To celebrate my 10 year publishing anniversary I'll be posting one short story per day here on my blog from December 13-24th.
Every day will feature a different couple and the stories will vary in length. They'll range from sweet to a little bit spicy and hopefully will leave you with a smile on your face and a warm feeling of holiday cheer in your heart.
Thank you for ten wonderful years!
MISTLETOE AND HOLLY
DAY: 3
CHARACTERS: Brent Cameron & Lowell Prescott
PROMPTS: "Stop Trying to Get Me Under the Mistletoe!" and Home for Christmas
NOTES: Set approximately nine years after the events of Push & Pull.
Brent might not have been born into the same world Lowell had grown up in, but these days, Lowell almost found it hard to believe.
Brent had been hobnobbing all night with Lowell’s parents’ rich—and if Lowell was being honest—painfully snobby and boring friends. And Brent had them eating out of the palm of his hand.
Not to mention Lowell’s parents. They adored him.
Of course, he’d held a position at Prescott Helmets for nine years now and with Anabel and Charles Prescott’s acquisition of the Evanston River Otters hockey team last summer, well, these days Brent and Lowell spent a lot of time at events like this.
And, sure, sometimes Brent still broke out the small-town boy from Michigan charm, but that only seemed to make people like him more.
They found him charming. Personable. Easy to talk to.
Lowell just found his husband hot.
He was all of the other things too, of course, but at the moment, wearing a red cashmere sweater that showed off his broad shoulders and the charcoal wool trousers that clung to his still-fabulous, former college hockey-playing ass, all Lowell wanted to do was drag him under the mistletoe somewhere and kiss him stupid.
As if Brent could feel his gaze, he half-turned, shooting Lowell a smile.
Lowell waggled his fingers in answer.
Bored with the annual holiday cocktail party already, Lowell snagged another cranberry mimosa from the bartender, filled a plate with spinach puffs, endive stuffed with herbed goat cheese, and asparagus crostini then found a comfortable spot to ogle his husband from.
He should be chatting with the other party guests. Usually, he was the life of a party and he had been making the best of this one earlier, but these were not really his kind of people and it had quickly grown tedious.
He’d spent all week buried in therapy appointments with some particularly difficult clients and he was enjoying not having to listen to anyone talk at the moment.
Still, it made his parents happy when he and Brent attended.
Lowell’s peace didn’t last for long, unfortunately.
“Which one are you eyeing?” a brunette woman asked as she swanned up in a sparkly silver cocktail dress that showed off every one of her assets.
Odd question, but Lowell would play along. “Uhh, the one in the red sweater with his back to us.”
She sighed. “Good luck, honey. He turned me down. Said he was married.”
Lowell stifled a snort and held up his hand to show off his wedding ring. “Yeah. To me. And we plan to keep it that way.”
She mock pouted before taking a sip of her drink. “Oh, monogamy. How quaint.”
Lowell shrugged. “It works for us.”
Lowell didn’t consider himself a prude—he worked with a number of clients at his therapy practice who were poly or had various configurations of open relationships—but personally, he was a one-man sort of guy.
And who could possibly need more when they were married to Brent Cameron?
Fortified by the food and cocktail, Lowell made a few more rounds, being his most charming self. His hard work was rewarded when his mother shot him an approving smile from across the room twice, which might be a new record.
She’d spent years sighing, “Oh, Lowell,” at him for years, so this was a major improvement.
But despite the occasionally contentious nature of their relationship, Lowell really did love his parents. And, over the years, their frustrations with one another had mellowed to a point where they could all spend time together without arguing.
Having Brent as a buffer had gone a long way too. His father was so enamored with Brent’s willingness to become the heir to the Prescott Helmet business that he’d forgiven Lowell for his lack of interest in it.
Lowell might not be the son Charles Prescott had hoped for, but Brent sure was. And that had worked well for all of them.
And speaking of the devil … where was his delicious husband?
Lowell went wandering in search of him.
His parents’ home—mansion—was decked out to the nines with glowing lights and festive boughs of greenery. There were at least half a dozen evergreen trees scattered around the first floor and everything was professionally decorated.
It was a little much for Lowell’s taste. And that was saying something because he thoroughly enjoyed being extra.
He would always prefer the condo on Lake Michigan that he and Brent owned to the mansions of Winnetka, Illinois, but still, it was home. In fact, he and Brent would come here on Christmas Day to unwrap gifts and enjoy a nice festive family dinner.
Lowell was starting to wonder if his husband really had run off with someone else when he found Brent in Charles Prescott’s study, standing by the French doors, which had been cracked open to allow in air from the balcony. The room was dim, with only the Christmas tree glowing in the corner to give them light.
“So this is where you escaped to,” Lowell teased.
Brent gave him a wry grin and tugged at his sweater collar. “I needed some air. Holy shit, it’s hot in here.”
“Don’t be silly! It’s just me,” Lowell said as he fluttered his lashes.
In deference to his parents’ sensibilities, Lowell had dressed fairly conservatively tonight but he had snuck in a few touches to make him feel like himself, including a silky emerald green shirt and some fabulous sparkly eye makeup.
