Gabriel had the determined look in his eye too. “You do realize if this works, the next step is to make those false fronts full-on remodels. Logan can become a
real
Christmas village. Do it right, and it could be one all year long.”
A vision bloomed in Paul’s head. “We need to build Santa’s house. For this year we could turn the gazebo into something, but next year…”
For the next few hours, their plans flew like lightning. Paul tended to sit back and listen, absorbing and thinking before interjecting an idea or pointing out a flaw someone had missed. Marcus did much the same, and in his own way, so did Gabriel. Kyle, Arthur and Frankie dreamed big, and the rest of them built castles under them as fast as possible.
Marcus got out a legal pad and began making notes about people he needed to call, permits they needed to square away. Frankie wanted Corrina to talk to the woman who had made Gabriel’s and Arthur’s costumes from the year before about ordering traditional Scandinavian clothes for as many people as possible—even something as simple as hats. As they broke into the cupcakes and had more coffee and cider, Kyle said he and his mother could sew anything as soon as they had a pattern, and one of his sisters-in-law could help too. Kyle also took on the task of designing a flyer, which Marcus would distribute locally, regionally and in the Twin Cities as soon as the full program was approved and locked down. The room buzzed with plans and pleasure and potential.
But when Paul rose to get a second cupcake, he glanced outside, saw how dark it was and checked the clock on the wall. “Kyle, what time did you say you had to leave again?”
Kyle glanced at his phone and pushed to his feet. “Oh no. I need to go. I’m so sorry.”
They made their hasty goodbyes. Kyle refused to take the extra cupcakes, and they hurried to the truck.
“I love my job.” Kyle huddled, tucking his mittened hands between his thighs as Paul started the car. “But times like this I also hate it.”
Paul could understand. He also noticed Kyle had barely enough time to toss on scrubs and get to work. They’d just eaten, but would he be hungry later? Should he drive, as tired as he was going to be? At three in the morning?
Kyle’s groan interrupted his woolgathering, and when Paul asked what was wrong, Kyle held up his phone. “Snow again tonight. Another seven inches, then blowing snow all day tomorrow. Due to start right in the middle of my shift. I’m going to have to pack a bag and sleep in the lobby until my dad can come get me with the tractor in the morning. And I’m going to have to ask him to stop chores and take me in tonight so my car’s not stuck in town. I bought a Ski-Doo for just this moment, but I’m not driving it in the middle of the night, especially when I’m so tired.”
The worry in Paul’s gut stopped expanding and exploded into a decision. “I’ll take you in. And I’ll pick you up too.”
Kyle put his phone down and turned to Paul, his expression unreadable. “You’ll pick me up? At three in the morning? And take me home in the middle of a blizzard?”
Paul shoved his nerves aside, telling himself this wasn’t about a fantasy. This was practical help for a friend. “Yes, I’ll pick you up at the end of your shift, and I’ll take you home. To my house.”
He could feel Kyle staring at him. He braced himself for a
you don’t have to do that
or
I don’t want to put you out
, and he got ready to argue his case. Only silence reigned, though, until Kyle finally said, “Okay.”
“Okay,” Paul echoed. Though privately he wondered why the simple capitulation put nervous butterflies in his stomach.
Kyle wasn’t sure how to explain to his mom he was, for lack of a better term, sleeping over with Paul once he was done with his shift. Frankly, he barely understood what was happening. Was this a come-on? Were they friends now?
What was he supposed to pack in his overnight bag?
By the time they got to the house he had twenty minutes to throw a few things together and get to town. He emerged with his bag to talk to his mother, but it turned out Paul had done the explaining for him.
“That’s so nice of Paul to give you a place to stay.” She handed Kyle a soft-sided lunch tote and his thermos. “If it’s bad, don’t rush home. Stay tomorrow night too.”
He couldn’t decide if her sending him off to stay overnight with another gay man so easily came out of eagerness to hook him up, a desire to keep him safe from a snowstorm or a sense of surety Paul would never make a move. He decided not to think about it too much. “I’m pretty much assuming I’ll get called in to work tomorrow night. Which sucks, because I really need my day off.” Kyle yawned, further punctuating his point.
His mother pursed her lips, but after glancing at the clock, she kissed him on the cheek. “You’d better get going.”
