Summary:
Thomas Vale is one of Hollywood’s most sought-after actors. He’s as humble as they come and adores his family. This Christmas he wants to give his dying grandfather the only thing he’s ever asked Thomas for: for Thomas to fall in love.
Noah Berry has worked for Thomas since before he was a household name. He doesn’t have a close-knit family, but he’s fine with the way things are as long as he has Thomas. After all, Noah has been secretly in love with the man for years.
Thomas gets the crazy idea to bring a fake boyfriend home, but Christmas approaches and nobody is worthy enough to fulfill the task. Noah steps in—if he can’t have Thomas in real life, he can pretend for a little while and make an old man happy.
Davidson King does the holiday!! YUMMILICIOUS!!!!
Fake boyfriends✅
Unspoken love✅
Friends to lovers✅
Holiday-loving family✅
Romance✅
Humor✅
Heart✅
You're the One ticks all my holiday romance boxes. Thomas and Noah's Christmas journey may not have the mystery, violence, and action that Davidson King often brings to the page but that doesn't make it any less brilliant. Personally, I think those missing elements speak volumes to the incredible talent the author has for storytelling.
Knowing King's penchant for giving her couples a HEA, I think we can all guess where the men's journey ends up but the road they travel getting there is so much fun, so full of holiday spirit, so many edge of your seat smiles that I won't spoil it for anyone. Just know that you won't be bored, you won't be Bah Humbugging, you'll be Santa HO! HO! HO-ing! many hours after the final page.
If you're a fan of Hallmark Christmassy romances, not only will you love You're the One but you'll be blown away because IMO, King's holiday fare is 200% better. Some may call it "holiday schmaltz" but I call it "holiday heart". Davidson King may regret having written such a holiday gem because I am already highly anticipating next year's holiday story.
RATING:
Summary:
Have you ever been to an office holiday party?
Well, Matthew Kaplan has been to plenty, and he’s not impressed. In fact, he hates attending the annual gathering at his office. This year, though, he’s trying to make partner in his small law firm and does his best to look like he’s enjoying himself, even though he knows the event is really a Christmas party with just the barest hint of a nod toward his own winter holiday, Hanukkah.
Ethan Becker works for a busy caterer, and although all the Christmas music at these holiday office parties used to make his head ache, he’s learned to tolerate it so he doesn’t lose his mind. Sometimes he even sings along. There aren’t enough toe-tapping Hanukkah songs for a party anyway, right?
Matthew is pleased to find latkes on the buffet and escapes the crowd to eat them peacefully in the kitchen, where Ethan recognizes his hunky one-night-stand immediately. Matthew remembers their night together fondly, but certainly hadn’t expected to run into the hottie with the sweet blue eyes again. When Ethan offers to make more latkes for Matthew another day, Matthew jumps to accept the invitation. But will their date be delicious or disastrous?
Summary:
Operation HEA #2
Teddy is ready to pop the question, but can he find the perfect movie-moment proposal for Harlow? And more importantly, will Low survive meeting the parents? Oh, the joy of Christmas.
A missed connecting flight, inappropriate winter attire, and a kitchen fire…it wouldn’t be Christmas without some complications, right?
I know Harlow is desperately trying to impress my family, but I’m a lot more concerned about coming up with a proposal worthy of his Hollywood dreams. That is if he doesn’t burn the house down first.
There’s nothing like the holidays with family. Fa la la la la….
***Operation Meet the Parents is a 25K word novella companion to the full-length novel, Operation Meet Cute. Don’t miss this warm and fuzzy, all-the-Christmas-feels, steamy story.
Summary:
So This is Christmas #1
So This is Christmas #1
Garrett Coleman spent most of his adolescence crushing on Finn Sweeney—until that Ultimate Dream Guy image got obliterated during senior year. Garrett’s since gone out of his way to avoid the sexy ginger, instead throwing his energy behind his dance career while supporting his mother through her cancer diagnosis.
Finn Sweeney used to think of Garrett as just his kid brother’s best friend, but after an intense exchange at a high school party, things got a little…weird. Despite that, when their two families decide to get together for the holidays for the first time in years, Finn can’t say no. But he’s fully prepared for this to be awkward as hell.
When Finn and Garrett lay eyes on each other for the first time in their adult lives, all bets are off. Finn is completely captivated by Garrett and getting to know the man he’s become is now his top priority. Playing catch-up with Finn makes Garrett truly see him beyond the childhood fantasy he’s held onto all these years. Finn is real and vulnerable…and hot as hell.
Garrett and Finn can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, so they decide to bury the hatchet between them for the remainder of the visit.
After all, it’s only a holiday fling.
Until it becomes something more.
Finn Sweeney used to think of Garrett as just his kid brother’s best friend, but after an intense exchange at a high school party, things got a little…weird. Despite that, when their two families decide to get together for the holidays for the first time in years, Finn can’t say no. But he’s fully prepared for this to be awkward as hell.
When Finn and Garrett lay eyes on each other for the first time in their adult lives, all bets are off. Finn is completely captivated by Garrett and getting to know the man he’s become is now his top priority. Playing catch-up with Finn makes Garrett truly see him beyond the childhood fantasy he’s held onto all these years. Finn is real and vulnerable…and hot as hell.
