Jesse's Christmas (6 page)

He’d listed friends as a reason to miss New York, but he could be honest with himself that really, Emma was his only friend. Anyone else that managed to get inside his head were those connected to Jonah, and when Jonah was sentenced they all melted away. He’d always been Jonah’s plus one, never the one on his own. And hell, he never went to the theatre. At least he hadn’t lied about the Starbucks—he often wished he could have an intravenous drip of the stuff when he was working.

Somehow in the space of five minutes he’d gone from feeling motivated about what he was doing and who he might be seeing to feeling like absolute shit.
Rude.

Seemed like one look at Gabriel’s blue eyes, and he was a stupid mess of an idiot. Something about that man had Jesse all tangled up inside, and he wasn’t that sure he wanted to take a step away. Instead he concentrated on what was happening around him and took shot after shot with his camera.

Gabriel appeared in quite a few.

The group making candles was huddled in a corner of the large hall at a huge table filled with different color waxes. While Jesse hovered, his mind in photographer mode, he saw their work showed experience and dedication. Jesse shot photos of hands and faces and was told by Mavis, a short and round ruddy-faced retiree, that she was the oldest at the table. She had been making candles every year since 1944, the year her John never made it home from the Pacific, the year her daughter, Anna, was born. Mavis introduced Anna, and Jesse shot frames of the two of them, so similar in looks but a generation apart as they worked on intricate designs in red and gold.

“Hey, Mavis.” Gabriel’s voice carried from the other side of the table as Jesse moved on to capturing images of the candles themselves.

“Gabriel.” The single name was said with such delight, and Gabriel leaned over to place a small kiss on her cheek.

“What is this year’s theme?” Gabriel asked. Jesse quirked an eyebrow at the question. As far as he could see the theme was anything they wanted it to be. Apart from a predominance of red, green, blue, and gold, there didn’t appear to be any discernable link from one candle to the next.

“Tradition,” Mavis said even as two others answered.

“Momma tracked down some of the designs from the group in 1951,” Anna added excitedly. She pushed her design, a complex twist of colors, forward. Jesse took a few more shots of the elaborate design, sliding the view slightly to include Gabriel, who was leaning over and admiring the creation. The camera really loved the other man, and not for the first time, what Jesse saw through the lens sent blood rushing to his groin. What were the chances that for the next month Jesse could get a friends-with-benefits thing going on with Gabriel? Of course, that depended on whether he stopped fucking up and insulting Gabriel.

Just…
Please be gay. Please be gay.

“Are you joining in?” Gabriel asked, and in the lens, Jesse realized Gabriel was looking straight at him. Jesse blinked as he refocused his eyes.

“Me?” he asked helplessly.
Jeez. No.
“Okay,” he found himself saying. Gabriel smiled widely and ushered him over to a separate table with several small kids chatting and creating. This was clearly the beginners’ table if the mounds of mixed wax were anything to go by. Jesse carefully placed his camera in the carry bag he had with him and sat down.

“Guys,” Gabriel started, “this is Mr Connor. He’s a beginner, I think?” Gabriel added the last with a quirk of his dark eyebrow and a smile on his full, kissable lips. Jesse found it difficult to speak at first. Gabriel was obviously over Jesse’s whole foot-in-mouth disaster.

“Totally a complete beginner.” He tripped over the words and then dropped his gaze at the amused look on Gabriel’s face. Gabriel sat on the chair next to him, so close their arms brushed. Jesse had a sudden wish that, instead of winter, it was actually mid-summer, just for the potential of skin touching.

“So we’ll start you with the wax, okay?” Gabriel was instructing him. “This is blended, moldable paraffin wax, and this is the wick and the metal tabs for fixing the wick to the bottom of the mold. Don’t worry, we have plenty of spares.”

“Okay.” Jesse wasn’t feeling anything like worried at that point. This was easy, and if a five-year-old could do it, then he certainly could. Instead, with the scent of Gabriel in every single one of his inhalations, it was actually desire that buzzed inside his head and not concentration on the matter at hand. This was different, sitting here and listening to Gabriel talk. He couldn’t remember really listening to much of what Jonah ever said, simply because money and investments bored him after month three. Pity, though, that he hadn’t taken more time to listen. Maybe he would have seen what Jonah was up to.

