Christmas Delights 3 (17 page)

When he glanced down to see the mistletoe bunch in pieces on
the floor he frowned. It didn’t look like it had just fallen in one place, it
appeared spread out and…torn…a couple of the white berries were squashed. Had
he just done that when he stepped on them?
Fuck.
Suddenly, with absolute
clarity, he knew what had happened.

“Jason!” He slip-slid his way around the corner to where
Deefur lay and Jason was fussing with him. “He’s eaten the stuff, the things,
the kissing stuff.”

Jason stumbled to stand. “What?”

“The mistletoe, I think he’s…” Cameron fell to his knees
next to Deefur. “Jesus. Fuck. Is it poisonous? What do we do?” Cameron prized
open Deefur’s mouth, like that was going to do any good, whatever Deefur ate
spent a few seconds in his mouth and was more than likely swallowed whole.

“The vet. We should take him? Phone them, I’ve seen this
before, he’s a big dog, he’ll be fine.” Jason’s voice was fractured and he
appeared to be recalling information in small pieces. He volunteered at a dog
sanctuary, that was how he and Cameron had met, but he wasn’t a vet. “Wait here,”
he ordered. He left and came back immediately with a phone and dialed a number.

“Jason?”

Jason managed to speak relatively clearly, if a little
panicked. “I have a Great Dane, we think he’s eaten mistletoe. No sickness, but
he’s whining and lethargic… I can…we can be there in twenty.” Jason glanced
down at Deefur. “We just need to get him in the car.” He hung up. “Veterinarian
said he was there and we could take him, that we’re not worry, and that he’ll
just need checking over.”

“You get Emma, I’ll see if I can get Deefur into the car.”

Jason shook his head. “I’ll ask Maureen next door to watch
her.”

“On Christmas Eve?” Cameron said doubtfully. Then as he
followed the thought process to its end, he nodded as he had reached the same
conclusion as Jason. “Okay, see if she’ll come over.”

Jason left at a sprint to the front door and out into the
snowy night. The swirl of snow that entered the house as he left was enough to
remind Cameron of just what they were facing to get to the vet’s. The place was
only a five minute drive—they normally walked for his injections and checkups.
Maybe Deefur would walk?

“C’mon, Deefur, let’s get you standing up.” He tried to get
Deefur up, and after a few tugs the huge weight of dog was finally on all paws.
He looked okay, if a little sad and droopy eyed, and his nose was dry. Slipping
on sneakers, Cameron backed out of the hall and toward the door from the
kitchen to the garage. Slowly Deefur went with him, and after some persuasion
the Great Dane was on the back seat lying down with his nose buried in his
paws. There was no way Cameron was fighting to get him into his usual place in
the trunk. Jason clattered down the steps.

“Maureen is upstairs with Emma,” he summarized.

Cameron glanced up the stairs at the sliver of light from
the kitchen. “You’re sure?”

“She’s fine. Let’s go.”

Irritation sparked in Cameron. Jason was acting like Emma
wasn’t as important as a dog. Then he saw Jason’s tortured expression and knew
he was wrong. So much for a quiet romantic Christmas Eve snuggle on the sofa.

“I’ll drive,” Cameron announced. He could admit to himself
he was a giant control freak and Jason knew that. If there was ice or snow or
rain or hell, it was windy, then Cameron drove. They backed out onto the road
as slowly as they could. The last thing they needed was to be stranded in the
snowy roads outside their own damn front door.

Carefully Cameron made his way to the veterinarian, and it
took way longer than the few minutes it should have. Way more. Cameron didn’t
recognize the man in scrubs who was looking out of the window—it certainly
wasn’t his normal veterinarian—probably some kind of cover for Christmas. In a
flurry of motion and much faster than Cameron imagined, Deefur was in the
examination room, his bulk lying on a floor-level bed that the vet cranked up
carefully.

Cameron and Jason were ushered out of the room and suddenly
it was just the two of them in the outer waiting area.

“What if he dies?” Cameron said in a dead voice.

“He won’t die,” Jason said immediately.

“How can you be sure of that?” Cameron challenged. Jason
didn’t answer, and Cameron twisted his fingers in his hair. “How could we even
have that stuff in the house?” The words just tumbled out and they sounded like
an accusation. He didn’t mean them to; this wasn’t Jason’s fault. He quickly
looked at Jason expecting to see devastation at the words, instead all he saw
was compassion and fear on Jason’s beautiful face. Why didn’t Jason call
Cameron on this? How could Jason stand there and allow Cameron to say something
so awful? What kind of man was Cameron to even say something like that?