Garrett and Finn can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, so they decide to bury the hatchet between them for the remainder of the visit.
After all, it’s only a holiday fling.
Until it becomes something more.
Summary:
Derrek is dealing with the recent, unexpected death of his mother. He’s been alone for five year since his husband Will died, and he’s ready to find someone new and to start living again. Ryan lost his partner, David, in an auto accident, and is dating Alex, who doesn’t treat him right.
Derrek can’t figure out why Ryan won’t see what’s right in front of his face. Why does Ryan come to him to talk about all his hopes, dreams, and fears, then go home to Alex?
If Derrek can figure that out, they might just have a shot.
Part of the "A Holiday to Remember 2017 Series".
You're the One by Davidson King
CHAPTER ONE
Noah
“You need to calm down, Miss Thing.” I narrowed my gaze at the blond bombshell standing in front of me who thought she was getting in to see Thomas.
“He’s expecting me.” She tried to push past security, toward me, thinking we’d roll over because she was Chantel Morrison, a box-office draw.
“No…no, he is not. Shoo.” I made a sweeping motion with my fingers, and her ivory skin flushed red.
“Listen, you little gnat—”
“Nope.” I covered my ears. “Bye.” I spun on my heel and went into the room she was desperately trying to enter.
When I shut the door, Thomas was sitting on the couch, a small smile on his face as he looked at me. “She’s relentless.”
“Why, Thomas? Why did you have to take her to the Oscars with you? Now she thinks you’re going to have babies with her.” After locking the door, I went and sat beside him.
“I didn’t know she’d turn into a face-hugger, Noah. She was actually quite relaxed and calm at the show. Then the next day it was bam, let’s get married.”
Thomas Vale was everything in Hollywood, and I was his personal assistant. I’d been by his side since the days he could only get a minor role on a soap opera. When he skyrocketed to fame, he’d made sure I was holding on. We were friends…and I was madly in love with him. Not that he knew that—no, he could never. The trust Thomas had in me was worth never telling him that little fact.
“Might I suggest going solo to the next award show?”
He chuckled. “Noted.” His phone buzzed and he sighed.
“What’s wrong? Did she get your number? I will go out there right now and—”
“No, she didn’t, and if she had, I’d have blocked her. No reason to summon your inner Bruce Lee on my account.”
Yeah, I was only five foot seven, and the only exercise I got on the daily was swimming laps at night…well, when I could. Sure, a swift wind could blow me over. But I was spunky. I had defensive skills, thanks to many bullies while growing up.
“Fine. Explain the frown and sigh and dejected body language?” I eyed him, then his phone, which he was scowling hard at.
“Christmas is next month.”
“Oookaaay? I’ve never known you to be a scrooge, Thomas. You’re actually a festive fella.” I laughed when he rolled his eyes.
“I love Christmas. You know I always go home. Spend it with my family in the mountains. It’s the only time all of us are together for the year.”
“And, what, it was canceled?” Getting him to tell me things sometimes was like pulling teeth.
He turned his body slightly, folding his leg so he was now sitting on his foot, staring at me. “My grandfather—”
“Victor or—”
“William.”
“Okay, continue.”
“He’s dying.” Thomas’s shoulders slumped, and as if his pain were mine, I gasped.
“Thomas, why didn’t you tell me?” I knew his family as if they were my own. Sure, I’d never met them because Thomas barely even had time to see them himself. But I’d practically memorized everything about them. Birthdays, anniversaries, where they lived, the pets they owned…all of it.
“I was well aware you’d do this thing you’re doing right now, had I told you.” He waved a hand at me.
“I’m concerned; how is that a thing?” He shrugged. “Just is. You’re dramatic.”
“Says the actor,” I huffed.
“I know my grandfather is old…like really old. It was going to happen eventually.”
“Yes. Life is funny that way.” He slapped my leg. “What? I’m agreeing with you.”
“Anyway. Last Christmas, he knew he was sick. Lung cancer.”
“Seriously, Thomas, why did you never tell me any of this? You said your grandfather had the flu. I sent flowers from you saying get well soon…to him…and he had lung cancer.”
“I didn’t want anyone to know. I’m sorry.”
Here I was making him feel bad for not telling me when his grandfather was dying… I suck. “No, forget it. I’m a brat. Go on. I assume the cancer is back?”
He nodded. “Thing is, last year he and I were sitting outside, watching my nieces play in the snow. He took my hand, Noah, and pleaded with me that before he died, he wanted me to fall in love. Of course I swore to him I was fine, but as his dying wish…he made me promise to try and let someone in.”
My eyes widened. “He made you promise to fall in love with someone?”
“No. He just said it would be his dying wish. And I really thought he was going to be okay, and I’d have time but…” He sighed again.
“But time is running out.”
He nodded. “I wish I could give him that. Show him I have someone in my life to love and I’ll be fine.”
“Thomas, you can’t force yourself to love someone to appease a dying man’s last wish, even if it’s your grandfather. Don’t you think it would hurt him even more if he found out you were putting on a show on his account?”
Thomas’s eyes widened and a huge smile graced his handsome face. I knew that look. “Noah, you’re a genius.”
“Um, Thomas, whatever you’re thinking, no. It can’t be good.”
