Summary:
Holiday Surprise #2
Sean's not looking forward to another year of playing the Ice Palace Prince.
When Sean came up with the idea for Valle Granja's Ice Palace and Winter Village market for the holidays, he never imagined that he'd be named the honorary prince of the event. Now, several years in, he can't seem to ditch the title. But at least there's one perk. He gets to admire one of the business partners for the event, a man he knew in hich school: Lowell. It's just too bad the handsome alpha is probably already taken.
Lowell's been attracted to Sean since high school, but never dared to say anything.
Between being a nerdy alpha during high school, and not wanting to face off against Sean's alpha girlfriend, Lowell's always admired the other man from afar. But as he interacts with the gorgeous omega he starts to wonder if everything he knew about the him was true.
But even if Sean's available and likes men, would he be interested in Lowell?
Ice Palace Prince is a 14K word , non-shifter, M/M, Mpreg romance
Summary:
Words & Wishes
Does Fate Grant Wishes?
Ryan O’Shaughnessy, owner of the Top o’ the Morning Coffeehouse, is convinced of it. Besides brewing the best coffee in Rothcote and baking delicious pastries and cakes, he helps Fate with her errands, never minding that it’s always someone else’s turn to catch a bit of happiness. Not until he meets a man who takes his breath away.
Detective Sergeant Ben Hobart has made a career of helping others. He never asks help for himself. Not even when a bad breakup leaves him lonely and with only his cat for company. Until he sets foot into Ryan’s coffeehouse to investigate a break-in and finds what’s missing from his life.
Fate may grant wishes, but she doesn’t hand them out for free. Can Ben let go of the past? And will Ryan find the courage to make a wish of his own?
A sexy, slow-burn, mm coffeeshop romance with a touch of magic and a cat.
Summary:
Snowed Inn
The advantage of a one-night stand is being able to walk away. Except, Nathan can’t.
Workaholic Nathan Nicholls hasn’t had the easiest time of late. Still reeling from his publisher’s rejection of his latest book, he seeks refuge in a remote hotel. When he’s propositioned by the sinfully sexy CJ, a man who knows exactly what he wants and isn’t afraid to go for it, why shouldn’t Nathan throw caution to the winds for once and have a bit of fun? After all, he’s leaving the next day.
When an avalanche puts paid to Nathan’s quick exit, he finds himself stuck there for Christmas. Stuck with CJ. What should be awkward, quickly becomes something else. The snow might be cold, but the time they spend together is far from it, and Nathan finds his heart warming. If only their passion and laughter didn’t have a shelf life, doomed to come to an end once the road is cleared.
Nathan Nicholls doesn’t do one-night-stands. But maybe, just maybe, if he makes a Christmas wish, this could be something more.
A sweet and steamy 43k forced proximity story which features a man who never was any good at one-night stands, a cheerful wildlife photographer who might not be as confident as he makes out, rustic log cabins, snow, Christmas cheer, and two men gaining a whole new perspective on life.
All the books In the Snowed Inn collection are standalone stories and can be read in any order.
Summary:
Chain Reaction
Can Avery open his heart to two soldiers this Christmas?
Felix Hawkins and Zach Walsh fell in love with each other when they were fourteen—and with their best friend’s little brother when they were twenty-three. But at that point, Avery was barely an adult, still wearing hearts in his eyes when he looked at them. Felix was determined that they should wait so that Avery could come to them on even footing, as an adult fully grown and with a clear head. Zach wasn’t sure he could be that patient, but for Felix, and for Avery, he would do anything. So they’ve held out for what feels like forever—and they know what they want for Christmas this year!
Avery McKenna might have crushed on his brother’s best friends once upon a time, but that’s over with now… right? He’s focused on his career, and while his job might not be keeping him warm at night, it’s summer in Sydney; he doesn’t need any extra warmth. Felix and Zach and their charming… everything, can waltz right back out the door because he doesn’t want anything to do with whatever game they’re playing with him. It has to be a game, right? Earth-shattering kisses aside, why would they ever want him for keeps?
