The Christmas Deal
Logan shifted uncomfortably, aware of being watched by everyone in the room. “It’s fine.”
Yes, Logan did grieve Veronica’s death, but he missed the awesome, caring nurse he’d known before it had all gone to crap. And that probably made him a complete shit-brick to not miss her as his wife, but he couldn’t make himself feel something he didn’t. Maybe he was just broken.
Seth said, “You’d be welcome to stay through the holidays and until you can figure out something in the new year.”
“I’d earn my keep.” The thought of taking any charity had Logan defensive.
“Of course!” Seth agreed. “Trust me, there’s plenty of work for you.” He laughed incredulously. “This is completely insane, but maybe it could work?”
“Caper, caper, caper!” Matt chanted, raising a fist in the air.
Jenna bit her lip. “Might take some convincing to get Connor on board.”
Logan grunted. “We’ll deal with that. Things aren’t great at school. I’ll fill you in later.”
“And you know you’re both always welcome at my house,” Jenna insisted. “We’d make it work. It’s not even a question.”
Warm, familiar affection for her flowed through Logan. “I know. But if we could pull this off, maybe it’s not the worst idea ever.”
“Caper, caper, caper,” Matt whispered, pumping his fist again.
Logan looked at Seth, and they shared a laugh. Logan hadn’t imagined smiling on this crappy day, let alone laughing. That little flare of hope burned brighter. The plan was nuts, but it was all he had.
With a rueful smile, Seth asked, “It’s a deal, then? Think you can pretend to be in love with me for a couple weeks?” He held out his hand.
Logan sure as hell didn’t do love with men, but it had to be easy enough to fake. He grasped Seth’s palm firmly. “Deal.”
Chapter Four
The next day after work, Seth made the drive over to the suburb where Logan lived. Apparently neither of them had regained their right minds, and they were actually going to stick with the crazy deal they’d made. Granted, Logan was being evicted and didn’t have much choice. Seth couldn’t exactly back out and leave the guy out in the cold.
Light snow fell in the early darkness after five p.m., and he shivered, turning up the heater. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to northern winters. Where he’d grown up in Georgia, if there was even a hint of a flurry everything ground to a halt. Of course, they didn’t have snow tires down south, and now his SUV was fully equipped for the worst Mother Nature could—and would—throw at him.
So far there was just a dusting of snow over everything, and as Seth turned off the main road and into a residential area, colored Christmas lights gleamed on houses and wrapped around trees, the snow making everything magical. “I’ll be Home for Christmas” played on the radio, and though Seth braced for the pang of longing, it still stole his breath when it hit.
Christmas had always been his favorite time of year, with the lights and music, the smell of fresh cookies baking, and presents under the tree. Friends and family gathered together to celebrate that holy holiday. He’d actually liked going to church around Christmas, singing carols joyfully until his voice was hoarse, no one minding that he couldn’t carry a tune to save his life.
He snapped off the radio. It would definitely be only in his foolish dreams that he would ever be home for Christmas again. He didn’t even own decorations. Brandon had never been keen on celebrating, and after the terrible holiday twelve years ago, it had all seemed poisoned to Seth. Christmas wasn’t for him now.
Following his phone’s directions, Seth turned down a few streets, the houses getting a little more rundown and ramshackle. Number eighty-two was a small bungalow and didn’t have any holiday lights or decorations. He recognized Jenna’s SUV outside and parked behind it, his headlights illuminating the boxes already packed high inside.
Snow crunched under Seth’s boots as he got out and walked up the driveway, keeping his bare hands in his coat pockets. The wind was calm, fat snow drifting down peacefully. However, that peace was broken by the shouts exploding out of the house like the rat-tat-tat of gunfire even though the front door was closed. Seth stood on the stoop, debating whether to knock.
“That’s my shit! Don’t touch anything else!”
Logan’s rough voice rumbled. “I’m only trying to help.”
“You had no right to touch anything of mine!” a young voice screeched. That had to be Connor, the stepson.
“For fuck’s sake, I only packed the clothes hanging in the closet. I could have just moved all your stuff without telling you, but I didn’t want to invade your privacy. Now hurry up, because whatever you don’t get into these boxes in the next half hour is staying behind. You’ve wasted enough time arguing.”