Christmas Delights 3 (53 page)

Looking up, Dain slammed on his brakes in time to stop for a
red light. His entire body vibrated and nausea roiled his gut. Fuck his father
for showing the world what Dain had hidden. Not the gay thing because, after
the accident, everyone knew Dain preferred men, especially his father. No, what
Dain had hidden from the world was the name-calling and punches and kicks and
the real reasons for the black eyes and bruises and broken bones inflicted by
his father over the past ten years. God, he couldn’t even remember the reason
for that first punch at fifteen, delivered an hour after his mother’s burial.
Whatever the reason he must have deserved that hit just as he’d earned every
single one since. He hadn’t told another living soul, handled it all alone with
lie upon lie until they’d become his truths.

A knock on the window startled Dain. The green glow from the
street light illuminated the dash, while red and blue lights swirled around the
inside of Dain’s car.

Damn.

 “Sir, roll down the window.”

Dain scrubbed away the stray tears and hit the button. A
large body bent toward the open window and darkened eyes peered from beneath a
wide brimmed black hat. A strong dimpled chin caught Dain’s attention.

 “Are you aware that you’ve sat through three green lights?”

Nice deep voice, Dane thought, then shook his head.

“License and registration. Where’re you heading?”

“Home,” Dain mumbled. He yanked everything out of the glove
box, but no registration. When he reached into his back pocket for his license,
he groaned.

“I have no clue where my registration is and I left my
wallet at home. I was late for church and...”

The plump round mouth frowned. “Please exit the vehicle.”
Dain obeyed the polite commanding voice. Strong confident men always went
straight to Dain’s groin, and this enormous wall of man was no different.
Taller than Dain’s own six feet, the uniform-clad, mocha-skinned man’s nametag
read “Ramos”; a sheriff’s badge was pinned to his jacket. Kinky sheriff
fantasies filled Dain’s mind as he perused the wide chest, thick waist, and
huge thighs. Tufts of black hair peeked over the top of his shirt collar. Dain
imagined rubbing his skin against that pelt of fur. Christ.

“What’s your name?” That rumbling voice settled over Dain’s
skin. The man could tell him a bedtime story any time.

“Dain Hayes.”

The sheriff cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. A
searching confusion crossed his face but quickly disappeared.

“Where do you go to church, Mr. Hayes?”

“St Joseph’s.” Dain stuffed his cold hands into his coat
pockets.

The sheriff glanced at his watch. “It’s eight forty. Eight
o’clock mass on Christmas Eve runs until nine thirty.”

Dain shrugged while perusing the man from head to toe. Way
to be obvious. “Yeah, it was too crowded.”

The officer’s mouth twitched, breaking the stoniness, and
his eyes brightened. “You went to mass on Christmas Eve and didn’t expect it to
be crowded?”

 “I have poor judgment. Am I in trouble for ignoring a green
light?”

Piercing brown eyes heated Dain’s skin, sending a flush up
his neck. Happy little butterflies bounced about his stomach.

“Did something happen at church?”

The butterflies dropped like lead. Shit, had a do-gooder
turned him in for corrupting good god-fearing folk? Dain rubbed at the migraine
building at the base of his skull. He needed his meds soon or he’d be out of
commission for an entire day. The migraines were a parting gift from the
accident.

“What makes you think something happened at the church?”

Dain was good at playing dumb.

“How did you fall down the stairs/slip in the
shower/break your ribs, Mr. Hayes?

“I don’t know. Just clumsy I guess.”

“You seem upset. I was just wondering if you were okay.” The
concerned gaze puzzled Dain. Maybe he wouldn’t be spending the night in jail,
although wouldn’t that just be the cherry to top off this disastrous night.

 Ah, what the fuck. “My dad was there and we got into a
fight. Actually, he did the fighting and I did the cowering. He pushed me, then
called me a faggot, so I left.” Dain’s voice hadn’t cracked so much since
puberty.

“Are you okay?”

Did the large bear actually growl? Dain avoided looking into
those mesmerizing eyes, which stared right through him.

“Really, I’m good. I need to get home.”

A wry smile crossed the man’s face. “What if I have plans to
frisk you and then cuff you?”

Dain’s eyes widened. That was a line if he’d ever heard one.
Dain smirked. Standing with this gorgeous sheriff in the freezing cold was the
best part of his evening—so far. Despite being all hard edges, inside the man
was a large teddy bear that was quickly eroding the pain and humiliation of the
evening.