“Because I’m happy?”
“No. Because something you clearly heard made you grin like the Grinch, and nothing I said was a good idea.”
He tilted his head back and laughed so hard his body shook. Carefree Thomas was the best.
“Hear me out.” He giggled like a child, excited and quite animated.
“As if I have a choice.”
My sarcasm was completely lost on Thomas, or he was ignoring it. More likely it was the latter.
“The doctor gave him three months. If I can bring someone home for the holidays, and it’s massively convincing that we’re in love, it will make his final time peaceful.”
All I could do was stare at him, waiting for the “Just kidding.” It never came. Sweet Mother Mercy.
“Thomas, that’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
“I don’t think so. If I find the right person to—”
“Lie to? Thomas, you’re going to grab someone and be all, ‘Hey, I love you, meet my family?’ ”
Thomas huffed. “No, but I’m in an industry full of actors. I’m sure I could find someone willing to do this.”
I had to pinch the bridge of my nose to release the pressure. “And you don’t think, at the slightest convenience, they won’t sell this story to the tabloids? Thomas, why are you acting dumb? It’s not who you are. You’re above average in the smarts department.”
He snickered and sat back. “It has to be the right person. Someone trustworthy but who could pull it off. We can have them sign an NDA.”
“We…oh, I’m helping?”
“Who else would be able to find the perfect person for me other than the person who knows me best?” He beamed and fucking fluttered his eyelashes…the asshole.
“One day I will quit.”
He stood and went over to the vanity. He was about to go on The Tonight Show in fifteen minutes, right before Chantel Morrison, which explained why she was there.
“You’ll never leave me, Noah.”
He looked at me through the mirror and I pouted, knowing he was right. Was it just because I loved him? No, Thomas needed protecting, and I’d never let anything happen to him.
“Fine, let me see what my brain can come up with. Operation Fool Grandpa is in full effect.”
They knocked and told him it was time, and with one last titter, he left the dressing room. I sat on the couch for a few moments wondering how in the hell I’d help him pull this off.
A Whole Latke Love by Jodi Payne
Another December, another office holiday party, and another opportunity for Jenny Lambert to get drunk and dance on the reception desk.
Yay.
Matt was glad she at least had pants on this year. Last year Jenny had worn this amazing skirt and half the guys in the office had instantly turned into gawking, horny teenagers. Someone must have warned her.
That said, though, wouldn’t it be nice if someone he could get into hopped up there and started working it a little? Maybe Nick or... ooh, William. William would look great up there. Then Matt could turn into a horny teenager for once. That would make this party way more fun. More interesting too.
Great, now he was thinking like a pig. That didn’t make this party any better.
He fought the urge to just leave now, reminding himself that he attended this ridiculous party because he was trying to make partner and, following the laws of office politics, he had to at least show his face until people were drunk enough not to miss him when he left. On the bright side, the food was usually pretty good.
For the record, and just to add to his cynicism, it wasn’t really a “holiday” party. It was a Christmas party and everyone knew it. There was a big, Christmas tree lit up in the corner for one thing, and tons of red and white poinsettias were scattered around the big reception area that was currently being used as a dance floor. There were fake evergreens running across the top of every doorway and a giant wreath hung over the reception desk. There were silver bells over the elevator doors for crying out loud. Nothing actually said “Merry Christmas,” but the halls were definitely decked.
Oh, and the DJ was playing “All I Want for Christmas is You” for Drunken Jenny Lambert to dance to.
Christmas.
Yes, there was a little table-top sized electric menorah on the other side of the room, but Hanukkah didn’t start until December twenty-second this year and someone had lit all the little orange, flickery candles anyway. He tried to appreciate the gesture, but really it just pissed him off. When he made partner, he’d make sure it was done right.
Matt watched Jenny dance and tried to pretend like she was William, but it was useless. He looked at his watch, wondering again if he could casually walk by, pretend he was going to the restroom, and just get on the elevator instead and go home. Everyone was focused on the reception desk after all.
“Do you think she is going to remember this in the morning this year?”
“Last year there was pictorial evidence.” He grinned at Nick. “Didn’t you provide them?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Matt. They just appeared in the lunchroom.” Nick held up a glass. “You need to look less bored. Get a drink.”
“I have a drink.”
“Matthew Kaplan.” Nick shook his head. “That is a Diet Coke, not a drink.”
“You know I never drink at these things, Nick.”
“Why not? Are you afraid you’ll end up on the desk with Jenny?”
“Not really,” he lied. It was a definite possibility. “Anyway, it looks like Greg beat me to it.” He pointed, and he and Nick laughed as the managing partner did the shimmy with Jenny.
“We should get her a Lyft.”
Nick snorted. “Matt, my friend, you are boring. Stay here. I’m getting you a drink.” Nick took off for the board room, where they’d set up the bar, and Matt decided not to be standing here when Nick got back. He didn’t need alcohol to make this event even worse than it already was. He headed past the makeshift dance floor and the scent of holiday dinner drifted over him.
Oh, yum. He could eat.
He followed his nose into one of the conference rooms where a dinner buffet had been set up. He had to admit it smelled damn good in here and the food looked great. People were still busy dancing, so it hadn’t been picked over yet, either.
