A Certain Kind of Holiday (3 page)

“Thank God for small favors,” he said seriously before he grinned at me. “It’s from you. I’ll love it.”

Despite his words, I was still nervous once we’d thrown on some sweats—more because of the fact that breakfast would eventually be delivered than because of any real desire to get dressed—and gotten some coffee brewed.

“You start,” Howard said as he sipped from his mug. “That way you can quit worrying and just enjoy yourself.”

“I think the phrase is ‘put me out of my misery,’ but whatever floats your boat,” I said with a sigh, going to my small suitcase long enough to pull out the badly wrapped box. I was horrible with wrapping paper, but just dumping it into a gift bag seemed like cheating somehow.

Thankfully, Howard managed to contain his amusement—barely—and opened the box without a word. When he pulled out the bag, his eyes went wide. “Oh my,” he breathed. “Elliot, this is gorgeous.”

I agreed with him, to be honest. The bag itself was just plain leather, but the leather was extremely good quality, and the rich chocolate color was beautiful. “I just figured, you know, since your briefcase has seen better days….” I shrugged, giving him an embarrassed smile. “Look inside.”

When he pulled out the book, it was with something akin to reverence. “Where did you find such a beautiful copy?” he asked as he turned pages. “There’s so little wear that I almost can’t believe it.”

“I stumbled across it at a used book store,” I admitted. “It was a lucky find.”

Howard looked across the small table we’d taken seats at and just stared at me before he placed both the book and the bag in front of him, stood, and was promptly in my chair with me, straddling my lap as he held the sides of my face in his hands. “How on earth could you think that was inadequate? Do you know what your gifts tell me?”

I shook my head, speechless in the face of his intensity.

“They tell me that you get me, Elliot. That you understand me, possibly better than anyone ever has.” He pressed his lips to mine, and it was some time before we came up for air.

I was still dazed when there was a knock on the door. Obviously we’d been involved in locking lips longer than I’d realized, but Howard had a way of making me lose track of time.

“Hold that thought. I’ll give you your gift with breakfast.”

“Sure,” I croaked, hoping my current state of arousal wouldn’t scandalize the staff.

Thankfully, the gentleman who wheeled in the cart with multiple dishes paid little attention to me, and left almost as quickly as he came, a hefty tip in hand.

Once the door was shut behind him, Howard started peeking under the domed covers. I was about to ask him what he was looking for when he let out a triumphant noise and set a plate in front of me. “Here. This is yours.”

He stood there looking both expectant and nervous for some reason, and I raised an eyebrow at him before lifting the cover. What I saw made me suck in a startled breath.

On the plate sat a small velvet box.

I looked from the box to Howard, blinking, and then looked back at the box again.

Howard let out a nervous chuckle, plucked the box from the plate, and dropped to one knee. He opened and shut his mouth several times, as if tongue-tied, and finally just lifted the box’s hinged lid and held it out to me. “Will you marry me?”

My heart pounded and I thought I might pass out. “That’s not fair,” I whispered.

Howard’s brows drew together, and he looked alarmed. “What’s not fair?”

“Your present to me is far better than the one I gave you.”

He let out a surprised laugh, and I followed with a weak chuckle of my own. “It’s not a competition,” he reminded me. “Will you, Elliot? Marry me?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” I said, reaching out to stroke his face. “Of course I will.”

“Oh thank God,” Howard exclaimed with relief, pulling me out of my chair and down to the floor with him, making me squawk in surprise. “Merry Christmas to me.”

“To us,” I said firmly, leaning against him as I looked out the large windows behind us. “Howard?”

“Yes, love?”

“Do they do weddings here?”

“A
RE
YOU
nervous?”

I rolled my eyes at Nial, who was in the process of saving me from setting the bowtie I was supposed to be wearing on fire. I never could figure out how to tie the damn things, but it turned out that Nial had no such problem. “Why on earth would I be nervous? It’s not like I’m questioning my decision to get married.”

Nial snickered as he gave my bow one final tug. “Oh, I’m not suggesting you’d be nervous about getting married. I’m more concerned about you being nervous about doing so in front of two hundred people.”

“One hundred sixty-eight, which is an amazing number, considering it’s Christmas Eve,” I said, turning to look in the mirror. “And less than fifty of those are mine.”

In fact, most of the people I’d invited were work-related. It turned out that being very nice to the musicians who volunteered their time to the nonprofit I worked for went in my favor when news of my impending nuptials made rounds at the office. Thanks to them, our ceremony and reception were going to be blessed with an extremely good live performance.

