The Lights on Knockbridge Lane (Garnet Run 3)

Wes stroked his hair and relaxed, pulling the covers over them.

They entwined in the perfect configuration and Adam felt himself start to doze off. He was exhausted.

“Oh, I should warn you,” he managed to get out just before sleep took him. “Gus wakes up very early on Christmas morning.”

He thought maybe Wes said something like That’s okay or I love you, but he wasn’t sure because relaxed in the arms of his beloved, sleep came easily.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Adam

Christmas dawned—well, it didn’t quite dawn anything because before the sun had risen, Adam was pulled from a deep slumber wrapped in Wes’ warm arms by the sound of someone bouncing excitedly outside his door while trying very hard not to make noise.

He nuzzled close to Wes, enjoying his smell for a moment, then, knowing what would happen any second, pressed a kiss to his jaw and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

As if attuned to Adam even in sleep, Wes mumbled a sleepy, “Whatswrongbaby?”

Adam stroked his hair, then slid out of bed and into pajamas. He got back into bed and made sure the covers were completely covering Wes’ gorgeous body.

“Come in, sweetie,” Adam called just as Gus’ control broke, and she cried, “Daddy, it’s Christmassssss!”

Wes jolted awake as Gus flew through the air and landed in the middle of the bed.

“Get up, get up, it’s Christmas!” she crowed, throwing her arms around Adam.

Wes rubbed his eyes as if Adam’s apology had just registered, and slid his clothes on under the covers.

“I’m up,” Adam assured her. “Go into the living room and turn on the tree and we’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay!”

She bounced off the bed and down the hall and strains of a tuneless “It’s Christmas, it’s Christmas” carol grew fainter as she went.

“Um,” Adam said by way of apology.

“Hey. C’mere.”

Adam let himself be gathered back into Wes’ arms.

“Merry Christmas,” Wes said. “I love you.”

It was absolutely, positively, without a doubt, the best Christmas present Adam had ever gotten.

“I love you,” Adam murmured, kissing him.

They dragged themselves out of bed.

“That’s not very cozy,” Adam said, indicating the heavy jeans and sweater Wes had pulled on from the night before. “You could go home and get pajamas if you want? Pajama Christmas. It’s a thing.”

Wes smiled, but hesitated, then shook his head.

“Do you not own pajamas or something?”

“Huh? Oh. Well, I don’t, actually, but it’s not that.”

“What, then?”

“It’s silly.”

Adam tipped Wes’ chin up so he could look into his eyes.

“Say it anyway.”

“I’m afraid if I leave I’ll realize this was a dream and I never came here and you never forgave me and everything will be back like it was.”

“Oh, baby.” Adam pulled him into a hug and stroked his back. “It’s not a dream.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you’d say if it were a dream too,” Wes muttered. Adam couldn’t refute that.

“Okay, well, do you want to borrow something of mine instead? It’ll be a little small but I have sweats and stuff in there.”

“Thanks,” Wes said, pulling off the jeans.

“I’ll see you downstairs.”

“For Christmas,” Wes said, like he was still processing it.

Adam didn’t mind. He’d give Wes every reassurance he needed because Wes had given the same to him.

“Yup, for Christmas with me and Gus and River.”

Adam kissed him and gave his ass a friendly squeeze.

* * *

The tree was twinkling and the TV fire was blazing and Gus was sitting suspiciously innocently on the couch.

Adam narrowed his eyes and her gaze cut over to the tree, but she just smiled.

“How about pancakes?” he asked, and she nodded.

While he was pouring the first one onto the griddle, Wes came downstairs wearing Adam’s clothes.

Adam hadn’t previously known that it was possible for someone to look simultaneously hot, adorable, and ridiculous, but it turned out that it was. Wes had chosen some blue pajama pants with gold stars on them and an old, paint-spattered yellow sweatshirt that Adam had bought from a fundraiser at Gus’ preschool. It said Proud Parent of Little Tyke on it in red.

The pajama pants fit Wes almost like leggings. They were clearly too short, so he’d borrowed some of Adam’s wool socks and pulled them up to his calves. The sweatshirt was tight on him and too short in the arms. The whole effect was of a child that had chosen their own outfit.

Only, you know. Hot. Because Wes.

Adam didn’t mention the outfit because he didn’t want to make Wes uncomfortable—especially knowing his feelings about being looked at. Gus had no such compunction.

“You look so funny!” she said. “Those are Daddy’s clothes.”

“Pajama Christmas. I was told it’s a thing,” Wes said.

Gus high-fived him.

They ate pancakes and Adam made a double-strong pot of coffee, knowing they’d need their energy. They played several more rounds of Uno with Christmas movies in the background, and Gus had Wes take her around the outside of the house to show her all the lights he’d added to the house, bioluminescent and otherwise.