He grabbed a plate and started grazing. A fancy little lamb chop, a skewer of veggies, a bite of salmon and… oh. Hold up. Were those latkes?
Latkes. At a work party. Wow. He thought maybe he might kiss the office manager.
He was skeptical, though, because everyone, including him, liked their latkes the way their mom had always made them. But his mother grated the potatoes and made them crispy and that’s how these were done, so he held out hope. In a show of faith, Matt scooped two onto his plate, put a dollop of apple sauce beside them, grabbed a neatly wrapped silverware package and went looking for a place to eat.
The dance floor had emptied out while he was serving himself, and now there was no room in the other conference room where they’d set up the round dining tables. So, Matt ended up in the kitchen. Eating there was a better choice than letting anyone—like Nick, Heaven forbid—find him being anti-social and eating in his office. But with the caterers off doing whatever caterers do, the kitchen was quiet at the moment, and the perfect place to hide for a few minutes of peace.
He set his plate down at the far end of the counter so he’d be out of the way in case they came back any time soon, then cut a big bite of latke, scooped up some apple sauce with it, and put it in his mouth.
His eyes closed as he chewed. “Oh, yum. Mm-mm-mm.” Crunchy, a little garlicky, fried just right. He took another bite. “Oh man.”
“Everything okay, sir?”
Startled, he turned abruptly with his mouth still full and looked right into a pair of sweet blue eyes.
Sweet and familiar blue eyes.
He quickly finished chewing. “Ethan?”
“Matt? Oh my God!”
Oh shit.
“Is this where you work?” Ethan’s bright eyes got all crinkly with a big grin.
“Yeah…” He put his fork down slowly.
Ethan hovered a little, evidently feeling as awkward as Matt did about whether they should hug or shake hands. What was the etiquette for running into a one-night stand?
A really, really hot one-night stand.
At work.
He went for the handshake but Ethan pulled him in for a cheek kiss. His next breath was tinged with Ethan’s lovely, musky scent. It was strangely comforting, and felt a little like coming home to baking bread.
Oh. Damn. He blinked a couple of times as the more coherent moments of their night together came back to him and the year’s most boring party took an intriguing turn. Still, he looked around, making sure nobody saw that less than innocent display of affection. “I… uh. I’m at work, so...”
“Oh! Oh, sorry. Sorry. Right.” Ethan jumped back like Matt had snarled at him, then looked around the kitchen, inventing something that needed doing. “Stupid. Sorry.”
“No, it’s all good. No problem. I just...” He watched Ethan’s busy, nervous hands putting little bite-sized desserts onto a silver tray. “It’s cool.” Matt leaned against the counter, hoping to make this awkward moment something more relaxed and engaging. “So... you’re a caterer?”
“Uh-huh.” Ethan didn’t look at him, just waved a tiny lemon square in the air.
“Right. I mean, obviously you are.” He looked around for inspiration for the conversation and his eyes fell on his latkes. “I have to tell you, it’s so nice to have something from my own tradition on the buffet for once, you know? And these are really good. They taste a lot like my mom’s.”
Ethan glanced over at his plate. “Oh, the latkes? They’re good, right?”
“Yeah. So yummy. Hey, so you made them? I’m so impressed.” To make his point he took another couple of bites.
Ethan nodded, smiling, and glanced briefly in his direction. “Thank you.”
“I had no idea you could cook.” He took a couple of casual steps closer to Ethan. It was a Friday night and he was glad he’d come to the party after all. He had an agenda now.
“Well. To be fair, we…” Ethan laughed lightly, blue eyes lifting to meet his. “We haven’t spent much time talking.”
Matt laughed too. “True.” He found he was more interested this time though, both in talking and in Ethan. He could sense Ethan starting to relax, the nervous tension was steadily being replaced by the electricity building between them. “This seems like a pretty cool gig. Do you do a lot of private parties?”
“Yeah. We’re actually party planners so we specialize in corporate functions and we do other events like bridal showers, weddings, sweet sixteens, that kind of thing. We hire the waitstaff and the bartenders, and we can hook people up with DJs and MCs if they want. The whole thing.”
Operation Meet the Parents by KM Neuhold
Chapter One
HARLOW
There’s nothing quite like the smell of white-chocolate peppermint mocha in the air to really make it feel like Christmas. Of course it’s sunny and seventy degrees out today, which doesn’t bother me since I’m from Georgia, but my boyfriend won’t stop bitching about the lack of snow. After living in LA for seven years, you’d think the man would make peace with the weather already.
He won’t be complaining much longer because, by the end of the day, we’ll be ballsack deep in a snowbank and, honestly, I’m trying really hard not to think about that part. I have plenty to worry about meeting his family for the first time without also fixating on exactly what it might feel like to die of frostbite or why anyone in their right mind would choose to live somewhere that is clearly only meant for polar bears and penguins.
The line shifts forward, and I eye the case of pastries, trying to decide which is more likely to put that sweet smile on Teddy’s face that I love so much. I think the blueberry donut is my best bet. Bonus: he’ll taste like blueberries every time I kiss him for the rest of the morning.
I smile and bounce a little to the pop-like cover of “Jingle Bells” that’s playing through the speakers. The din of the coffee shop is otherwise the same as ever. I spot Tom, the barista, and mentally vow to put an extra tip in the jar again. My conscience is still not totally clear after the whole getting him yelled at incident.