Kyle craned his neck toward the TV room. “I didn’t say goodbye to Linda Kay or let her know where I’ll be.”
“Don’t. She’ll be upset and she’ll delay you. Let me deal with it.”
Kyle hated the idea, but she was right. He kissed her back, hugged her and turned to Paul.
Paul had hovered near the fridge, but when Kyle approached, he pushed off and pulled his hands out of his coat pockets, holding them out to accept the things in Kyle’s hands. “Ready to go?”
“Ready as I get.” Kyle didn’t need Paul to take his lunch and tea thermos, but he didn’t argue because it was nice to be cared for. “I really appreciate this. Do you want me to drive so you don’t have to come get me in the middle of the night?”
“I don’t mind coming to get you.”
“It’ll be at three in the morning, remember.”
“That’s fine.”
Okay then.
Kyle followed him to the truck, letting Paul stow his bag behind the front seat with the rest of Kyle’s things. He yawned again as he climbed into the front seat. Paul frowned at him. “We should have put off the meeting with the guys.”
Kyle shook his head. “I’ll push through. Though I warn you, I’ll pretty much face-plant when this is over.”
“Understood.” Paul turned onto the road leading to town.
It was crazy in the way work was before a major storm—half the staff worried about how they’d get home, and the manager ran around trying to find people to cover the shifts of nurses and aides who couldn’t make it in during the storm. Kyle ended up with a 3 to 11 shift on Monday, as predicted. The good news was he’d have the two days after free instead, and therefore a faux weekend in the middle of the week.
By eleven the snow had started, and by midnight it came down in sheets. The wind had picked up as well, and soon the windows on either side of the doors were whited out with blowing snow. At first the blizzard was enough excitement to keep Kyle distracted, but by midnight he swayed on his feet. When he took his break, sipping tea from his thermos and eating the sandwich his mother had made him, he thumbed through his phone, hoping for a text from Paul even though he knew he wouldn’t get one. He did have a text from Corrina.
Don’t sleep with him tonight, and remember the movies.
Kyle grimaced at the screen before deleting the message. He’d sleep with Paul in a hot second, no matter what she said, except he was pretty sure once his shift was done he’d be too tired to get it up, even for Paul. He did wonder if the whole town knew he was staying at Paul’s place.
Then he remembered Corrina was Logan’s biggest gossip, so if the town hadn’t known, they would now.
Taking a break had been a mistake, as now all he wanted to do was sleep, and he had hours to go. Trina, the aide working with him at the nurses’ station, did her best to keep him awake, chatting with him about workplace dish and musing over what she might get her boyfriend for Christmas. “I don’t know what to get exactly. We haven’t dated long, and I’m pretty sure he’s not The One. He’s more The One Who Is Handy Right Now.”
Kyle swallowed a yawn and shrugged. “What’s he into?”
“I don’t know. Hunting? But I don’t know what kind of hunting stuff to get him and what message that sends.”
Kyle didn’t know either. “Ask him, maybe.”
Trina said she couldn’t possibly, and Kyle began to tune her out, wondering what he’d get Paul if they were boyfriends.
It was a harder question than it should have been. Cologne, maybe, but he didn’t know what kind. He didn’t know what movie either, except the horrible Christmas romances, which he’d do over his dead body.
Maybe a knitted hat? Was that too weird? It might be, but the idea, once lodged in Kyle’s head, wouldn’t let go. He’d make one of the fleece-lined ones, with a dark variegated wool for the outside. A scarf and mittens to match, but not too closely. He mentally indexed his yarn stash for likely candidates and scoured Ravelry after he helped set up the morning med trays.
While the imaginary gift hat felt perfect in theory, dreaming it up led Kyle into an unexpected musing on what Gabriel had asked him. Why was he so caught up in Paul in the first place? Was Paul, like Trina’s boyfriend, The One Who Was Handy Right Now?
The thought worried Kyle, though it also roused his stubborn streak, made him want to vigorously defend his attraction. Paul wasn’t simply handy. He was…hot. Sweet. Sexy. Kind.
Also, he was local. That didn’t mean
handy
, it meant
similar values.
They were both determined to stay in Logan, with their roots.