Brent gave him a heated once-over. “Well, that’s true.”
Grinning, Lowell snaked his arms around Brent’s waist and nuzzled against his broad shoulder.
“So I hear some other people have been trying to get you under the mistletoe tonight, huh?”
Brent laughed. “They have. I think they were a couple, actually, although I’m not entirely sure.”
“Tempted?” Lowell arched a manicured eyebrow.
Brent let out a quiet snort. “Hardly.”
“Well, what about a kiss for your husband instead? We are trapped under the mistletoe at the moment.”
“I’m not sure we’re really trapped.” Brent craned his neck to look upward. “And I think that’s actually Michigan holly. Mistletoe has white berries.”
Lowell shook his head. Oh, Brent. “Kiss me anyway?”
Smiling, Brent brushed their lips together. “Like that?”
“Hmm. I was thinking something a little more … passionate,” Lowell teased.
“Yeah? I bet I can manage that.” Brent dipped his head and kissed Lowell.
After so many years, it shouldn’t still send a little zing of excitement through Lowell’s body, but there was nothing like the feel of his husband’s lips against his. The firm press of his muscular body. The thorough way he delved his tongue between Lowell’s lips …
Lowell loved him so much his heart ached with it and as he pulled back, the words he’d been planning to tell Brent later tonight escaped his lips before he could stop them. “I’m ready, Brent.”
“Oh, yeah? We can go home now.” Brent smirked, clearly thinking about getting Lowell into bed.
Laughing, Lowell lightly slapped his chest. Tempting, but not what he meant. “Not ready to go home and have sex. Ready to do the big thing we’ve been talking about.”
“The big thing …” Brent’s eyes got huge. “Oh! The baby thing?”
Lowel bit his lip. “Well, I’m thinking maybe a young brother and sister who are in desperate and urgent need of a family thing.”
“Oh.” Brent blinked. “You … there are some specific kids you know of?”
Lowell nodded. “This morning I was talking to Sharon, that social worker I know, and she was telling me about this pair and oh, Brent, your heart would break just looking at them. They’re so sweet and their parents are gone. No other family. The moment I saw their picture I just wanted to scoop them up and take them right home to you.”
That was the first time Lowell had ever felt ready. Maybe nobody was ever truly ready to be a parent, but after years, he finally knew he wasn’t un-ready the way he’d felt in the past.
He’d had so many goals he’d wanted to meet before they started a family. At first, it had been getting his master’s degree, and then putting his time and energy into the therapy practice, and … well, there had always been something.
Maybe there would always be something.
But seeing those sweet faces made Lowell know that it was time to get over his fears and do the thing they’d been talking about for years.
Brent’s eyes were filled with hope but he hesitated, hands gripping Lowell’s upper arms.
“Lowell, are you sure? I can’t get my hopes up …”
“I know,” Lowell said thickly. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to change my mind last summer, but I just wasn’t quite ready and …”
“No.” Brent cupped his cheek. “Hey, I get it. And I didn’t want to rush you. I just … I need you to know for sure this time. Because I can’t get my heart broken like that again.”
“Of course,” Lowell said tenderly. His husband was such a sweet man and he was going to be the best dad. “I know. But I promise, no take backs. I’m ready this time. One-hundred percent.”
“Yeah?” Brent’s blue eyes lit up, a smile transforming his gorgeous face. He was starting to get faint little crow’s feet around his eyes and oh, Lowell loved him even more now than he had almost a decade ago when their unplanned road trip around Lake Michigan had taken them from contentious acquaintances to people committed to spending their lives together.
“Yeah.” Lowell slipped a hand into his pocket. “Want to see them?”
Brent sucked in a breath. “Oh, you have pictures?”
Lowell tapped his screen, putting in his passcode and finding the shots. “Yeah. I’m not even sure if Sharon was supposed to share the pics but …”
He tilted his screen to show Brent.
“Oh, look at them.” Brent’s voice was hushed as he took the phone. “Look at the way he’s holding his sister, Lowell.”
“I know, right?” Lowell said, his eyes watering. “They’re so perfect and I love them already.”
“It could still fall through,” Brent said, lowering the phone, but sneaking another look at the screen, his gaze filled with longing.
“It could,” Lowell agreed. “But we’re registered as foster parents now and we have everything going for us. We both have stable careers, neither of us travel much for work, we have lots of resources …”
“And so much love to give.”
Lowell nodded, biting his lip. That most of all.
“Sharon said to let her know as soon as possible and we might at least have temporary foster custody by Christmas.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Brent said, thrusting Lowell’s phone back at him. “Call her! Now! I want to bring our babies home.”
Laughing, Lowell wiped at his eyes, not really caring that his mascara was probably smearing. “Okay. I’m calling, I’m calling.”
With Brent’s arm around him, Lowell stood there under the mistletoe, bathed in the light of the Christmas tree, and hoped as fiercely as he could that they’d be a family of four by Christmas.
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