabbed a pair of scissors with the other hand.

  Oh. Right. “Yeah. That’s true.”

  “You’re still getting over what happened with shithead, oh excuse me, I mean Stephen.” Mia said his name with a fierce scowl and a brandishing of the scissors. “Come on. I need to check on the customers.” She walked back into the main shop, Loren following.

  Mia was right. What was Loren thinking, getting all gaga over a man with a kid? He was far from being parent material. And after what Stephen did to him, even the idea of being with someone seriously made him slightly nauseated.

  The two women who had been looking at material started to leave. “Thanks for coming in,” Mia called.

  Loren joined Mia behind the register counter. “Oh well, I won’t hit on him. But he’s so lovely, I’m going to enjoy staring at him. And I can do something nice for him and his son. His kid likes dresses, did I tell you? What do you think of this outfit on me?” He revolved slowly so Mia could see all the details of his red jumper with the heart-shaped pockets and scalloped neckline. He had worn it over a green velveteen shirt for the full holiday effect.

  “Very nice. I love the striped stockings.” She pulled the bag with Gabe’s material out from under the register and handed it to Loren.

  “Aren’t they cute?” The bell to the shop rang and Loren clutched the bag so hard it crinkled. “Oh crap, it’s probably them, and you didn’t tell me what to do.”

  “Ask how long they want the gown to be and measure from his shoulder to there. Write it down. Act official. Even you can manage that much.”

  He grabbed a foam shoulder pad off the counter and bopped her one, and she laughed.

  “We get my angel dress today,” Ian announced happily as they approached the shop. “Yay!”

  Gabe smiled at Ian’s enthusiasm. “Not today. Loren has to measure you first. But soon.” He opened the door, and Ian ran in. “Slow down, kiddo.”

  Loren stood in the rear of the shop, a woman with his same hair color and features beside him. He stepped out from behind the counter with a big smile. “Hi there, Gabe. And this must be Ian.” Loren had kept his promise to wear feminine clothes. He glowed like a traffic light in a bright red-and-green outfit, and Ian made a beeline for him.

  “I love your dress,” Ian blurted, then stopped short.

  “Why, thank you.” Loren knelt down so he was Ian’s height. “Come on over. I don’t bite.”

  Ian went to him and asked, “Can I feel it?” He pointed to Loren’s green top.

  “Of course. That’s the best part, isn’t it? This material is called velveteen.”

  “Velvet… een,” Ian repeated, stroking Loren’s arm.

  “What do you think of my pockets?” Loren asked, holding out his skirt.

  “They’re hearts! Look, Daddy.”

  Gabe swallowed over an unexpected tightness in his throat. “Nice.”

  The woman smiled and walked over, letting Ian and Loren continue their bonding. “Hi, Gabe. I’m Mia, Loren’s sister.”

  “Hey, nice to meet you. You own the shop?”

  “I do.”

  “That’s great. How do you like being a shop owner?”

  “I pretty much love it except when I hate it.” She laughed.

  “Wow, I admire you. I don’t think I’d be up for owning a store.”

  “It’s a lot of work, but so far it’s doing okay. Loren tells me you work for hospice?”

  “Yes.”

  “Our mother had hospice before she passed. It was so helpful for all of us, my dad especially.”

  “I’m sorry about your mother. When did she die?”

  “Three years ago now. It’s still hard to believe sometimes that she isn’t going to come walking through the door.”

  Gabe nodded.

  “Dad! Can I get stockings like Loren’s?” Ian’s face glowed as brightly as Loren’s outfit.

  “I don’t see why not.” He and Mia strolled back to Ian and Loren, who were cozied up next to each other on a small sofa.

  Ian became serious, and he jumped up to come over to Gabe. “Dad,” he said in a loud whisper, audible to all.

  “Yes, Ian?” Gabe leaned closer.

  “I want to wear my dresses outside.”

  Gabe’s throat constricted even more. “Where outside?”

  “Anywhere. Like Loren does.”

  Gabe caught a glimpse of Loren behind Ian, wide-eyed, his hand to his mouth. But still glowing. Gabe didn’t want Ian to be laughed at. He wanted to protect him from any more shit in his life than he’d already suffered, but when he saw the hope in Ian’s face, he couldn’t say no. “Okay. But when I’m with you, or Nita, or Ms. Bailey.”