Speaking of which…
I bite back a dramatic gasp when I realize that the man standing behind me is none other than Mr. Americano. Mr. Yells-at-Baristas. Mr. Almost-The-Future-Mr-Harlow-Monroe. Harley. I have to give it to the Great and Powerful Keanu in the sky. It has a certain kind of theatrical symmetry, seeing one of my many failed meet-cutes here while I’m picking up breakfast before flying with my super-serious live-in boyfriend to his childhood home for Christmas.
Did I mention that Teddy and I are totally in love? Like head-over-heels, better-than-any-movie-moment, oh-my-god-how-did-I-ever-live-without-this-man, in love? Just thinking the words makes the ring in my pocket feel heavier. I’ve been carrying it around for a week now, switching it from one pocket to the next, waiting for the perfect moment to ask Teddy the big question, the only question…
And I don’t mean, what kind of donut do you want to eat off my dick…umm…eat for breakfast?
Although, neither option is off the table. We’re in love, after all. If you can’t eat a donut off the dick of the man you’re in love with, what’s life all about?
“Hey, Harlow,” Tom greets me when I reach the counter.
“Hey, Tom.” I place my order and then step aside to wait.
While I do, I look around at everyone in the café, trying to guess what their plans are for the holidays, anything to keep my mind busy so I don’t end up worrying about the thing I have for weeks, the thing that’s been keeping me awake ever since we booked our plane tickets to Minnesota…what if Teddy’s parents hate me? What if I botch this whole holiday-boyfriend thing and he decides his love for me isn’t quite as eternal as he keeps promising?
“Ugh,” I groan at myself, reaching into my pocket to pull out my phone. Tom calls my name while I’m listening to the ringing through my phone, and I dart forward to grab my stuff, dodging the curious look from Harley and then heading out of the café while artfully juggling all of the things in my hands and managing not to drop the phone in the process.
“Hey, sunshine,” my best friend, Marnie, greets me cheerfully.
“Hey, love. How’s my niece treating you?” I ask.
“I told you, it’s too early to tell the sex.”
“It’s a girl. I can sense it,” I insist.
“I must’ve missed the memo on your newfound psychic ability,” she teases. “Why are you calling me anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane to the North Pole right now?”
“Minnesota,” I correct. “And yeah, I’m on my way back to the house so we can catch a ride to the airport. I’m just, ugh, I’m freaking out a little bit.”
“About his parents?” she guesses. No, guess isn’t the right word considering I’ve been whining to her about my nerves for the past week and a half.
“Yes, about his freaking parents. They’re going to hate me. They’re from Minnesota. They’re probably expecting someone a lot more…” I look down at myself and frown. I’ve never lacked in the self-esteem department, but I’m feeling all kinds of insecure right about now. “Not me.”
“Honeybuns, listen to me. You are perfect, and that man is beyond crazy about you. Everything is going to be fine.”
I grumble at her answer, the same one she’s been giving me all week. “I’ve seen enough movies with the meet-the-parents trope to know that this is going to be a complete and utter disaster.”
“I thought we agreed you’d stop taking movies as gospel.”
I grumble again, unlocking my car and sliding inside. I put my drink tray and pastry bag on the passenger seat and then sink back, tilting my head against the headrest and closing my eyes. My heart is pounding, and my stomach is squirming, but I can’t back out of this, which means I’m going to have to suck it up and get my ass on that plane. When we get to Minnesota, I’ll be the perfect son-in-law, I’ll find the exact right moment to pop the question to Teddy, and we’ll have the best Christmas of all time. I can so do this.
“Don’t make any crude jokes and don’t try to cook anything, and I’m sure it’ll go fine,” Marnie advises.
“I’ll do my best.”
We wish each other Merry Christmas, even though there’s no doubt we’ll be talking again before the actual holiday a week from now, and then I head home to my man.
TEDDY
It takes several tries, but I finally manage to get my suitcase—full of more presents than clothes—to close. It’s been too long since I’ve been home to see the family. My mom actually cried when I told her I was bringing Harlow home for Christmas and then proceeded to grill me about our relationship. I’m pretty sure I heard my sixteen-year-old sister shout, “it’s about fucking time” in the background during that call, and then was promptly reprimanded by my mother for, and I quote, trucker talk.
I smile to myself as I walk over to my dresser and grab the last thing I need to pack. I fiddle with the false bottom on the drawer, trying to find the groove that I can stick my finger in to pry it open. The measure may seem extreme, but Low has been rummaging through every nook and cranny of our house for weeks, trying to catch early glimpses of his presents. I even tried strategically hiding a few red herrings so he’d think he was done looking. He has not stopped looking. I caught him just this morning taking the lid off the toilet tank to peek inside.
I finally get it open and slide my hand inside the crevasse until my fingers brush against the velvety box I stashed there almost as soon as we moved in. I have the man, I have the ring—I pop the box open to admire it, gently stroking my index finger over the cool rose gold metal—I just need the perfect proposal. And therein lies the problem. I can’t just give him the ring and ask him to marry me. I need to plan the most epic, romantic, movie-worthy proposal that’s ever happened. So far, nothing I’ve thought up comes close to being good enough for him.