Is the beautiful picture they might paint together worth the risk of it all going wrong? Avery has never been a gambler, but he might finally be ready to take a chance on the best Christmas present he’s ever received.
Two Soldiers for Christmas is a roughly 28,000-word MMM older brother’s best friends Christmas novella featuring an established couple adding a third, Christmas shenanigans, and a satisfying HFN ending.
A Little Christmas
Can a Christmas miracle make Blake’s secret dream come true?
Blake has no one. His boyfriend cheated on him and left without a word taking almost everything in the apartment. His boss fired him. He’s behind on the rent and Christmas is coming.
But there is one man, Eliot, always impeccably dressed, always with a nice word, who keeps running into him. Blake knows him as a regular at the diner where he used to work. The man was a great tipper.
Eliot asks him out. Blake accepts. When his date shows up in a gleaming Rolls Royce to pick him up and Blake is wearing only his best jeans and an old sweater, shivering in the new falling snow, he realizes Eliot is way out of his league.
He can’t possibly go on this date now. He’s not good enough. Worse, if Eliot were to ever find out his secret, that Blake has a little side and an impossible dream to one day call a lover “daddy” and not get smacked or laughed at for it, Eliot would probably never want to see him again.
But it’s Christmastime, and Eliot is a surprisingly persuasive guy, not to mention full of his own sweet secrets. This is the time of year when things have a way of working out, but can Blake let down his barriers long enough to see the special truth between them?
Contemporary holiday gay romance, age gap, billionaire, rescue, comfort from the cold, HEA. This is an MM daddy/little Christmas twist on The Little Princess Classic tale. Each age play romance book in this multi-author series can be read as a standalone.
Random Tales of Christmas 2022
Ice Palace Prince by Lacey Daize
When the party thinned out, Ben found Ryan, and they escaped from the cheerful uproar into the dark courtyard where the white tree with its single red bauble glowed and glittered.
Ben poked the bauble with a fingertip and watched it swing back and forth. “The first time I saw this, I wondered if it was a signal.”
“I knew you were a clever man.”
“You mean it is a signal?”
“Of course. It’s our way to say that everyone is welcome, whether you’re like everyone else or one of a kind, whether you’re in a crowd or on your own. That’s what hospitality is all about. We always make room for one more. Or two.”
Ben swallowed past the lump in his throat. He reached for Ryan and smiled when Ryan leaned against him with a deep sigh. “Tired?”
“You said it. I could happily sleep standing here.”
“Recovering from exposure isn’t pleasant. And if you fall asleep right now, you’d miss… this.” He didn’t give Ryan a chance to ask. He wrapped his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, drew him close, and kissed him.
Ryan’s lips were dry, and a little rough, but he leaned into Ben’s hold and kissed him back, sharing the taste of cinnamon and custard, and the elusive flavour of Earl Grey tea.
It was the most perfect end to a perfect day.
Ben hadn’t forgotten that they stood in front of a lit Christmas tree, that anyone who cared to peer out into the courtyard could see them, wrapped around each other.
He didn’t mind.
A Box of Wishes by Jackie Keswick
When the party thinned out, Ben found Ryan, and they escaped from the cheerful uproar into the dark courtyard where the white tree with its single red bauble glowed and glittered.
Ben poked the bauble with a fingertip and watched it swing back and forth. “The first time I saw this, I wondered if it was a signal.”
“I knew you were a clever man.”
“You mean it is a signal?”
“Of course. It’s our way to say that everyone is welcome, whether you’re like everyone else or one of a kind, whether you’re in a crowd or on your own. That’s what hospitality is all about. We always make room for one more. Or two.”
Ben swallowed past the lump in his throat. He reached for Ryan and smiled when Ryan leaned against him with a deep sigh. “Tired?”
“You said it. I could happily sleep standing here.”
“Recovering from exposure isn’t pleasant. And if you fall asleep right now, you’d miss… this.” He didn’t give Ryan a chance to ask. He wrapped his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, drew him close, and kissed him.
Ryan’s lips were dry, and a little rough, but he leaned into Ben’s hold and kissed him back, sharing the taste of cinnamon and custard, and the elusive flavour of Earl Grey tea.