  Ian threw his arms around Gabe. “Thank you, Daddy!”

  Behind them, Loren rose to his feet. He looked a bit misty-eyed. “Well. That’s wonderful. Now how about we get started on that angel gown?”

  Thank goodness Mia was there. After that sweet display between Ian, who was the cutest kid Loren had ever seen, and Gabe, who was letting his kid be who he was, Loren’s insides were quivering like a jellyfish. No way was he going to be able to handle a tape measure.

  “So, first things first.” He thrust the tape gracelessly toward Mia. “Mia, would you do the honors?”

  Mia didn’t bat an eyelash. “I’d be happy to. Ian, come over here, and I’ll get some measurements.”

  Loren was so grateful for his sister. She always seemed to know when he was overwhelmed and needed her to step in and save the day.

  Sweet goddess, though, he had a reason to be verklempt. Gabe and Ian were adorable. Oh damn, there went Loren’s tear ducts. He wasn’t sure why he was so emotional, but he needed to pull himself together. Gabe was coming over to talk to him, which didn’t help Loren’s nerves.

  “Are you okay?” Gabe asked and continued to cement his status as the world’s perfect man by fishing a Kleenex out of his pocket and handing it to Loren.

  “I’m… thank you.” He wiped his eyes. “I’m just so moved by you and Ian. Ian is lucky to have you as a father, let me tell you.”

  “Really?” Gabe kept his dark eyes trained on Loren, his face so open, so… present.

  “Yes. Because you listen to Ian and you honor his wishes. I know it’s got to be scary to have a kid who wants to bend gender norms. But you’re handling it beautifully.”

  “I hope so. Ian’s been through a lot in his young life. I want to protect him, but I don’t want to squash his joy. You know?”

  “Yes, I do know.” Loren bit his lip. “I wish someone had understood me so well when I was a kid. I mean, Mom and Dad loved me—I knew that—but they told me to stop playing dress-up so much when I was around Ian’s age. I definitely got the message that liking to dress feminine was wrong.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So I went underground. I’d dress in my sister’s clothes and parade in front of the mirror when my parents weren’t home. Then later I found drag, and that outlet alone probably saved my life.” He stopped at the expression on Gabe’s face. “Oh no, I’m oversharing again.”

  “No, it’s fine. I want to hear.”

  “Let’s fast-forward. I now wear what I want out in public. But it wasn’t until the last five years that I just said fuck it and let my true self-expression run free.”

  Gabe’s gaze roamed over Loren and his outfit. “I like how you’re expressing yourself. It looks great on you.”

  Loren opened his mouth to say something flirty back but found himself speechless for once.

  “All done for now,” Mia called.

  Gabe went to the counter, where Mia stood laying out the material, pattern pieces, and scissors. Ian sat on the sofa studying the angel gown picture on the pattern envelope. “What do we do now?” Gabe asked, turning to Loren.

  “Umm, we cut out the material and sew it up.” The
re. That sounded legit.

  Ian jumped up and ran over. “Can we watch you sew?”

  Loren turned panicked eyes to Mia, who just looked at him. Apparently, this was one mess she wasn’t going to help him out of. “Uh… yes. Of course! But not today, I’m afraid. Now, when is your pageant again?”

  Gabe consulted his phone. “Tuesday the seventeenth of December. A little over two weeks from now.”

  Two weeks. Loren could learn to sew in two weeks. “Mia? When will the sewing machines be available?”

  “Whenever you need them.” She stared him down, probably mad he was continuing the charade.

  But it wasn’t a charade. Loren was bound and determined to learn to sew so he could make Ian’s costume in front of him and Gabe.

  “Wonderful.” He added days up swiftly in his head. Today was Saturday. Goddess willing, he could teach himself how to use a sewing machine in a week. “How about coming back next Saturday, and we’ll get it done then?”

  “Yay!” Ian for one was overjoyed.

  “Sounds good.” Gabe held out his phone. “Let’s exchange phone numbers.” Then he blushed. “I mean, just in case we need to cancel or something.”