Gabriel’s voice was firm and smooth like honey, and Jesse was mesmerized. “These are wick pins for keeping the wick straight while the wax dries properly. The putty for sticking the wick to the wick pins is over there, and finally”—Gabriel held up a small pot—“this is candle dye, and there are quite a lot of colors to choose from.”

“Blue,” Jesse blurted out. He barely stopped himself from adding something really inane such as
like your eyes
.

“Cool.” Gabriel reached for a pot marked “cerulean”, and companionably, the two men sat in a cold hall, wrapped in sweaters, making candles with kindergarten kids. It was the most fun Jesse had experienced with his clothes on since he was a child himself. Of course, sitting with Gabriel helped, and that reaction was distinctly adult.

Critically, he looked at his forming candle. He winced as he realized his attempt was looking somewhat like a cock, and pressed down at the top to lessen the whole mushroom roundness of it. Gabriel chuckled next to him, but when Jesse looked sideways at him, he saw Gabriel wasn’t actually observing his phallic candle. He was instead staring directly at Jesse’s face, almost like he was searching for something inside of Jesse.

“You look so cute sitting there with such a look of concentration on your face,” Gabriel finally said. Inclining his head, he asked, “Are you having fun?”

Jesse mumbled something low in his throat approximating a yes and then resumed his concentration on making his candle less phallic so it would sit in the mold.
Cute?
Gabriel had definitely called him cute. Straight men didn’t call other men cute.
Right?

He’d never been called cute before. It felt nice.

The candles were finished and everyone collected them onto one table so that Jesse could photo them. They were grouped in height but Jesse had hidden his phallic shape behind Gabriel’s white snowman that actually looked like a snowman. He wouldn’t use this photo for the paper, but he would be happy to supply a memory stick with extra photos. Maybe he could send it to Gabriel after he returned to the city.

He assisted Gabriel in putting the tables back where they should be, and he collected in all the random wax and boxed of bits and pieces to store away. Gabriel locked up and they stood awkwardly for a second. Jesse didn’t want this warm cozy feeling inside him to end.

“I’m going up to see Mom,” Gabriel finally said.

“I’ll walk with you,” Jesse said. He groaned inwardly. Where exactly else would he be going? They set off slowly up the hill. The paths were trampled down, but there hadn’t been extensive snow clearing on the road or the paths. The going was hard, and once or twice he stumbled or slipped. Each time Gabriel was there to grab at his arm and stop his falling. Nearing the top of the hill and with the hotel in sight, Jesse was never more relieved. His thighs ached, his knees ached, hell his entire body ached.

“Earth to Jesse?” Gabriel was talking to him, and Jesse focused in on what the other man was saying. “Are you coming to the choir practice?”

Jesse pulled his thoughts back to the here and now. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow evening. There’s music and cookies and I’m thinking lots of photo opportunities.”

“Will you be there?” Jesse asked before he could stop himself. Sometimes his brain wasn’t wired to his mouth. Gabriel chuckled.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he offered.

They reached the hotel drive. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” Jesse said firmly. “To take photos,” he added. Door closed behind them, Jesse hovered for a second, unsure of what he should be doing now. Should they continue talking? Or should he leave?

“Best be getting on,” Gabriel said.

“Oh. Me too. Yes. Getting on. Photos and all that.”
Idiot.

Chapter 7

December first dawned bright, and there had been no new snow overnight. It was somewhat of a disappointment, as Jesse had really hoped Gabriel would be clearing snow from the walk, but again he was too late. Was it wrong to think about setting his alarm earlier just so he’d see the man? He was like some teenage girl with a crush. He consoled himself with checking the photos he already had in his separate Gabriel file. And no, it wasn’t at all creepy to be collecting photos of a near stranger on his laptop. Or at least that’s what he told himself. The first photo was live when he woke up. He was proud of picture one despite his admission to himself that he wasn’t entirely connected to the subject matter.