Unnerved by his growing attraction, Dain needed to get away
from the temptation. “Am I free to go?”

“No.” There was a glint of amusement in the man’s eyes.

“No?”

A lopsided grin warmed the cold in Dain’s chest. “Have
coffee with me.”

Stunned, Dain managed to utter, “Coffee?”

“Yeah, coffee.” The man resembled an expectant puppy dog. 

Dain crossed his arms. This night might be salvageable.
“Aren’t you on duty?”

“I’m off.”

“Why coffee with me?”

“Because,” he said, leaning closer, “I like you.”

Dain snorted. “You just met me.”

“Yes, I did.”  Dain’s toes curled at the appreciative
once-over from the beefy man.

Dain shoved aside his feelings of foreboding. He could
defeat the annihilating loneliness coloring this holiday with good company, and
the sheriff was nice to look at.

Biting hard on the inside of his cheek, Dain stomped down
the panic and took a leap of faith. “Okay.”

The dazzling smile was worth accepting the offer. The
sheriff extended his hand. “Name’s Jake. Meet me at Millie’s?”

Dain nodded and climbed into his car. As he drove, he
swallowed two migraine pills dry. Hopefully, he’d caught this one in time.

Parking across from the diner, Dain scraped together
something resembling courage. It was just coffee, right? Just coffee with an
attractive man. It didn’t mean anything, and was better than OD'ing on alcohol
and puking out his guts in the toilet. Now, if he didn’t throw up from nerves,
he’d be ahead of the game.

Here goes nothing.

Chapter Two

Dain exited his car and met Jake at the door. Sleigh bells
jangled an annoying tune as they entered the diner. Ducking his head, Dain
hoped no one who’d witnessed his humiliation at the church was there. He slid
as far into the booth as he could. Jake sat across from him and removed his
hat.

In the light, Jake’s deep hazel eyes were brighter and his
mocha skin glowed. The sides of his shorn hair called attention to the mass of
short curly waves on top. Dain imagined holding those soft curls and guiding those
pale pink lips to his cock.
Damn
. He forced himself to look away before
he creamed his pants. When the bells on the door jangled, he ducked his head
again. The shaking of his overworked nerves started again. Soon he’d need meds
just to handle life.

The waitress stepped up to the table. “Hey, Sheriff.”

“Hi Steph.”

Dain jerked back when a hand touched his arm. His heart took
off like a racehorse.
Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Dain?” Jake’s eyebrows pulled together.

Dain saw the look of surprise on the waitress’ face.
“S-Sorry. You scared me.” Unexpected touches still set off the startle response
he’d developed. He was such a pussy sometimes.

“Coffee?” she asked.

 Dain nodded. “Cream, please.”

“Same here, but make mine black.” Jake smiled wide. “Have to
watch my figure,” he said, adding levity to the moment, which was anything but
funny.

With a giggle and a sideways glance at Dain, Steph left
them. The door opened again, the bells grating over his nerves. What if his
father showed up? Nah, they didn’t serve liquor.

Jake leaned forward. “Everything okay?”

With a quick half-smile, Dain leaned back, feigning
relaxation. “Just jumpy. Whole thing with my father.”

Jake chewed on his lower lip, no doubt contemplating the
truth in the response. Then he smiled.

“Good. Thanks for coming out with me.”

That sounded suspiciously like “thanks for going out with
me” and sparks of excitement zapped Dain’s gut. Could Dain treat this as a
date? A date, without the pre-date jitters and worries and concerns that
usually rattled him right up until goodnight when he refused to let the man
come inside. That was too risky.

“Thanks for asking,” Dain said shyly.

Jake grinned full-on. No one had ever gotten to Dain like
this man. Christ, he barely knew him.

 “What do you do, Dain?”

Steph brought their coffees with a smile and left.

Dain stirred the hot liquid. “I work in IT, computer
programming mostly. But right now, I’m freelancing repairs and phone IT. Pretty
diverse.”
Lost my last job because my boss was not only my boyfriend but an
asshole as well.

Jake sipped at his coffee then chuckled. “More than once,
I’ve been tempted to throw my computer against the wall.”

Dain sat forward because, unlike relationships, he excelled
at computers. “About eighty percent of all computer issues are caused by the
user.” When Jake’s eyebrows rose, Dain nodded. “Last week I got a call from a
woman when the “drawer” on her laptop wouldn’t open. She was using her disc
drive to store her damn jewelry.” Jake busted out laughing and Dain joined in.
Damn, it was so good to laugh. The bells on the door chimed and he barely
noticed them.