I booked and canceled a hot air balloon, a horse, and even a skywriter. All of those things were epic enough, but they weren’t quite right. I’m starting to worry I’ll never find the perfect idea. But I have to. I waited for Low for five years, and I can’t stand the thought of not being married to him any longer.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and psych myself up to call his best friend, Marnie. We’ve been playing phone tag for two weeks, calling and missing each other. I could text her for advice, but I’d much rather talk. That way there won’t be an incriminating trail of texts for Harlow to find and blow the surprise.
The phone rings a few times while I slip the ring box into the front pocket of my bag.
“Hello?” she answers.
“Marnie, hey, it’s Teddy,” I say, anxiously pacing, holding the phone in one hand while I drag the other through my hair.
“I know. I got that from the numerous voicemails.” She doesn’t bother to hide her amusement. “What’s up?”
“I need some advice.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“I’m planning to—” I cut myself off when I hear the front door open. “Damn. I’ve gotta go. Low just got home.”
“Secretive.” Marnie sounds delighted at the prospect.
“I’ll call you later,” I say quickly, hanging up the phone just as Harlow walks into the bedroom.
“Who was that?” he asks.
“When?” I ask stupidly, buying time while my brain scrambles for a good lie.
“On the phone, just now.” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You hung up super quick. If I was a less secure man, I might think you’re cheating on me.”
I bark out a laugh at the absurd idea. As if there are any men in the world other than Harlow. As if I’d be interested if there were. It’s always been Harlow. Always.
I reach for him, hooking my fingers in his belt loops and tugging him close. He comes willingly, grinning and wrapping his arms around my neck.
“You really shouldn’t look at me like that when we have a flight to catch,” he admonishes lightly, nudging his nose against mine and swaying close so our bodies touch.
“Like what?” I ask, losing myself in a haze of complete and utter adoration. It’s impossible not to when I have him in my arms, his scent permeating all of my senses, the warmth of his skin more than enough to get drunk on.
“Like you’re so in love with me you can hardly stand it.”
“You should know by now that I can’t help that, Low.” I brace one hand on the back of his neck and pull him even closer, pressing my lips against his and drowning myself in the sweet taste of him. He parts his lips and slips his tongue into my mouth. We both groan, sliding our hot, wet tongues together until we’re both hard and panting.
“Flight,” he murmurs against my mouth, and I know he’s right, but damn, it’s hard to break the kiss. He pulls back and smiles at me with damp lips. “Maybe we can join the mile-high club.”
I chuckle and reach down to pinch his ass. “You’re trouble.”
“Guilty,” he agrees, disentangling himself from my arms and grabbing his own suitcase off the bed.
Our cat, Eileen, jumps on the bed and plants herself on top of my suitcase in a blatant attempt to keep me from leaving.
“We’ve gotta go, baby girl,” Harlow coos at her, picking her up and kissing the top of her head. “Uncle Ezra will take good care of you though. Make sure to give him extra-stinky poops to clean up.”
I shake my head at his evil suggestion. Since things have gotten serious between Harlow and me, my assistant, Ezra, has seemed to reach a bit of a truce with him. But the two of them won’t be joining each other’s fan clubs anytime soon.
He sets her back down gently on the bed, and I heave my suitcase onto the floor, careful not to break any of the gifts inside.
I have a feeling this is going to be a great week. Christmas in Minnesota, what could be better? And if all goes well, I’ll come up with the perfect proposal in no time.
“Oh, by the way, my mom is going to fly up too. I want our families to mix, and I didn’t want her to be alone for the holiday.”
“That works,” I agree. “Although, that means she’ll get the guest room, and we’ll be stuck cramming into the twin-size bed in my childhood bedroom.”
“Sounds cozy.” He winks at me before pulling out his phone and opening the airline app, his face going pale in a second. “Fuck, we really do need to get moving if we want to catch our flight.”
And just like that, we’re running out the door to hop into the waiting Uber. I know Harlow is nervous about this week, but I have a smile on my face the entire ride to the airport. My favorite person in the world is meeting my family. What could be better?
This is going to be the best Christmas ever.
Beautiful Dreamer by Christina Lee
Prologue
Finn
“Mom says you have to help,” my brother complained.
I rolled my eyes as I stabbed my thumb at the controller button. “With what?”
“Building a snow fort,” he replied, folding his arms like some ten-year-old dictator.
And because I was older by three years, I knew my parents would harp on me if I didn’t go outside with Rory and his best friend, Garrett.
I tossed down my controller before Rory got on my last nerve. Garrett stood silent behind him—the kid was normally quiet and vigilant—and I suppose I always had a soft spot for him. Whether it was the pouty lip or the puppy-dog eyes, I didn’t know, but the kid could lay it on thick when he needed to.
I bundled up and followed them outside, hoping to get back to my game within the hour. I gave them the task of pushing piles of snow toward me so I could start building a short wall.
When the structure seemed sufficiently sturdy, I began stacking snowballs behind it. To test how well they’d hold up, I absently lobbed one across the yard, forgetting to give them a heads-up.
Normally my aim was terrible, but this time it met its mark, striking Garrett right in the mouth. Crap. That was my parents’ one rule: never aim for the head. I was sure to catch hell for it now.