It was the most perfect end to a perfect day.
Ben hadn’t forgotten that they stood in front of a lit Christmas tree, that anyone who cared to peer out into the courtyard could see them, wrapped around each other.
He didn’t mind.
Five Night Stand by HL Day
Chapter One
Two weeks ago
With a sigh, I threw the magazine I hadn’t really been reading back on the table and checked my watch for what felt like the hundredth time. The meeting should have started twenty minutes ago. Did the publishing company think I had nothing better to do than sit around and wait? And what was with the face-to-face meeting anyway? None of my previous book contracts with them had been accompanied by the requirement to “stop by their offices.” The way they’d said it had made it sound like it was akin to popping down to the shops for a pint of milk, rather than the two-hour train journey it had taken to travel from Leeds to London. And that was before you factored in the extra hour on the tube to reach their offices in Central London.
The red-haired receptionist caught my eye. She offered a polite smile, the ring piercing in her eyebrow shifting with the movement. “Shouldn’t be much longer now.”
That was the third time she’d said that, the first time seeming an age ago, although, it was probably closer to ten minutes. I gave her a nod and did my best not to look like I was irritated. I crossed an ankle over my knee and tapped it in time with the ticking of the clock while I asked myself that same question again. Why was I here? Was it just company policy? Or maybe… a bubble of excitement rose within me as the thought arose. Did they want to negotiate a longer book deal? So far, I’d signed individual contracts for the three books I’d published with them. Perhaps they wanted to discuss a three-book deal, or maybe even five books.
The door to the right opened and Lee, the head of acquisitions, appeared in the doorway. He shook the hand of a woman in a long black coat as they said their goodbyes, and once she’d walked away, he looked my way. “Nathan, I apologize for making you wait.” He stepped to the side and gestured to the room he’d just left. “Do come in and have a seat.”
His office was noticeably bare. I didn’t know what I’d expected. Lots of books, maybe. It was a publisher’s office, after all. But the walls were mostly blank except for a large photograph of London Bridge, which seemed an odd choice when you could see the real thing if you traveled just a few streets.
I lowered myself into the blue padded chair, Lee seating himself in a matching one on the opposite side of his desk. And then there was silence. I cleared my throat. More silence.
Lee finally sat forward, as if he’d just remembered that this was his office, and he was the one who’d scheduled this meeting rather than the other way around. He smiled. “It’s so good to meet you in person after all this time.”
I returned his smile, nerves making the action feel forced. We’d had numerous conversations before, but they’d all taken place over Zoom. That’s why I was finding it difficult to understand what made this one different. At home, I could have had the meeting over and done with in ten minutes, and already be sitting at my desk with a coffee.
Lee steepled his fingers together and flashed another smile. “We loved your first book here at Blue Wolf Press. As you know, it did very well. The readers loved the characters, and that twist at the end… Well, it knocked their socks off. So we were more than happy to publish books two and three. You’re aware, of course, that those didn’t do quite as well.”
I frowned. Where was this going? “That’s normal, isn’t it? With a series, I mean? Book one is still selling strongly, so that will bring more people to the series, and book four…” I stopped as Lee’s face creased into a slight grimace. “You don’t like book four?”
“Book four is…” Lee looked like he was picking his words carefully, my palms starting to sweat as the truth of why he’d felt the need to have this meeting face-to-face finally dawned on me.
“Book four is what?”
Lee’s mouth twisted. “There’s no easy way to say this, Nathan, so I’m just going to come out with it. We have decided that in its present state, we won’t be able to offer you a contract for it.”
I blinked, the words solidifying in my chest. I’d spent the last eight months writing that book. It had taken numerous caffeine-fueled nights to meet the deadline they’d set for me. I’d locked myself away and I’d barely seen anyone. I had friends who’d stopped calling me because they knew I wouldn’t make time for them. I hadn’t dated. I’d barely spoken to anyone, except for Lloyd, and that was only because he’d cut himself a key for my house and insisted on turning up to “remind me that people existed.” But I’d met the deadline. And it had all seemed worth it at the time. Except, now they didn’t want the book that I’d sweated blood and tears over. I went back over Lee’s words, picking them slowly apart. “What do you mean by in its present state?”