  Ian huffed. “Dad. We’re not going to cancel.”

  “I’m sure you won’t.” Loren took his phone from underneath the cash register, put in the passcode, and handed it to Gabe. “Here you go.”

  Their fingers brushed. Loren shivered as the touch surged through his body like a promise, or a warning. He wasn’t sure what was happening anymore. If all it amounted to was helping out a darling boy and his darling dad during the holidays, it still was worth braving a whole new world—even one made of bobbins and thread.

  Chapter 4

  Ian picked his fanciest dress for his inaugural outfit to wear to kindergarten. It was pink and frilly. Gabe repressed the urge to advise Ian to tone it down, let the kids get used to him, maybe wear a plain dark skirt over leggings for his first time. He’d called Natalie Bailey a few days ago to warn her that Ian didn’t want to wait until the pageant to wear a dress, and she’d sent an email out to all the parents. Gabe wasn’t expecting that. Although embarrassed to have the spotlight focused on him and Ian, he was thankful there hadn’t been any backlash, at least none that Gabe was aware of.

  “Let’s go, Dad.” Ian grinned after prancing around the living room to show off his dress.

  Gabe felt like puking. “In a minute. Nita’s coming with us. She’ll be here soon.”

  The front door opened, and there Nita was. “Where’s my cutie-pie?” Ian ran over and she scooped him up. “Look at you. You’re wearing my favorite.” She set him down and raised her eyebrows at Gabe.

  “Go get your backpack,” Gabe told Ian.

  “Okay?” Nita mouthed as Ian ran to his room.

  Gabe managed a nod, and Nita patted his arm. “How’s business?” he asked her. Nita was a massage therapist in a thriving holistic care practice.

  “Excellent. Lots of stress this time of year.”

  “Um, yeah, tell me about it. I always forget how hard it is at hospice during the holidays. Until they’re here again.”

  “You need to get yourself a massage, brother dear. Jan will give you one. On me.”

  “Maybe one of these days.” He ignored the skeptical face Nita made.

  Ian ran back in with his pink backpack. “Ready!”

  Gabe said, “Remember what I told you. Ms. Bailey says it’s fine for you to wear dresses, and she’s told the kids so. But if you want to change to your other clothes, they’re in the backpack. Okay?”

  “Uh-huh. Wait until Sadie sees my dress. I bet she’ll want one too. No, she’ll want a purple one cuz purple’s her favorite color.”

  They drove into the school parking lot, and Gabe tried to find a spot close to the door. He’d been so focused on Ian’s kindergarten class that he’d forgotten the rest of the students and parents who hadn’t been briefed on Ian’s metamorphosis.

  “Fake it till you make it,” Nita murmured to him as he parked.

  “Right,” he muttered back. He turned to Ian and said in a bright, cheerful voice, “Okay. Ready to go, kiddo? Nita and I’ll walk you in.”

  “You don’t have to, Daddy.”

  “I know. But we want to.” He was about to remind Ian that he could only wear his dresses as long as he, Nita, or Ms. Bailey were there, but didn’t want to overdo the caution stuff. Especially as Ian appeared happy and supremely unconcerned.

  The walk from the parking lot into the building and down the hall to Ian’s classroom seemed interminable. Nita, bless her, chattered cheerfully with Ian while Gabe held his hand and met any stares with a lifted chin and a pleasant expression.

  Ian dropped Gabe’s hand as they entered the classroom and ran over to Sadie, his best friend in the class. “Look, Sadie!”

  She shrieked in excitement, and several other kids came over to inspect Ian’s dress.

  Ms. Bailey joined Gabe and Nita with a warm smile. “So far, so good,” she commented as they watched the kids surround Ian, most grinning.

  Gabe kept his eye on a couple of the boys who hadn’t approached Ian—bigger boys who seemed tougher. They said some things to each other and laughed, then started playing with trucks. He felt like going over to them and… and what? They were five-year-old kids. Get a grip.

  “Okay,” Nita said to him. “Time to go and let your boy do his thing.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Ms. Bailey assured them. “Ian’s always had a good sense of himself.”

  God, Gabe hoped so. “Thank you, Natalie. Call me if he needs me.”

