Page 65 of The Christmas Accomplice

“I know. Get a move on!”

Welton dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of dark green chinos and a white T-shirt beneath a Star Trek-themed Christmas sweater. When he returned to the first level, Dean gave him a critical look, but then waved him toward the door.

“Boots and coat and all the accessories. It’s cold, and the snow is really coming down.”

A short time later, Welton trudged through the snow behind Dean, squinting into the heavy snowfall that had obliterated the path and almost buried the lights to either side of it. The wind was sharp and snatched his breath right out of his mouth, the snowflakes big and wet, clinging to his glasses and face.

By the time they pushed through the revolving door into the lobby, Welton was shivering and out of breath. His glasses were a mess, and the lenses immediately fogged up. He unzipped his coat and pulled up the bottom of his sweater to untuck his T-shirt and wipe his glasses. When he put them back on again, he was stunned to see Reece in the middle of the lobby, staring at him. Dean stood off by the front desk, leaning on it next to Reece’s friend, Nick.

“Hi,” Welton said. “Um, Merry Christmas.”

Reece stared.

“It’s snowing, like, a lot, in case you haven’t been outside yet.”

“Yeah.” Reece looked over at the desk, and Dean and Nick immediately turned away and pretended to be discussing a pamphlet about the resort’s rewards program. When Reece looked back at him, Welton saw a shift in his expression, a softening of his features, and it sparked a fragile flame of hope inside him.

“Why are you here?” Reece asked.

Welton took a breath and let it out. He could play it off like he was just coming up to get a table for dinner or going to the bar for a drink. Or he could be honest and let Reece know he’d shown up to help him. Given what had happened already, he opted for the honest approach.

“I heard you might need a little help with your activity from a visiting gay nerd.”

Across the lobby, Nick whispered something Welton couldn’t hear and Dean snickered. But he didn’t care about them. All he cared about at that moment was that Reece was looking at him like he was happy to see him and didn’t want him to leave. And Welton knew he needed to at least start to make things right, if that was at all possible.

He took a couple of steps closer. “I’m sorry. I should have explained Dean and I knew each other. But we’re not a couple anymore. Both of us being on this trip was all a big mix up. It was so confusing and seemed so ridiculous, and things with you were so good, I was afraid to upset the balance.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Reece said, closing the space between them even more. “I should have talked with you about it. I was… hurt. I felt deceived.”

“I know. And, again, I’m sorry.” Welton noticed a green binder tucked under Reece’s arm and gestured to it. “Is that the activity?”

“Yeah. This is it.”

“Role playing Saving Santaland?”

Reece looked over toward the front desk, and, again, Nick and Dean pretended to be engrossed in a pamphlet. He shook his head, but when he looked back at Welton, he had a tired grin. “It’s called TheBattle for Castle Claus. Did a little elf tell you that?”

“Something like that. Would you like me to help you storm Castle Claus?”

Reece’s smile lit up all the dark corners inside Welton, and he couldn’t help smiling back.

“I would like that,” Reece said. “Very much.”

Welton thought he heard Dean and Nick high five and say Yes! simultaneously, but he couldn’t look away from Reece. With slow steps, he approached Reece, looking up into his warm, brown eyes. There was a touch of sadness floating in them, and Welton put a hand on Reece’s upper arm.

“Can you wait until after the activity for us to talk in more detail? I really do want to clear this up with you. If you’re interested, that is.”

“I am interested, and, yes, I can wait.” He held the green binder out to him. “But I’m really overwhelmed, and I don’t even feel like I’m speaking English right now. Am I speaking English?”

Welton smiled as he took the binder. “I understand how you feel, and, yes, you are definitely speaking English. This starts at three?”

“That’s right.”

“Give me five minutes to skim through this.”

Welton sat in a lobby chair and opened the binder. At first, he had a difficult time focusing on the words. He kept smelling Reece as he paced in front of him—his body wash, deodorant, and the gentle tang of sweat that was like some black market aphrodisiac to him. But then Welton got into the story and was able to see how things would play out. He’d run games like this before, and he’d done it with multiple players at different tables.

He looked up at Reece. “How many players are signed up?”