Another grimace. Lee didn’t seem to be enjoying this meeting very much. That made two of us. “It’s…”
I leaned forward, my fingers curling into my palms hard enough for my nails to leave dents. “Tell me. I can take it.” Actually, I wasn’t sure I could, but it seemed like the right thing to say if I wanted to get information out of him.
Lee lowered his hand to the table, his fingers tapping out an uneven rhythm, his gaze fixed on something just over my right shoulder. “I don’t want you to think this is just coming from me. I had another of our editors read your manuscript, and they agreed with me.”
There seemed to be a lot of words coming from Lee without any actual meaning attached to them. I made my question more direct. “What’s wrong with it?”
Lee pushed a single sheet of paper across the table toward me, his gaze returning to mine. I picked the paper up to find it had writing on both sides. “There’s a more detailed breakdown on there. I’ll e-mail you a copy as well. But if I was to summarize, I’d say it just lacks life when it comes to the characters. There’s a lot of action and drama, as there always is in your books, and in the first three books that rang true. But in this book, it just doesn’t seem to affect anyone. They’re the same people at the end of the book as they are at the start. I guess what I’m trying to say is, there’s no character growth. It’s almost like they’re cardboard cutouts.”
Cardboard cutouts. Ouch! While Lee had begun this conversation reluctant to give me bad news, he seemed to have warmed up to the point where he could toss brutal words out rather casually. I wasn’t about to sit there and take it without sticking up for myself. Not when he was being unfair. “The book takes place over five days. You’re expecting people to change in five days. That just doesn’t happen.”
Lee gave me a long stare. “You think after everything they experienced, the kidnapping, the discovery of the real mastermind who had been behind everything from the start, the unexpected death of a family member, that they would be the same people? There are far less catastrophic events that change people in a much shorter time.”
I shifted on the chair. “I don’t agree.”
Lee looked thoughtful. “Well… we’ll have to agree to disagree on that. What I saw, and what the other editor saw, were a group of people going through the motions. A group of flat and lifeless people.”
Wow! He was really twisting the knife now. It made me wonder again why we couldn’t have done this over Zoom. It would have been far less embarrassing. I guess company policy was for rejections to be face-to-face. If only I’d known that before. I might have been better prepared mentally for this meeting.
Lee smoothed an errant lock of hair back behind his ear. “How’s your home life, Nathan?”
I blinked at him. “My home life? What’s that got to do with anything?”
He propped his elbows on the desk, the expression on his face deliberately earnest. “I’ve worked with other writers, who when they have things going on at home, it reflects in their writing. Your writing just seems a little jaded, and I wondered if there were perhaps events in your life making it that way. Sometimes, it’s better to take a step back and fix the problems at home first. Clear your mind, so to speak. Refill the creative well.”
I stared at him, heat creeping slowly up my neck. When had this become a therapy session? “I had a deadline. One which I met.”
Lee nodded slowly. “True.”
I shook my head. “Besides, there’s nothing going on at home. Everything’s fine.”
“Well…” Lee gestured at the piece of paper in my hand, creases already appearing in it from how tightly I was gripping it. “Take that home. Read through it. And if you decide to make extensive revisions based on my comments, you are of course welcome to send us the revised manuscript and we’ll review our decision.”
I seized onto the tiny glimmer of light. “So… it’s possible you could change your mind about it?”
Lee shrugged. “It’s possible, with extensive revisions.”
He really liked that word “extensive.” I got it. They weren’t going anywhere near it unless I basically rewrote the entire thing. “Right.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between us. Eventually, Lee picked up a pen and tapped it on the table. “What are you doing for Christmas?”
Oh, we were doing small talk now, were we? Now that he’d called my book a piece of crap. “I’m flying to Denver in Colorado. My dad moved there six years ago when he remarried. And my mum died a few years back, so…”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How long are you going for?”
None of your business! I tamped down on the urge to tell him that, or to simply get up and leave so I could lick my wounds in private. I could be polite. For a few minutes anyway. Any longer than that and I might be tempted to ram that annoying pen somewhere the sun didn’t shine. “Just a few days.”