The pristine snow framed by the wooden surround of the shed door was a good example of a Jesse Connor image, and it was good to go. He logged in and saw the post already had over three hundred comments, and there was an email in his inbox from the web content editor who praised it as a good start. There was even a visit from a familiar critic who praised the initial photo and called Jesse an artist with words and pictures. Hearing something like that had been a long time coming. The last time people had praised his work it was a piece on the flora and fauna in New York State, and the project had been so well received he had lived off the proceeds for a year.
That was then.
He should be happy that people appeared to like his work.

Sighing, he pulled himself back to what was on today’s agenda. Today was the carol practice, tomorrow was fudge day, a couple days after that was the first round of the Christmas cookie-making competition, and next Friday was a gingerbread house event. That was on top of some great tree-trimming thing. Jesse was beginning to feel more than a little unsettled in Eden Vale. It appeared that kicking and screaming, he was being dragged into the McClurey family and their plot to dominate the world one Christmas-themed activity at a time. Diana plunked herself in the chair opposite him at breakfast.

“The choir is meeting today for carol practice. Do you think the event might make a good subject for your blog?” That must be the practice Gabriel told him about.

“I’m planning on it. Is it an adult choir?”

Diana smiled at the question. “Absolutely.” She sat forward in her chair, and her eyes sparkled with excitement and laughter. “Totally adults. We have the practices in the school auditorium when school is finished for the day. There is a concert a few days before Christmas and then, of course, the carols on Christmas Eve.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Focusing on the other end of the town’s age demographic would make a good balance to the kids he planned to photo. Readers liked faces with experience etched into each line and, to be fair, so did he.

“I’ll tell my son to expect an extra.” She nodded and rose from her chair. “He’s the choir leader.” She sounded so proud. “He has a wonderful voice.”

Gabriel McClurey with the sapphire eyes. Shed-finder extraordinaire, snowy-hill rescuer, and candle-maker. Now choir leader?

Jesse laughed to himself at the thought. Gabriel probably played Santa for the kids when called upon.

Was there anything this man didn’t do?

Gabriel turned out to be a tenor, and his voice was strong in supporting the choir as they giggled and joked their way through practice. Jesse had to tear his eyes away from a sinful body poured into fitted dark jeans and a thin black sweater. It seemed like every time they met, Gabriel was wearing less and less. Jeez, that took the brain in his pants into some wild places. Jesse concentrated on photos of singles and groups and the school auditorium, but his artist’s eye was capturing a lot more than he imagined. Diana and Austin, hotel owner and principal of the school, seemed
very
friendly. The average age of the choir members was probably way past fifty, and the average was only brought down by his and Gabriel’s presence. He spent a good five minutes staring at the back of Gabriel’s head and wondering exactly how old the other man was compared to his own twenty-eight.

Austin was blushing as he leaned in to turn sheet music for Diana, and Jesse tore himself away from speculation about Gabriel and framed the view. He ran off a few shots with a smile on his face as he worked. There was a definite flirtation happening there, and he had captured it. He thought briefly about how Gabriel might feel about his mom flirting. Jesse had hated all the flirting his momma had done when he still lived at home.

There’d been an air of desperation in her after his dad left, and her life consisted of wanting one boyfriend after another, looking to find “the one”. Every single one of them had ended up just as bad as his ex had been for him. Users, all of them. Men who broke your heart in a second and didn’t think twice about the debris left behind. His poor mom. She just needed to be looked after. Was that really too much to ask? It was nice to be looked after, but her need was more for an emotional crutch.

He and Jonah had been a hot and heavy item, but there was still that emotional separation between them. Jesse didn’t need Jonah to be his support system. Despite what Jesse had thought at the time, with hindsight it was obvious that they’d simply been two individuals living in the same space, coming together just to fuck and then separating again.

Self-preservation was a weird thing really. Separation of self was safer that way. He shook his head to clear the miserable thoughts inside him.
I don’t need love
. He’d thought he had love with Jonah, but again with that wonderful gift of seeing things from afar, he could admit it had been nothing more than an intricate web of infatuation on his side and lies on Jonah’s. How had he ever believed that he loved Jonah? Was he just as desperately needy as his own momma? It didn’t bear thinking about.