Except as the shift wore on, Kyle wondered. Was Paul not actually staying because he was determined to? Was he more stuck? Kyle wanted to say no, because why would he have a business if he didn’t
want
to stay. It made sense, and it might be true.
The problem was Kyle didn’t
know
any of this was right. He didn’t
know
anything about Paul, outside of his address and his Grindr handle and the thing about peanut butter and chocolate. He had Corrina’s cheat sheet, which would tell him a lot, but he hadn’t even looked at it, afraid it would be full of more stuff like the movies.
Which was stupid, really. It meant he
was
imagining Paul to be someone he wasn’t, or at least hoping he remained Kyle’s dream man, not a real man.
At 2:50 a.m. the door buzzer sounded, Paul swept into the vestibule, and Kyle’s heart skipped a beat. Coated with blown snow, Paul glittered with ice crystals from head to toe as he stomped off his boots and shook off his gloves and hat. The gloves were thick workman’s suede, but the hat was ratty and awful.
Paul, however, was as handsome and glorious as ever. His beard and mustache shifted as he lifted one side of his mouth in a self-conscious smile at Kyle as he came out from the nurses’ station. “Sorry I’m early. It wasn’t as hard as I thought to get here.”
All worries about whether or not he was approaching this potential relationship for the right reasons fled his thoughts, because when the man himself was in Kyle’s line of sight, he had no doubts whatsoever. “It’s okay. I’m just about done.”
Trina stuck her head out from behind the med cabinet. “You go on. I’ve got this under control.”
Kyle wanted to kiss her. “Are you sure?”
“Ann will be back from rounds in a second anyway. Go on. Get some rest, because something tells me tomorrow night is going to be a real party.”
Kyle blew her a kiss and hurried to the break room to grab his jacket. It was a pretty bright blue with yellow piping, complemented with the bright orange scarf and hat he’d made himself out of worsted Merino. His gloves were a combination of the blue, yellow and orange, double knit for an extra layer of warmth. Which he very much appreciated as he pushed open the door to the care center and got hit with the biting cold of the blizzard’s wind.
It was beautiful outside, though. The air was blasted with white, whorls of wind visible because of the ice crystals it carried. The storm was just getting started, but it was already powerful enough to shut down the town. They had to fight their way to Paul’s truck, and once inside, they both exhaled in relief, as if they’d scaled a mountain, not crossed a parking lot.
“I have the house stocked,” Paul said as they put on their seat belts. He hadn’t turned the truck off, so it was cozy warm inside. “I have a generator too, if we lose power. Won’t let us run everything, but it will keep the duplex’s heat on.”
“We have one too, but mostly Dad uses it for the farm. If we lose power, we use the wood stove. Sometimes he’ll hook the generator up long enough for lunch or to run some hot water through the pipes.” Kyle rubbed his gloved hands together in front of the heat vent as he stole a glance at Paul. When he caught the man looking at him, he smiled. “Thanks again for letting me stay.”
Paul blushed. “No problem.”
The drive to Paul’s house wasn’t terrible, but this was largely because they only had to turn down a few side streets and then head over on Main. Paul frowned. “This is already more drifted than when I came to get you.” He glanced at Kyle. “Did I hear you say you have to work tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, unfortunately. No one else lives close enough to town.” He stopped. “Oh. I, ah, guess I need to ask you for another ride to work. Sorry.”
“Not a problem.” He shifted his hands on the wheel. “You can stay again tomorrow night, if the weather’s still bad.”
God, the man was cute when he blushed. “Thanks.”
They reached Paul’s house, and conversation stopped as they climbed out of the vehicle and made a beeline for the door. Kyle huddled to the side until Paul joined him, unwilling to go inside without his host. Paul held the door open and ushered him in, and they unbundled together in the warmth of the mudroom, stomping boots and hanging up gear. Once that was done, they headed into the kitchen and stood awkwardly together.
“Do you want something to eat or drink before you go to sleep?” Paul gestured to the fridge. “I got you some hard cider, but I can make cocoa too. I have ham for sandwiches, and some deer sausage.”
Kyle had been about to insist he wasn’t hungry or thirsty, but he wasn’t sure how to behave, and a beverage might be a good buffer. “Cocoa sounds great. Thank you. Can I help you make it?”
“No, I’m fine. You go get yourself ready for bed. Bathroom’s just off the bedroom.”