Another tap of the pen. “Maybe you should fly out earlier. Take a break somewhere. Somewhere with lots of fresh air.” He smiled. “Maybe that’ll get the creative juices flowing again.”
I didn’t return his smile. “Maybe I will.”
The next few minutes passed in somewhat of a blur. There was more small talk, but I couldn’t have said what we’d discussed. There was a handshake, and then I was finally able to leave, my steps hurried as I breezed past the receptionist without saying goodbye.
I managed to keep a lid on my emotions until I was finally out in the cold December air, the steady flow of people making their way past me on the busy London street oblivious to the man staring into the distance as he tried to decide what he was supposed to do now. Maybe making my break longer wasn’t such a bad idea.
Two Soldiers for Christmas by Aurora Crane
If Zach hadn’t already fallen in love with this man, this would have been the moment. The point in a rom-com movie where everything slows down as that realisation kicks in. Except there were no oh fuck feelings to accompany it. It wasn’t a surprising feeling for him. Zach welcomed it.
“What are you—?” Avery said, his eyes widening in horror. They widened further when he looked down at himself. “Oh my god.”
He slammed the door in their faces.
Felix chuckled. “Think he forgot we were coming?”
Something crashed loudly inside and Zach instantly shoved his bags at Felix and rushed through the—thankfully unlocked—door. If it hadn’t been, he would have put his boot through it.
Avery was standing next to a small scaffolding set up, the floor surrounding it covered in white sheets, and dozens of tins of paint in different sizes. There were about six jars of murky water and paintbrushes and a few rollers, along with an iPod speaker dock that had splashes of paint all over it. An iPod that Zach was pretty sure was older than Avery was sitting in it, low Christmas music playing.
The only part of the situation that didn’t fit was the paint tin that Avery was holding in his hand, red paint puddled all over the sheets and some of it leaking onto to the tiling.
Avery stared at him, red paint dripping from his hair. “Um…”
“Are you all right?” Felix asked. He took the paint tin from Avery’s hand and checked it over while Zach took Avery’s face in his hands. Zach turned his head left and right, making sure he hadn’t hurt himself. It looked like all the red was just paint, but it was best to be sure.
Avery was still staring, wide-eyed, at him. “Yeah—yes? I’m fine. I just…” He sighed and gestured at the scaffolding with the hand that Felix had just let go of. “Knocked down the paint tin. It’s going to take me hours to clean this mess up.”
“I think you’re supposed to have a harness on when you’re up that high,” Felix said, looking over the scaffolding with a slight frown on his face.
“It’s not high,” Avery said.
“Still above regulation height,” Felix said.
“Aren’t you just a walking inspector?” Avery shot back sarcastically. “It’s fine.”
“What would happen if you did fall?” Felix’s eyes narrowed. “If you were here alone and hit your head?”
Avery threw his hands up in aggravation. “I guess I would just die?”
Zach bit back his snarled reaction to those words. He knew that Avery wasn’t being serious, but it still made him feel like he’d been slammed in the head by a helicopter rotor. He might not have been a medic, but he knew how quickly a head injury could turn bad.
He reached out and grabbed one of the scaffolding legs, and then pushed. It rolled easily under his grip. “You don’t even have the safety on,” he said flatly.
“So what?”
“So what?” Zach repeated, his voice rising unintentionally. “So have a little more care for your personal safety.”
“What, you guys are going to suddenly act like you give a shit about me?” Avery’s hazel eyes were blazing.
“When have we not cared about you?” Felix asked. He sounded like always did—even and level-headed. But Zach knew him too well. He could hear the tremor of hurt that Felix was so good at concealing. Hearing it made anger rise in Zach’s stomach. They didn’t deserve that. They’d never been dismissive of Avery, not once, in all the years they’d known him.
“I’ve been doing this for years and I’m still here, so go pull your big brother act on someone else,” Avery said, turning his back dismissively.
Zach whirled him around and trapped him against the scaffolding, bracing himself with one hand gripping tightly to it. “Big brother act?” he bit out. “You think that’s what this is?”
