Page 25 of The Christmas Accomplice

Chapter 6

Reece entered his apartment and dropped his keys in a ceramic bowl on the narrow table inside the door, then said, “Hey honey, I’m home.”

The automated scenario on his home network hub switched on the lights of his Christmas tree in a corner of the living room, a table lamp kitty corner from the tree at fifty percent brightness, as well as the bedside lamp in his bedroom down the hall. Christmas music started playing at a soft volume from a Bluetooth speaker near his large screen TV. He kicked off his boots, placing them on the rubber mat snugged against the baseboard, hung his parka on a hook above, then shrugged out of his sport coat as he walked down the hall to his bedroom.

Thoughts of Welton floated through his mind, seemingly carried along by Michael Bublé singing “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.” His time spent working with Welton on the sound setup had stayed with him all day, and now that he was home and alone, all his love-starved brain seemed to want to focus on was their dance and the almost-kiss.

He’d felt it, too. You could see it clearly in his face.

He stripped out of his work clothes and got into the shower, thinking about Welton. The way it had felt to have Welton in his arms. How their hands had seemed so natural clasped together. Not to mention the high voltage shock that had gone through him when he’d realized Welton also had an erection.

What would Welton’s body be like under all those clothes? Toned, definitely. Reece could tell that from holding him close. And pale, an obvious fact from the skin he could see. But what about body hair? From the hair Reece had noticed along Welton’s forearms when he’d pushed up his sleeves, he figured it was a good possibility. It would probably be light brown, like his somewhat unruly hair that made him even more adorable.

The thought of Welton stretched out naked beneath him, pale skin covered with soft fur, got Reece’s cock begging for attention. He lathered up and took hold of himself, closing his eyes and imagining what would have happened if his radio hadn’t interrupted their dance. He came quickly, grunting with each pulse. The orgasm had taken some of the edge off his mood, and he shook his head at how quickly he’d climaxed. It was like he was a teenager all over again, and that ship had sailed over a decade ago.

Finishing up in the shower, Reece dried off and put on flannel sleep pants, wool socks, and a long-sleeved Henley then headed to the kitchen to make dinner.

As he pan-seared a couple of chicken breasts, his phone dinged from the charging stand with a text message alert. It was Nick, begging him to meet her at a bar in town and save her from all the ski bums and horny holiday daddies hitting on her.

He took a picture of the chicken breasts and sent it to her, along with the message, No thanks. Working on breasts of my own right now.

Her response came back almost immediately. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.

Reece smiled and added more rice to the steamer before getting it started. Eleven minutes later, the intercom buzzed, and Reece pressed the button.

“Sorry, your ten minute window has elapsed.”

“Come on!” Nick whined back. “I hit every red light and couldn’t find a place to park in your teeny tiny visitor lot. And it’s freezing out here. Lemme in. Pwease?”

He pressed the door release quick, too fast for her to be able to get it. She retaliated with a long, angry sounding buzz, and he laughed before pressing the door release a bit longer this time. After opening the apartment door a few inches, he returned to the kitchen just as the rice steamer switched off.

Nick arrived, already talking. “Your problem is, you think you’re a funny person and yet, to those around you, you are not.”

He heard the rustle of her parka coming off, followed by the clunk of her shoes onto the mat. She entered the small space of the kitchen, sliding past him to open the fridge.

“Your breasts smell good,” she said, looking over the contents of the refrigerator. “Please tell me you have a nice chardonnay or pinot grigio to go with dinner.”

“I have both, in the door.”

“Ah, and my brand, too. You’re such a sweetheart.”

She grabbed two wineglasses from the cupboard and gave them each a generous pour. Then she rounded the kitchen counter that looked out on the living room and perched herself on a stool on the other side.

“How was the rest of your day?” He heard her take a drink, then smack her lips and let out a quiet, breathy, “Ahh,” before continuing. “We were so busy at the desk, we didn’t get much of a chance to talk.”

“Yeah, that was a crazy rush.” He plated both chicken breasts, then added a scoop of rice to each along with a few small stalks of broccoli he’d steamed with the rice. “Dinner is served.”

Nick smiled and clapped her hands quietly. “Hooray! Thanks for inviting me over for dinner.”

“Technically I didn’t invite you,” Reece said as he carried the plates out of the kitchen to the table in front of the couch. “You invited yourself.”

“To-mayto, to-mahto.” She followed and sat beside him on the couch, covering her legs with a fleece throw. “Hey, you were going to try and set up the music player for the Christmas karaoke. How’d that turn out?”

Reece kept his attention on food. “Yeah, I got that figured out.”

“How? Edward was out today.”

“I just, you know, poked around a bit, found the cable, and got it working.”