I’d also given in to Howard’s suggestion of sending my family invitations, if only to rub it in that I was happy, but only one had not been sent back “Return to Sender.” The one RSVP from my family included a letter from my cousin, who took great delight in referring to our family as “a bunch of narrow-minded baboons who needed to be given a thousand paper cuts and then bathed in a vat of lemon juice.” He’d then said he and his family would be thrilled to join us, so long as we didn’t mind his three small children running around, causing chaos. I’d immediately called him and told him I’d be delighted to have any family I could get. Because for all I had a new family in Howard, the fact that the family I’d been born into had thought nothing of kicking me out of their lives still hurt a little all these years later.

“Well, considering that most of Howard’s guests are current and former students, I suppose that’s less nerve-wracking than if he’d had a large family for you to embarrass yourself in front of.”

I gave Nial the stink-eye, and he just laughed. “I thought about tracking down Tim and sending him an invitation, just so I could imagine him choking when he saw who I was marrying,” I admitted. “Then I realized that if I did that, there would be a chance that he might actually show up, and I certainly didn’t want that.”

“He’s the boyfriend that kissed Howard, right?” Nial asked, his grin widening. “That was hilarious. Well, except for—”

“Except for me getting hurt. I know. Even I see the humor in it now, especially considering today.”

There was a knock on the door, and Amanda poked her head in. She was there as our guest, not as a member of the staff, but she’d appointed herself our gofer anyway. “It’s time,” she said, her smile wide.

“Well, then,” Nial said, offering me his arm. “Shall we go get you married?”

I hadn’t been nervous before, but once we were actually in the ballroom, it turned out Nial’s concerns about the crowd getting to me were valid. I swallowed hard as I glanced over the assembled, and then my gaze landed on Howard, and our guests ceased to exist for me. My silver fox in a white tux. He was just as gorgeous as he’d been the day Tim introduced me to him, and that beauty increased tenfold when he smiled widely at me.

Nial managed to get me across the room without stumbling, and suddenly I was less than an arm’s length from the man I was about to marry.

“You look gorgeous,” he whispered to me as we turned to face the officiant.

“Pot, meet kettle,” I whispered in return, earning a quiet chuckle.

The officiant gave us an amused look, then began. “Dearly beloved….”

“Y
OU
LOOK
exhausted,” Howard said as the festivities wound down. The cake had long since been cut, the food had been devoured, and I’d taken far too many turns on the dance floor.

“I am,” I said, leaning against him as he pulled me to his side. “It’s been a very long day.” I turned my head and graced his cheek with a kiss. “A good day, though.”

“The best,” he agreed. “Are you ready for our honeymoon?”

“Every day with you is a honeymoon to me.”

“Oh God, I may throw up,” Nial said from behind us with a groan. “Can you possibly get any sappier?”

Nial’s partner, Sam, thumped him gently on the back of the head. “You love it and you know it.”

Nial thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I kind of do, actually. But seriously, you two, are you sure about your honeymoon? You could be going someplace much more interesting than just taking the train back home.”

“Oh, we are,” I assured him. “We’re taking the train to Los Angeles and hopping a shuttle to LAX. There’s a wonderful little bed and breakfast in Maine that was recommended to us by friends, and we’re going to hole up there for a week.”

“Putting aside the fact that I think you’re insane to be visiting Maine in the middle of winter, you could have just flown out from here.”

“Yes, but….” I paused, giving Howard a sidelong glance and a smile. “We’re used to a certain kind of holiday. Besides, the beds on the train are extremely narrow, and Howard likes that we have to snuggle so close to sleep.”

Howard gave me a squeeze. “Merry Christmas to me,” he said, bobbing his eyebrows suggestively.

I turned in my husband’s arm and gave him a smile. “No, love. I keep telling you. Merry Christmas to
us
.”

31 stories of holiday love!

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A
NDI
V
AN
is a foul-mouthed troublemaker who lives near San Diego with a small fluffy thing named Koi, a baseball bat that’s forever being used for things other than baseball, and a fondness for rum and caffeine (though not necessarily together).

Andi is fluent in three languages (English, sarcasm, and profanity), and takes pride in a highly developed—if somewhat bizarre—sense of humor.

E-mail: [email protected]

Website: www.andivan.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/defiantandi

Twitter: @DefiantAndi

Starting with the Unexpected

By Andi Van

Zachary Blaise is having a weird week—even by his standards. Though he's gay, the radio personality has been dumped via text by a girl named Marian—and he's never even met her. On top of that, he's developed a massive crush on Marcus, the new waiter at his favorite diner. His best friend thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

Marcus’s week hasn’t been his best either. He's been betrayed by those closest to him, and although he isn't the guilty party, Marcus is the one getting harassed.

Impossibly, things are about to get even weirder. Marian has secrets, and those secrets are going to make some serious ripples in Zach's life. When he discovers that the girl called Marian is actually the man named Marcus, Zach stumbles down a rabbit hole of abusive ex-boyfriends, psychotic relatives, and revelations from his own past. If he can survive the chaos, the journey might prove worth the effort.

www.dreamspinnerpress.com