The Christmas Deal

“I’m sure it’s all wonderful. Thank you again.”

The sitting room now held two wingback chairs by the window with a small table between them, a glass coffee table separating a new beige couch that had been in stock at one of the local stores. The area rug was a fluffy white, navy, and tan.

These items had been delivered the day before, and it was nice to have the space filled. Seth honestly wouldn’t really use the room much, but the back of the couch served as a good separator between the front room and the kitchen.

A ceramic Christmas tree lit with golden lights now sat on the table between the chairs, a real pinecone and fir candle arrangement on the coffee table, red holly berries bright and cheerful. Seth had to touch the berries to see if they were real since the plastic was so convincing.

On the new dining table off to the right beside the kitchen, there was a similar holiday centerpiece. It suited the big rustic table, and Seth found himself smiling.

“The chairs really do fit well, don’t you think?” he asked Logan, heat rippling through him as he remembered standing in front of the store window, Logan’s hand on his rear and that sexy whisper…

“Imagine I’m saying something really dirty.”

Logan’s father was right there, and Seth was officially out of control. He didn’t even hear Logan’s reply, but assumed it was an agreement. The wine rack had been built into one end of the island, a criss-cross of wood painted white that matched the cabinets perfectly.

“Wow,” Seth breathed. “You built this?”

Logan shrugged. “Sure. Pop told me what to do. You’ve lost some storage space in the island, but with the cupboards and huge pantry, I don’t think you’ll miss it.”

“This is perfect. Thank you so much.” He turned to Logan’s father. “Mr. Derwood, I’d like to pay you for your consultation.”

“Sure. I’ll stay for dinner and have a steak.”

Seth froze. “Uh…” He glanced at Logan, who seemed equally at a loss for words. First there was Angela to impress, although maybe she’d appreciate the family aspect? But Seth and Logan also had to pretend to be a couple, and what would Logan’s father say about that?

Bill laughed, a rough, rasping bark, his shoulders shaking. “Just messin’ with ya. You don’t want me around at your fancy dinner. Besides, I don’t wanna watch my boy pretendin’ to be a fairy.”

Seth jolted. Wait, when had Bill discovered the plan? He stammered, “Oh, um—I… Well…” He looked to Logan, who shifted uneasily and jammed his hands in his pockets, his neck flushed red.

Logan mumbled, “I didn’t think Jenna was telling you about that part.”

Bill snorted. “Jenny didn’t need to tell me. I’m not deaf. My ears are one of the few things not breakin’ down. You’re all not as clever as you think you are.”

Seth had to chuckle ruefully. He certainly couldn’t argue that point. A line of tension between his shoulder blades made his neck ache, and he rubbed at the nape, wishing he could disappear.

He supposed “fairy” wasn’t the worst thing Bill could have called him. Logan was a wall of tension, and Seth needed to say something, but his tongue felt too thick.

“Look, you seem like a decent fella,” Bill said. “Been real good to my Jenny. And Logan.” He grunted. “None of my business what you get up to. Don’t make sense to me, but…” He grunted again. “In my day, folks didn’t…” He raised weathered hands and lowered them dismissively. “Look, you need to season that grill. Got oil?”

“Uh, yes.” Seth nodded and hurried into the pantry, relieved at the abrupt change of topic. He imagined that in Bill Derwood’s day, most “folks” stayed locked away in the closet. Still, at least the man hadn’t said anything truly hateful. Hadn’t called Seth an abomination.

He fetched his winter gear and headed toward the back of the house, carrying his boots so he didn’t track snow and salt on the floors. He jolted to a stop as he entered the great room. The decorations in the sitting room were nothing compared to the veritable explosion of Christmas here.

“Goodness,” Seth breathed.

Logan had strung colored lights and garlands across the back wall along the metal divider in the arched glass above the sliding doors and blinds. More candle/holly/fir displays sat on the side tables and coffee table, red bows neat and bright.

The pièce de résistance was a massive pine tree standing between the TV and black fireplace, strung with colored lights, garlands, and ornaments, dangling silver icicles making it positively shimmer. A lit silver-gold angel sat atop, and beneath, wrapped presents crowded.

Seth deeply inhaled the fresh, woodsy smell, gazing around in wonder. The room had never seemed so cozy and warm—so much like a home. And suddenly he was blinking back tears.