Avery’s pulse visibly jumped in his throat. The things that Zach wanted to do to him, the thoughts he had, weren’t brotherly in any way. He took hold of Avery’s chin and stroked his thumb across it, just under the alluring curve of his bottom lip. Avery’s pupils dilated, his lips parting in shock.
Blake by Wendy Rathbone
1
Blake
Everything had to be perfect. Not a crumb on the booth seats. Not a watermark on any table. Every table display ad had to be wiped down and the stands cleaned until they glowed. The floor, which was an indoor/outdoor patterned carpet, had to be push-vacuumed under the table after each customer, and we must be quiet about it. We inspected every piece of silverware before wrapping it perfectly in a large, white paper napkin and sealing it with the company logo sticker.
I understood all that. Treating customers right was my heartfelt concern. Cleanliness was important in a restaurant, even if we were a second-rate diner.
The problem? Nothing was ever perfect enough for my boss, Carl Denum. Nothing ever could be.
“Don’t you see that speck there?”
“No.”
“Are you talking back to me?”
“No, sir.” I wiped the countertop for the third time. My rag was clean. There was no speck, only a glint of light from the overheads on the semi-damp, shiny surface.
“I’m tired of staff questioning me. You’re one of the worst. You think you can bat your pretty eyes at me? No man should have eyes like that. Are you wearing makeup? No male server on my staff wears makeup. Understood?” Carl’s breath washed over me. Whiskey.
“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. I mean, I’m not wearing any makeup, sir.”
“Hmph. Looks like you are. What will the customers think?”
“I’m good with the customers, sir. They tip me well, which you should know.”
Carl owned Lights On, a corner diner in the tourist section of Old Towne and, because he could, he kept eighty percent of all the tips his servers made. If we held back, we would be fired.
I found out after I got the job he was a miserable, divorced alcoholic who thought he could get his life back in order by controlling others. He picked on me the most of all the staff and I couldn’t figure out why when I did my job well. I would have quit if I had any other prospects, but for now I was stuck going to work every day until I figured out my own miserable life.
“Are you trying to criticize the way I run my own diner?” Carl asked.
“No, sir.”
“The customers should like you for your service. That’s your job. That’s what I pay you for, not what they pay tips for. Tips are extra for my space, my food, my plates and glasses. Understood?” He was getting defensive. People criticized him for keeping tips. Customers were horrified when they found out and either stopped coming or topped tipping. His wait staff turn-over was horrendously quick. It was a lose-lose situation.
“Yes, sir.”
Carl stuck his nose up and sniffed, then turned, shuffling back to his office.
With shaking hands, I picked up the coffee pot and made the rounds filling customer’s cups. It was still early morning. Not a great way to start off the day.
As I put the pot down, Kelly headed me off around the corner and said, “Blake. Is Carl giving you shit again?”
I shrugged, trying to keep up my smile, and said, “Isn’t he always?”
“Yeah, but he takes it out on you the most. He watches you. It’s creepy.”
“Right now, I gotta have this job. There’s nothing I can do.”
“I know you’re trying to pay the rent for your apartment by yourself after your roomie left.”
Technically, my roomie had been my short-term boyfriend, Ben, but I wasn’t going to correct her.
That was another mistake I’d made this year, other than this job. I’d invited Ben in, becoming enamored with his initial smooth seduction. I hadn’t realized he was doing drugs. And other guys. He paid me half the first month’s rent and then nothing after. Two months ago, I’d asked him to leave. When I came home from work, the apartment had been cleaned out, including my TV and the food in the fridge. He even took my bathroom towels. And my winter jacket. Luckily, I’d had my laptop and phone with me at work, so he didn’t get those.
I was already behind on my rent now, so I couldn’t easily replace any of that stuff.
Kelly tapped me on my shoulder. “Hey, that guy’s back.”
“What guy?” I started to turn.
“You know. The one who dresses in slick suits, is a great tipper and always requests you. The one you like. He hasn’t been in in a couple weeks.”
My face heated when I saw who it was. “Eliot.” I heard my own voice go soft when I said his name. “Yeah, he is a good tipper.”