“I’m so sorry,” Jason murmured. “It’s all my fault.”

Cameron gripped his arm. “Bullshit,” he said firmly. “I’m
the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean any of that.”

“You’re right, though, I should have read up on what could
hurt a dog and not had it in the house.”

“You didn’t know the damn stuff would fall down.”

“But he’s the last link you have to your husband, the man
you love. Deefur was Mark’s dog. Hell”—Jason yanked his arm free of Cameron’s
hold—“if he dies how the hell will you ever get that connection back?”

Jason slumped in the nearest seat, and Cameron sat opposite
him as he processed what Jason had said. Was that really what he thought? That
Deefur was Mark’s dog? That Mark was still the man he loved?

“Jason?” He opened his mouth to ask all the questions that
were on the tip of his tongue, but an assistant arrived with a clipboard.

“Can I get a signature and a few details?”

“He’s in your computer,” Cameron said tiredly.

“And our computers are updating software and down for the
next four hour.” She shrugged in apology. “Christmas Eve is normally quiet,”
she added. “So if I can take your dog’s information.”

The process took a good fifteen minutes, and Cameron didn’t
fail to notice it was Jason who knew the most about Deefur, from his diet to
his toilet habits and the routes they took for walks. All of it was information
that Cameron didn’t have to know, because Jason was the other half of this
couple who tried their hardest to raise a daughter, deal with a dog who had a
personality the size of a building, and keep on top of everything like their
own careers. They were a team. When the assistant left, saying blood was being
taken and that the results would be back shortly, Jason was suddenly silent.
Cameron knew he had to fix this even though his stomach churned with fear for
Deefur. He rose and sat next to Jason, then very deliberately took his hand.

“No one is to blame for this,” Cameron began carefully.
“Deefur is a menace with the way he eats everything in sight. We know that.”

Jason squeezed his hand. “I know,” he said softly. “I didn’t
mean to overreact.”

“And the other bit, about Mark, we need to talk.”

Jason nodded. “I get it,” he said. “If I was married to
someone and they had to go like he did, I am not sure I would have survived
like you did.”

“It was a long time ago now. Mark will always have a place
in my heart, all caught up and entwined with Emma and Deefur.” Cameron huffed a
laugh. “But it’s a small part now. I have you, and a new life, and I never
thought I would ever be as lucky again. Deefur isn’t
just
Mark’s dog,
any more than Emma is only
my
daughter.”

“I love you too,” Jason laced his fingers with Cameron’s.

“And we’ll talk when we get home?”

“Home,” Jason confirmed.

The veterinarian came out to them with a smile on his face.
Both Cameron and Jason stood. Just that smile was enough for the stress to
slide away from him. “I’ve done a blood draw,” he announced. “The blood work
all came back in the normal reference ranges. There’s no signs of toxicity.
Looks like Deefur just has an upset tummy, and given he was just sick all over
the floor, I’m guessing that too will pass.”

“So we can take him home?” Jason asked.

“You can. My assistant will give you a leaflet, but you
should look for lethargy, gastrointestinal upset such as vomiting or loss of
appetite. Any problems come straight back.”

They collected Deefur, who quite the opposite of ill looked
like a damn huge puppy, all bouncy and bright-eyed. His nose was even wet.
Looked like vomiting on the floor of the examination room was actually a good
thing. He even jumped into the crate in the back of the car, and after a
careful drive home they were finally able to thank Maureen profusely, promising
her chocolates, then shutting the door on the world. Deefur immediately went to
his bowl, nosing it around the kitchen and finally giving in, resigned to just
having a full water bowl. With a groan and a grunt and a huff of displeasure,
Deefur curled nose to tail on his bed.

“You want that hot chocolate?” Cameron asked.

“God, please. I’ll check in on Emma and meet you in the
front room.”

Cameron followed him to check on Emma, then made chocolate
and carried it in to the room. He placed the two mugs on the small table in
front of the sofas, then dimmed the lights and settled in next to Jason.