Garrett had fallen to his knees, his head bent, sniveling into the snow.
“I wasn’t even aiming for you,” I said, jogging over to him. “You okay?” I bent down and squeezed his shoulder, hoping I didn’t give him a fat lip.
He finally uncovered his face, a devious gleam in his eyes. I hadn’t even noticed the little shit held a snowball in his hand until it was too late.
He raised his arm and smooshed his poorly constructed snowball in my face. But it didn’t matter; snow was snow, and it was freaking cold. When my brother leaped on my back and shoved a handful down my shirt, that was the last straw. I was going to murder them. “I’m so going to kick your butts!”
They took off running, but I was faster and caught up with Garrett first. The slender thing was easy to lift, and I tossed him into a mound of snow and held his arms so he couldn’t fight back. “Say uncle.”
He shook his head side to side as his cheeks flushed a deep crimson red. When Rory tried to intervene on his best friend’s behalf, I wrestled him to the ground as well until we were all exhausted and breathless.
“I’ll tell Mom if you don’t let me go,” Rory cried.
“Whatever. I’m done playing with babies,” I said, releasing him and getting to my feet. “You’re welcome for building the fort, by the way.”
Ungrateful little brats.
I glanced over my shoulder as I trudged back to the house. Garrett still lay on the pile of snow where I’d left him, a goofy smile plastered on his face.
My foot faltered on the step. That grin of his hit me dead center in my chest. I guess it was contagious because before I knew it, I was smiling too.
I Only Want to be with You by J Scott Coatsworth
Chapter One
The doorbell rang.
Derrek groaned, pulling his blanket up over his head. "Leave me alone, Tony."
Tony from work had stopped by three times to check on him after he'd taken the week off to plan his mother's funeral. It was starting to get obnoxious. Tony kinda had a thing for black guys. Derrek really didn't have a thing for him.
"It's not Tony." The voice was deeper, warmer than Tony's. It didn't scream gay accountant.
Oh shit. Derrek was in no shape for company, but it was Ryan. Ryan Kessler.
Ryan was practically family. They'd been friends for five years, ever since they'd met at a grief support group. "Coming." He threw the blanket under the couch and checked himself in the mirror, trying to force his hair into some semblance of combed. Then he dragged himself to the door.
Derrek clearly wasn't Ryan's type. Yet somehow, they'd formed a singular friendship.
"Hey, sport." Ryan stood there in his full glory, looking like that gay soccer player from Spain? Portugal? Cristiano Ronaldo. Clean cut, tanned, and beautiful.
Seriously, Derrek was pretty sure that Ryan glowed and that birds chirped when he entered a room. It all might have been in his head.
It didn't matter, anyhow. Ryan is with Alex.
Ryan held up a paper bag and pulled out a round container. "Brought you some soup from the Chicken Pie Shop."
"You brought me soup?" Derrek sniffed himself surreptitiously. He hadn't bathed in three days, since his mother's funeral.
"Yeah. I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. Work had me in San Francisco for training. I just got in last night and heard your voicemail." Ryan hugged him. "I'm so sorry, Derr."
"Thanks. It's been a rough week. Want to come in?" Derrek took the container.
"Sure." He followed Derrek inside.
"Hey, you hungry? I can't eat all of this myself."
"Yeah, I haven't had dinner yet."
"What about Alex?"
"He said he would be home late. He has a work thing tonight."
Derrek tried not to roll his eyes. "Wanna stick around and eat with me, then? The soup smells great. I haven't really had much of an appetite, since mom passed."
"What happened?"
Derrek shook his head. "They don't know. She was at work, and she just… fell." He hadn't been there, but his mind had latched onto that image. The look of horror on her face, the long collapse… He grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter and squeezed it hard. Oh God, why do I have to keep seeing it? "They think it was a stroke."
Ryan's arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. "They didn't do an autopsy?"
Derrek tried to ignore the effect Ryan had on him. This wasn't the time. "We didn't want one. I mean… what's the point?" He sighed. "She looked so beautiful—her face made up and her hair done, wearing one of her favorite bright blue blouses. But she was… I don't know… hollow, somehow? Not like herself at all."
Ryan nodded. "My grandma was like that. Like it wasn't even her." He pulled a chair out and gestured for Derrek to sit. "Relax. I'll heat this up for us." He put the soup in one of Derrek's cranberry Pyrex bowls.
Derrek watched Ryan work, setting the table with ceramic bowls and a couple spoons. He knows where everything is. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess. I haven't felt like showering. Like doing much of anything, really." He rubbed his eyes. I do need a shower. "I have to go back to work tomorrow."
"You're entitled to be a mess. Are you sure you're ready for work?" Ryan microwaved the soup, glancing at Derrek over his shoulder.
"Honestly, I think it will be a good distraction." He was ready to throw himself into something, and at least at work he got a paycheck for it. "The Grind has been really good about giving me the time off."
"What do you want to drink?" Ryan poked his head into the fridge. "Eeeeew."
"What?"
"I don't think milk's supposed to look like that."
"Like what?"
"Like cottage cheese?" He held up the container.
Derrek snorted in spite of himself. "Sorry. I haven't gotten to the store in a few days. Or week, maybe. It's hard to remember."