“Well.” She patted me on the shoulder. “What are you waiting for? Go take his order.”
I already knew it by heart. Two eggs scrambled easy, two slices of bacon, two pancakes, orange juice and coffee. Standard, easy fare. Also, my own favorite breakfast of champions.
My stomach gave a little growl. I’d skipped breakfast this morning. And many mornings before that. Some nights I had pancakes for dinner, but only because they were cheap.
Eliot sat by a window booth, head bent, his tablet in front of him. His light brown wavy hair rippled in the light coming down on him from the lamp over his head. He had a great profile from his perfectly sloped nose to his strong jaw.
My mouth went a little dry whenever I dealt with him. He was a great customer, but his presence exuded such a confident, dominant air that I felt places inside me start to slide to a secret, submissive space I’d never confided to anyone. Sometimes I had to focus to keep breathing around him.
I walked toward his booth with my usual friendly smile. “Hey, Eliot. Good to see you again.”
He glanced up, his dark eyes sparkling. “Blake. Glad to see you. Breakfast always tastes better when you’re my waiter.”
“I do my best.” My stomach took that moment to growl again. I hoped he didn’t hear it.
“So, how are you?” he asked. “Anything going on? Plans for the holidays?”
It was mid-November and everyone began asking those same questions this time of year. I had a pat response which was always, “Hanging with friends.” But with Eliot, I craved to be more honest. Not so he’d feel sorry for me, but because lying to him felt wrong.
“Not sure, yet. I have an uncle who invited me for Thanksgiving, but he lives over two hours away.” That was the literal truth. Except for the part where I said I wasn’t sure. I had no extra money for gas to drive that far for a turkey dinner, so I’d already declined.
His mouth curved up. “Well, me, too. I’ve got relatives a little too far away. And then I have to ask myself, do I really want to see them?”
We both chuckled.
“Well, I hope whatever you decide you have a nice place to be where you’re warm and loved.”
I blinked for a moment. His tone had changed from laughter to serious and was softly insistent. Like he cared.
I rarely received much more than surface, hollow empathy from customers. Sometimes they wanted to tell me more about them than I wished to know, but it was only because they were lonely. Rarely did they want to hear about me or offer more than a platitude for a “good day.”
My eyes began to feel warm because I knew where I was headed after work and on into the holidays. Back to my empty apartment with no bath towels and no TV. My wifi was within days of being shut off as well. And right now, I was down to buying packaged minutes for my phone.
“Thank you. I’ll probably be working here for part of Thanksgiving.” My voice hitched. “But I hope you have a great place to go, too.”
“I mean it, Blake.” The muscles around his eyes softened. “I always wish the best for you.”
He certainly showed it in his tips. Wish I got to keep them.
A tingle started in the top of my stomach, like a tiny spear of adrenaline. I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I forced a grin and said, “So what’ll it be? The usual?”
He looked a little disappointed at my change of subject. “I was thinking of an omelet, actually.”
“Really?”
He picked up the menu and handed it to me. “Well, no. I thought about it for about two seconds. Then I changed my mind. Yes, the usual, please.”
That I could do with my eyes closed.
I went to the back to put the order in the computer and Carl came up to me again. “Less banter with the customers, more order-taking, got it?”
“Got it.” I did not look up from the computer. When my order was complete, I hurried off to other tables.
The cook called out Eliot’s order. I took the plate and set it on a tray. Suddenly, I had an urge to do something different. Something nice for him.
I grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge under the counter and added a quick snowy white frame around the pancakes. It needed more. I drizzled tiny stripes of chocolate sauce on top. I topped off the pancakes with two whipped cream eyes and a smile.
Grinning, I delivered the goods to Eliot.
“That looks wonderful,” he complimented.
“If you don’t like it, I can remake it,” I said.
“No. It’s great.” He ran a finger through the whipped cream and plopped it in his mouth. “I love it.”
“Good.” I leaned in, risking that he wouldn’t freak out. I didn’t know he was gay, but I suspected. My gaydar had always been on alert with him. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
He smiled up at me. “Yeah?”
“No one gets pancakes like this. Only you.”