“So, you said you wanted to talk,” Jason began. He moved on
the sofa so he could face Cameron, and the changing lights on the tree cast an
eerie glow about his lover’s face. “We can talk now, while Emma is asleep.”

“I’ve been so unfair to you,” Cameron said gently. “I
realize that. Every day when I leave Emma with you, and when Deefur is walked,
and dinner is cooked, it’s as if you have come into my life and grounded me,
made me happier. Then today, coming home, with the ice and the snow, all I
could think of was the absolute fear of what I lost happening again.”

Jason reached out and grasped his hand. “I love you, Cam. You
won’t lose Emma.”

“Or you? Can you promise me you won’t leave me?”

Jason looked thoughtful and tilted his head. “I can’t
promise that, Cam. We all have to die someday.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Cam said immediately. Of course that
was what Jason would think he meant—it wasn’t as if he had been specific in
what he was trying to explain. “I meant, please stay here, forever, with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jason replied. He looked at
Cameron, then frowned. “Are you okay?”

“I should tell you every day how much I love you. I want to
move.” Cameron inhaled sharply as he spoke the words that all rolled into one.
He wanted to move house. The truth had been staring him in the face for so
long: he wanted new.

“You do tell me every day, and you want to move?” Jason
summarized, seemingly confused.

“I want to start fresh with you where you can be sure that
Deefur is our dog, and Emma is our daughter, and you never have to wonder if
you are singularly the most important man in my life.”

Jason opened his mouth to say something, then shut it just
as quickly. He reached for his mug, apparently as a delaying tactic, and took a
healthy gulp of chocolate. When he moved the mug away from his mouth, he had a
perfect creamy moustache and his lips looked damp and inviting. With a swift
move, Cameron tasted the cream and pushed his way inside Jason’s mouth. He
heard the
oomph
from Jason and hoped he hadn’t been the cause of a mug
of spilled chocolate all down Jason’s front. They kissed and somehow Jason
maneuvered them until they lay side by side on the sofa. What he had done with
the chocolate Cameron didn’t know.

“We don’t have to move,” Jason said softly. “I love it here,
and it’s Emma’s home.”

“But I need you to realize I’m not lost in the past, that
I’m here for you, and I want a future.”

“I already do. Cam, you’re scaring me. A home isn’t a house,
it’s in the heart, and I love my home.”

“Marry me, Jason.” Cameron wriggled until he had the box out
of his pocket, and then he handed it to Jason. He’d wanted soft lighting,
music, wine, and to be on his knees for this. Well one out of four wasn’t bad,
he guessed.

Jason awkwardly opened the small box because one of his arms
was trapped under Cameron. His eyes widened when he saw the identical platinum
bands nestled in the velvet and silk inside. He moved the box a little so more
of the tree light fell on them.

“They’re beautiful,” he whispered.

“I asked Emma if it was okay for us to marry you.”

Jason lifted his gaze to Cameron; his eyes looked
suspiciously bright. “What did she say?”

“Yes. Say yes to me as well, Jason.”

Jason blinked. “Yes. God, yes.”

They embraced and talked until finally Cameron slid off the
sofa and held out a hand to Jason. “Let’s go to bed,” he said softly. “We can
talk more there.”

They stopped by Deefur, who raised his head like he was
questioning why two of his humans were still up this late.

Jason turned to Cameron. “I know we said we’d never let him
sleep in our room, but I want to keep an eye on him, in case he needs us.”

“Yes” was all Cameron said.

Deefur trotted after them and was probably as confused as
hell. Of course Cameron didn’t count on Deefur wanting up on the bed. But when
he climbed up, looking suitably pathetic with big brown puppy eyes, who could
tell him off? Cameron and Jason soon realized there wasn’t much room for two
men and a Great Dane, even on a queen bed.

Which is how Cameron and Jason, newly engaged and planning a
wedding in the summer, ended up sleeping back out on the sofa and took it in
turns to check on Deefur.

And how Deefur, after the great mistletoe incident, ended up
with the best bed in the house.

THE END

RJ Scott

RJ Scott lives just outside London.
She has been writing since age six, when she was made to stay in at lunchtime
for an infraction involving cookies and was told to write a story. Two sides of
A4 about a trapped princess later, a lover of writing was born. She loves
reading anything from thrillers to sci-fi to horror; however, her first real
love will always be the world of romance. Her goal is to write stories with a
heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and more than a hint of
happily ever after.