Jake leaned forward. “I can top that. Two months ago at
Lakeside Putt and Pizza, a kid got his arm stuck up to his shoulder in that
clown’s mouth on the sixth hole—”

“KoKo the killer clown?”

Jake snorted. “Yeah. Apparently, his mother dropped her
wedding ring in there. Don’t ask me how. Anyway, she sent the kid in after it.”

Dain’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit. So, that’s what happened to
KoKo.”

An amused look crossed Jake’s face. “You know a lot about
KoKo.” The wry smile unnerved Dain. The man knew something. “You wouldn’t
happen to know who the Putt and Pizza Champion is would ya, Dain?”

“Ahhh, no.” Dain dropped his forehead onto the palm. Jake’s
warm melodious laugh wrapped around him in a soft cocoon.

 “Nice job, Champ. Three years in a row.”

Dain could feel the heat in his cheeks. “Is that why you
keep looking at me strangely?”

Jake shook his head. “You remind me of someone, not sure
who. When you laugh, it’s like
déjà vu
. And really nice.”

Dain’s cheeks flamed hotter and he pushed his knit cap up on
his forehead, wishing he could remove the heat trap.

 “Are you going to yank my chain for liking mini-golf?” Mick
had hated the game, said real men played golf. Mick was definitely a real man,
especially when he used his fists.

“I don’t go there just for the pizza.”

Dain pursed his lips to prevent his smile. “Sheriff, do you
have a mini-golf fetish?”

Jake leaned back then cocked an eyebrow. Sexy. “I have many
fetishes.”

 Caught in Jake’s lust-filled gaze, Dain covertly pushed at
his throbbing dick. The happy dancing butterflies returned. Jake’s hazel eyes deepened
to a dark chocolate. Dain knew he needed a second date with the appealing man
who laughed deeply, smiled wide, liked mini-golf, and woke long dormant
feelings inside of Dain. When Jake’s pink tongue swiped across his pale lips,
Dain restrained the urge to lunge across the table for a taste. Perhaps a
goodnight kiss was in the cards. His butterflies were ecstatic.

Steph appeared with a pot of coffee and topped them both
off. “Closing at ten tonight,” she said and left. Damn, it was nine-forty.

Jake fidgeted and a flash of emotions crossed his face.

“What’re your plans for Christmas?”

The question threw Dain for a moment. “No plans.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I have no plans with anyone.”

 “You’re going to spend Christmas alone?” Jake gasped as if
Dain had uttered blasphemy.

 Dain shrugged. “Just another day,” he said, wondering how
he might survive the day any less than falling-down drunk. 

 “Come to dinner at my sister’s house. My parents are away,
so dinner’s at her house this year. I don’t want you to be alone.” There was a
slight hint of desperation in his tone.

Was Jake feeling sorry for him?

As if he was a mind reader, Jake added, “My motives are
purely selfish. I want to get to know you better. No pressure. Just dinner. Please.”

Dain’s stomach clenched and tears burned at his eyes. Dinner
with Jake’s sister and her family. People who, if Jake’s demeanor was any
indication, cared for one another, and wanted to be together. A real family
dinner. It had been years since Dain had experienced the comfort and safety of
a family.

You can do
this.
Just say
—

Those damned friggin’ bells again!

“Father Ryan, you picking up the food for tomorrow’s
dinner?” Steph asked.

Dain’s spine stiffened, hands balled in his lap, eyes wide
as he watched Father Ryan walk to the counter.

“Sure am, Steph.”

Blood rushed through Dain’s ears and muffled Jake’s voice.
What if the priest saw Dain and confronted him right in front of Jake about
being at church? Two public floggings in one night would surely destroy him.
Jake touched his forearm and the thrumming subsided. Dain hadn’t even flinched
from the touch.

“Dain, what’s wrong?” 

What was wrong? Reality butting in with constant reminders
of what Dain couldn’t have, wouldn’t have, didn’t deserve was what was wrong.
Tonight, everything he’d lost had returned to mock him.
“You’ll be visited
by three ghosts.”
Fuck, he’d been scrooged! Church, his father, and then
Jake, a guy he could never have. Well, at least Mick, hadn’t shown up, or Dain
might be spending Christmas in the hospital. No, Mick was long gone, but the
remnants of that relationship, as well as his father’s abuse, had damaged Dain.
He was no good for anyone. How could he have forgotten?