"How about some wine?"
"Perfect."
Ryan found a couple of wineglasses, and uncorked a bottle of red wine from Derrek's modest under-the-sink collection, mostly housewarming gifts brought by friends.
The microwave beeped, and Ryan served the soup, ladling it steaming into the two bowls.
It smelled heavenly.
"Best chicken soup in San Diego," Ryan said with a grin. "At least Yelp says so."
"Well, if Yelp says it's true…" Derrek managed a weak smile. "I'm sorry. I'm not very good company right now."
"Hey, I'm the company. You're the guest of honor. Or something like that. Eat!"
Derrek took a sip of the chunky soup. "Oh my God, that's good." It was full of carrots, potato, and big chunks of white chicken meat. He hadn't realized how hungry he was.
Ryan grinned. "Yeah, it really is."
Derrek gulped it down. "So," he asked between spoonfuls. "Does Alex know you're here?"
Derrek nodded. "Yeah. I told him."
"And he was okay with it?"
Ryan was silent.
"Ryan, does Alex mind that you came to see me?"
Ryan shrugged. "He'll get over it."
Jesus, Mary, and Mamma Mia. "Ryan…"
"It'll be okay. Really. I needed to come, to check in on you, to make sure you were all right." He reached out to touch Derrek's hand. "It's what friends do."
Derrek squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you came. Can I make a confession?"
"Sure?" Ryan raised an eyebrow.
"I might not mind if your being here pisses Alex off, a little."
Ryan laughed. "He'll be fine. He owes me. He didn't tell me you'd called until I got home."
They talked for hours. At first it was about Derrek's mother, and all the good things Derrek remembered about her. Then they moved on to David and Will, the men they'd loved and lost.
Derrek couldn't believe it had been five years already.
Finally, they moved on to their hopes and dreams for the future. Derrek wanted to be a full-time writer. Ryan wanted to open his own coffee shop.
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
When she's not writing you can find her blogging away on Diverse Reader, her review and promotional site. She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she'd tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you're afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
JODI spent too many years in New York and San Francisco stage managing classical plays, edgy fringe work, and the occasional musical. She, therefore, is overdramatic, takes herself way too seriously, and has been known to randomly break out in song. Her men are imperfect but genuine, stubborn but likable, often kinky, and frequently their own worst enemies. They are characters you can’t help but fall in love with while they stumble along the path to their happily ever after.
For those looking to get on her good side, Jodi’s addictions include nonfat lattes, Malbec, and tequila any way you pour it. She’s also obsessed with Shakespeare and Broadway musicals. She can be found wearing sock monkey gloves while typing when it’s cold, and on the beach enjoying the sun and the ocean when it’s hot. When she’s not writing and/or vacuuming sand out of her laptop, Jodi mentors queer youth and will drop everything for live music. Jodi lives near New York City with her beautiful wife, and together they are mothers of dragons (cleverly disguised as children) and slaves to an enormous polydactyl cat.
For those looking to get on her good side, Jodi’s addictions include nonfat lattes, Malbec, and tequila any way you pour it. She’s also obsessed with Shakespeare and Broadway musicals. She can be found wearing sock monkey gloves while typing when it’s cold, and on the beach enjoying the sun and the ocean when it’s hot. When she’s not writing and/or vacuuming sand out of her laptop, Jodi mentors queer youth and will drop everything for live music. Jodi lives near New York City with her beautiful wife, and together they are mothers of dragons (cleverly disguised as children) and slaves to an enormous polydactyl cat.
Author K.M.Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together. She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series. When she's not writing she's a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero...just kidding, she's likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.
Once upon a time, I lived in New York City and was a wardrobe stylist. I spent my days shopping for photo shoots, getting into cabs, eating amazing food, and drinking coffee at my favorite hangouts.
Now I live in the Midwest with my husband and son—my two favorite guys. I've been a clinical social worker and a special education teacher. But it wasn't until I wrote a weekly column for the local newspaper that I realized I could turn the fairytales inside my head into the reality of writing fiction.
I write Adult, New Adult, and M/M Contemporary Romance. I'm addicted to lip gloss and salted caramel everything. I believes in true love and kissing, so writing romance novels has become a dream job.
Scott lives with his husband Mark in a little yellow bungalow with two pink flamingoes in Sacramento. He inhabits the space between the here and now and the what could be. Indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine, he devoured her library. But as he grew up, he wondered where the people like him were.
He decided it was time to create the kinds of stories he couldn’t find at Waldenbooks. If there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.
His friends say Scott’s brain works a little differently – he sees relationships between things that others miss, and gets more done in a day than most folks manage in a week. He seeks to transform traditional sci fi, fantasy, and contemporary worlds into something unexpected.
A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that bring queer people together to promote and celebrate fiction reflecting their own reality. Scott is a full member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).
Davidson King
EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com
Jodi Payne
KM Neuhold
Christina Lee
NEWSLETTER / KOBO / B&N
EMAIL: christinalee04@gmail.com
J Scott Coatsworth
EMAIL: jscottc@me.com
You're the One by Davidson King
A Whole Latke Love by Jodi Payne
Operation Meet the Parents by KM Neuhold
Beautiful Dreamer by Christina Lee
