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I sat up and allowed my eyes to wander across his naked body. He had one hand behind his head by then, while one of his legs was haphazardly draped over one of mine and the other hanging over the edge of the couch. His balls hung below his spent, but still swollen, cock. He was stunning to look at, and sexy as all hell. A nasty-acting little boy who was wrapped up in a beautiful package of innocent qualities. What a contradiction my baby boy was.
I was in love like never before, knowing he could inflict the worst sort of pain if he didn’t love me back. But every time that thought entered my head, I dug deep and recalled the words he often spoke to me.
“Love me well, and I will love you twice as much in return.” He’d spoken those words to me a dozen or more times.
I had finally begun believing him.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE: Chad
“Where do you want it, Mom?” I asked, dropping the ten-foot-tall Christmas tree in the foyer.
“What do you think, honey? The rec room or formal living room?” she answered with a question of her own.
“More guests will see the tree in the rec room,” I replied. “Let’s put it there.”
Mom agreed, so I dragged the massive thing across her hardwoods, Dad grimacing the entire time. “You could help,” I pointed out, watching his pained expression.
“And then what? Get in the way of you and Mom regarding any Christmas decisions that I have no vote on?” he asked. “Not a chance, kiddo.”
Dad was right. Christmas belonged to me, the Christmas baby, born on the same day as Jesus. I’d been the go-to holiday planner in our house since I was around twelve, after Mom gave up trying to please me with her underwhelming trees and decorations.
I’d picked their tree up on my way home from working at the food truck, knowing that neither of them would if I didn’t. I’d relocated my business to a parking lot in Old Town where the year-round trucks still did business after the summer tourists and beachgoers left town. Our winter menu consisted of warm grain bowls and healthy soups with root vegetables and organic breads. We weren’t as busy as in the summer, but I was still making decent money.
“No Cole today?” Mom asked, backing away from me and the tree as I balanced it in the tree holder while Mom moved her hand this way and that, figuring out what side she liked best.
“He’s in New York City until the twenty-fourth,” I answered, flopping onto the couch. “Work trip and then home in time for Christmas Eve and all of our guests.” I motioned to Dad. “Remember Dad was going to go but Cole didn’t want him missing family obligations?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Mom gave me a thoughtful glance. “I, for one, think you inviting Clint for the weekend was a lovely idea, son,” she stated. “Very mature—on both of your parts.”
“Clint has no one aside from a few friends. All of whom will be here with us,” I said, turning to my father, who was still scowling over small scratches in the hardwood. “With Perry and Lucas in your guest house and Marla in ours, I haven’t figured out where Clint will stay yet.”
“He can bunk in our basement, if need be,” Dad chimed in. “It’s not like I hate him,” he added, in case I assumed he was still upset about the note.
“Hush, Alex,” she said. “He will not be in any basement on Christmas. Clint can have the guest room upstairs if you need it, son,” Mom corrected, glaring at my father.
I’d already made sure that Clint was welcome for the holidays in Cole’s home, and he assured me he was, but overnight, and for a long weekend? I’d feel him out when he returned from the city.
My father headed for his office, leaving Mom and me alone to decorate the tree. I looked at her to tell Dad he could help. “Dad will be fine,” she said, sitting next to me so we could admire the Noble Fir. “He’s still upset that after all you did for Clint, he leaves you with only a note left behind.”
“We’re past that, Mom.”
“I can see that you are, honey,” she said, resting her hand on my thigh and squeezing. I glanced at her hand and then her face. “What?” she asked, interpreting that I suspected she had something additional to share.
“What does that mean?” I asked. “You can see that I am past what?”
“Your father and I are simply wondering how you and Cole are doing, honey,” she explained. “You’re living there full time now. Your business is good. You seem happier and settled again. And more like your old self.”
“All that is true,” I agreed. “But I hear a question or a but, Mom.”
“Cole is mature, honey. That’s all I mean,” she said. “He seems more likely to want to settle down now that he’s been single for… what did he say, three years now?”
“Almost four,” I responded slowly. “And?”
“And you for less than a year.”
“Get to your point, Mother,” I stated, twisting around and scooching to the far end of the couch so I could face her directly. “You obviously have something you want to share, or maybe you and Dad want to share. I noticed he ran off and hid in the office.”
My folks were as predictable as the sun rising. Keep a distance wide enough for me to grow and solve my own issues, but make sure I knew that they still watched me carefully. I could see the concern on her face and Dad’s hasty departure only added evidence that they had questions.