  Gabe waved goodbye to Ian and followed Nita out of the classroom, feeling like he was being torn in half. A part of him wanted to stay there all day and dare anyone to be mean to his kid.

  “I’m all wrung out,” Nita said. “If it weren’t nine in the morning, I’d say let’s go get a drink.”

  “I’d say you’re on, but I have hospice patients to see.”

  “Yep. And I’ve got a ton of massages scheduled. When do you go back to watch Loren sew Ian’s angel gown?”

  “Saturday. And don’t start.” He waved a warning finger in her face.

  “Five more daaaays,” she trilled as they passed the principal’s office.

  Gabe scowled at her, but his insides gave an annoying flip.

  Chapter 5

  Loren cursed as his seam wavered like the devil sewing machine had a mind of its own. It had looked easy when he watched the sewing tutorial he found on YouTube. The perky blond had talked a mile a minute, but her sunny smile was reassuring. You, too, can learn to sew in no time and love it as much as I do! it seemed to say.

  He read the instruction manual for Mia’s machine, which the perky blond had advised he do, and he successfully figured out how to put the spool of thread on the top, fill the bobbin and stick it in the right place on the bottom, thread the needle, and put the fabric under the foot thingy. Ta-da!

  Now he was sewing. Kind of. Thank goodness he was practicing on scraps of fabric from the store, because he couldn’t seem to sew a straight seam to save his life, and here it was Thursday, and he only had two more days to turn into a dressmaker. He lifted his gaze from his wonky seam, automatically searching for Mia. She was in the front of the store somewhere, continuing in her intention not to rescue him. Some big sister she was. But Loren was secretly glad she wasn’t stepping in, despite his pouts when she was around to see. He was gaining a new life skill! He just needed to master it by Saturday.

  Back to practicing.

  The text came as Loren was pondering a YouTube tutorial on cutting out a pattern, after he finally could sew a more-or-less straight line.

  Hi. It’s Gabe. Are you around to talk?

  Oh no. He was cancelling. He’d figured out Loren knew zilch about sewing. He’d realized Loren was a fraud, a lonely jerk who hid behind a sparkly exterior and lied about his life skills. Loren stood and walked around the small storeroom, eyeing the phone li
ke it was a snake that could hurt him, trying to shake off his dark thoughts and reason with himself. Snap out of it. Those crappy thoughts were the snakes that hurt him, not the damn phone.

  “What’re you doing?” Mia stood in the doorway and pushed her hair back from her forehead.

  “Avoiding my phone.”

  “Why? Who are you hiding from now?”

  She knew him too well.

  “Gabe. He sent me a text saying he wanted to talk.”

  “Well, answer him, then.” She blew out an exasperated breath and went back into the store.

  “You are right, my loving sister,” he said to her retreating back and grabbed his phone.

  Gabe answered on the second ring. “Loren?”

  His low voice did things to Loren. “Hey, there. How are you? How’s Ian?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  The pain in Gabe’s voice caused Loren to sit down. “What’s going on? Are you okay? Is Ian hurt?”

  “I… can we meet in person? Nita’s with Ian. He’s okay. I mean, nobody’s hurt. Or, well, I don’t know, but I hope not. I really want to talk with you.”

  Loren’s head was spinning trying to keep up with Gabe’s disjointed monologue. “Sure. How about we meet in Powell’s at the coffee shop?”

  “Great.” Gabe sounded relieved. “I can be there in half an hour, if that’s okay.”

  “See you then.”

  Wow. Gabe wasn’t cancelling at all. He sounded upset, and Loren was the person he wanted to see to talk about it. Loren flushed with warmth. He was worthy after all.

  He really should continue on the pattern tutorial, but he felt too rattled to concentrate. Picking up the bag that contained his outfit and makeup for the drag show that night, Loren went into the front.

  The shop was cozy with Christmas lights and the fabric decorations Mia hauled out every December. Mia stood sorting out the thread display.

  “How’s Gabe?”

  “I don’t know. He seems upset about something and wants to talk to me about it. We’re meeting at Powell’s at five.”

  “Oh?” Mia lifted an eyebrow. “That’s interesting.”