He laughed. “I’m flattered.” He nodded at me as if trying to communicate something more he was afraid to say. “Thank you, Blake.”
“You’re welcome.” I bowed to him, a little tease, then left him to eat in peace.
The diner filled up and got busy fast. I only had time to refill Eliot’s coffee and set down the black folder with the check in it. By the time I got back to his table, he was gone, his food mostly eaten.
I picked up the folder and opened it. He always paid in cash. I expected to see extra beyond the bill, but my eyes widened when I saw the amount.
He’d left a twenty for a fifteen-dollar bill, but behind it was another bill. Stiff and new. A hundred. My mouth dropped open.
I glanced about, trying to see if Eliot was still on his way out the door. He always tipped well but this—this was too much. He was nowhere to be seen. Taking a deep breath, I stuffed the folder into my apron pocket and began to clear his table.
The rest of the day went by fast. I barely had time for my lunch break.
When my shift ended, I went to Carl’s office to turn in my receipts and tips. It wasn’t a lot of cash because most people paid by card. But when I handed Carl the cash tips separately along with the hundred, he raised his eyebrows at me.
“What’s this?”
“Tips, sir.”
“Someone tipped you a hundred?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t believe it. No one tips that big.”
“I guess maybe sometimes they do.”
“Are you smart-mouthing me again, boy?”
“No, sir.”
“You found this or something, right? It’s not a tip.” He folded it and put it in his own pocket. “I’m not paying you for that. Unless you want to confess that maybe you’ve been holding out on me all this time.”
I gulped and said nothing. I should have stuck up for myself, but I didn’t want Carl to threaten me again. I needed whatever I could get from this job right now.
Carl did a quick calculation from the other receipts and handed me about thirty bucks. “Your share.”
I quickly pocketed the money. Thirty was better than nothing. I could add it to my rent stash and maybe take five of it and get a burger on the way home. I’d had only a peanut butter sandwich for lunch. Carl didn’t allow his employees to eat diner food on breaks unless they paid for it and that was too much for my budget.
It was just after five o’clock when I stepped outside. The weather had turned, and I shivered in my light sweater, sighing and adjusting my backpack. The wind was already whipping up. It was about a twenty-minute walk home. I did not look forward to it.
Lacey lives in New Mexico with her four critters. She’s a Jill-of-all-trades by day, but loves writing in her spare time. She dabbles in a variety of pairings, but jumped feet-first into the deep end of omegaverse the first time she read it. She loves the play on social expectations and the different ways to express romance.
Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.
Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who write their own rules. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.
And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus stops.
For questions and comments, not restricted to green eyes, bus stops or recipes for traditional English food, you can find Jackie Keswick in all the usual places
H.L Day grew up in the North of England. As a child she was an avid reader, spending lots of time at the local library or escaping into the imaginary worlds created by the books she read. Her grandmother first introduced her to the genre of romance novels, as a teenager, and all the steamy sex they entailed. Naughty Grandma! Romance novels were forgotten for a while when real life got in the way: university, clubbing, work, moving to London, and more work.
When life settled down (slightly) H.L Day stumbled upon the world of m/m romance. She remained content to read other people’s books for a while, before deciding to give it a go herself.
Now, she’s a teacher by day and a writer by night. Actually, that’s not quite true—she’s a teacher by day, procrastinates about writing at night and writes in the school holidays, when she’s not continuing to procrastinate. After all, there’s books to read, places to go, people to see, the gym to visit, films to watch. So many things to do—so few hours to do it in. Every now and again, she musters enough self-discipline to actually get some words onto paper—sometimes they even make sense and are in the right order.
Hi, I'm Wendy and I'm a voracious reader as well as an author.
Currently, I write all male/male romances and am lately focused on omegaverse. For many years mm has been my first love.
The stories of my characters rattle around in my brain until I have to write them down or lose sleep!
All my books are available in Kindle Unlimited. Happy reading!
Jackie Keswick
Ice Palace Prince by Lacey Daize
A Box of Wishes by Jackie Keswick
Two Soldiers for Christmas by Aurora Crane
Blake by Wendy Rathbone
