Sleigh Ride (Minnesota Christmas Book 2) (6 page)

Of course, he had to come up with a date to take Gabriel on.
Right now.

“Come on.” He brightened his smile and dragged the stunned librarian across the parking lot as his brain whirred. “Got something real special lined up for you.” He tried to think of somewhere Marcus had taken Frankie. What was the place up in Eveleth? Some kind of steak joint on Hat Trick Avenue. But Frankie had eaten there and enjoyed it, so it must have fussy food.

Gabriel had gotten over his stupor and began to resist. “Arthur, I don’t think—”

“You need to eat, right? Eveleth is only a hop, skip and a jump.”

Gabriel dug his heels into the ground. “Stop—Arthur, I’m serious. This is a bad idea.”

Arthur played dumb. “Food’s a bad idea?”

“You know what I mean.” Gabriel’s cheeks turned red with more than cold. “I know I was…unreserved last night, but that doesn’t mean I want to go on a date with you.”

“
Unreserved.
” Arthur circled around Gabriel, letting go of his hand but bearing down on him. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Damn, but Gabe was cute all flustered and upset. “It was the heat of the moment. It doesn’t mean I want to roll over for you now every time you have an itch.”

He delivered the line full of bristles and thorns, but Gabriel couldn’t look Arthur in the eye, and he was so distracted he didn’t notice Arthur had backed him up against his truck. Arthur enjoyed the way Gabriel startled when he hit the metal, the way he stilled and softened imperceptibly as Arthur closed in around him.

Closed in, but didn’t touch. Because the
roll over for you every time you have an itch
comment was right out of Paul’s playbook. No fucking way Gabriel was putting him in that box too.

Arthur would show him an itch. Arthur would make damn sure Gabriel
begged
him for a scratch. And to show him, to show Paul, to show everyone who thought he was nothing more than a meathead man-whore, Arthur wasn’t going to give it to him.

Not right away.

“You’re the town librarian.” He made his voice soft, almost silky—but not much, because he wasn’t going for smarmy.
Seductive.
“You work hard. You can’t get paid much. You deserve a night out, to be spoiled a bit.”

Gabriel pressed flat to the truck, but he sort of curled into Arthur too, begging to be touched. “You hate libraries.”

Marcus, it seemed, had been telling tales. Fine. Arthur laid his cards down. “It’s true, I’m not a fan. Doesn’t mean I don’t understand that for a lot of people, kids especially, libraries are important. Hell, I’ve been known to check out a DVD from your establishment on occasion.” His voice softened a little more than he’d have preferred. “I saw you with those kids. You’re good. You’re very good, far better than Logan would normally get. You’re a treasure to this town, and it’s well past time somebody treated you like one.”

The expression on Gabriel’s face hit Arthur in the gut, as if Arthur had found the gap in his armor and buried an arrowhead deep. Though Gabriel still looked ready to rabbit, he seemed to really want someone to find his underbelly. He just didn’t want someone insincere to hit him there.

No more games.
Arthur stepped back, enough to give Gabriel some space. He held up his hands. “Hand to God. This is not an effort to get into your pants. This is dinner, Gabe. Nothing more.”

Gabriel closed his arms over his belly, hunkering as he studied Arthur’s face. “I’m not using any color codes tonight. If I say no to
anything
, sexual or otherwise, I expect my wishes to be honored. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.” Arthur nudged Gabriel sideways so he could open the passenger door for him.

He smiled to himself as he went around the front of the truck, though. Because he
had
heard everything Gabe had said. Including the part where he assumed they were going to be having sex.

C
hapter Seven

G
abriel still wasn’t convinced going on a date with Arthur was a great idea. He didn’t believe for one second Arthur wouldn’t try to get into his pants by the end of the night. He was man enough to admit he wanted Arthur there, good idea or not. This time, though, he’d be smart. He’d be sane. No more of this crazy holding-down stuff, or
no
meaning
yes
. If they made love, it would be honest, straightforward fucking. End of discussion.

He huddled into his seat, trying not to think about how long away the sex part of the evening would be.

“So you’ve always been a librarian, huh?” Arthur pulled onto the road leading out of town. “Was that what you wanted to do when you were little?”

“Pretty much. I lived in a small town on the Canadian border. We had to drive twenty miles to go to the library, and I could only go every two weeks when we went into town to stock up. My whole life was waiting for those trips. I’d stay in the library while my parents did their shopping. I’d read, pick out books to take home. My brothers and sisters got bored, but I never wanted to leave. I felt more at home in the library than I did in my actual house.”

Thinking of his family made him sad, as usual, and he cleared his throat.

“Until I was ten I thought the librarian owned the library, so I wanted to be one because I would own all those books. When I figured out it didn’t work like that, I thought briefly about owning a bookstore, but the library won out. I could never get over the idea that all those wonderful friends I had, all those books, were
free
. Bookstores are so tawdry. Give me a library any day. And make me its librarian. It was my dream, and I went about fulfilling it.”

“How
do
you become a librarian? There’s a course for it or something, right?”

Gabriel bit back a smile. “Quite a few of them. I have a Masters of Library Science, with an emphasis in youth services. I also have minors in community informatics and socio-technical data analytics.”

Arthur was quiet a moment. “I had no idea it took so much to be a librarian. That’s…wow.” He glanced at Gabriel, respect in his gaze. “I apologize. I thought it was all shelving books and gluing spines. I don’t even know what half you said means.”

Arthur had to stop being so nice. It turned Gabriel on far more than it should. “It took me some time to understand it myself, and I won’t lie, I was intimidated at first. I went to Champaign-Urbana because it’s the best school for library science, but that meant the other students were good too. Thankfully, librarians are kind, supportive people. Perhaps sometimes we’re neurotic, but one has to be slightly mad, I contend, to do what we do. At the end of the day, most people consider us babysitters and DVD rentals more than anything else.”

Arthur winced. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t expect to be given a parade. I came up here knowing what I was getting into. The greatest challenge is always funding, especially in small towns, especially lately. Even under the best municipal funding schemes, smaller populations mean smaller budgets. There are plenty of cost-saving measures to be done with ebooks, but in rural areas patrons are much less likely to have electronic readers. Even if they did, children’s books are rarely electronic, and they’re most of our traffic. Everyone wants their child to succeed, so they try to instill reading. Which means there needs to be physical books.”

“I talked to Marcus some about the fundraiser my mom is doing. Frankie had some good ideas.” He sighed. “They still involve me driving a sleigh in a Santa suit, but I’m making my peace with it. I start driving lessons as soon as I finish the restoration.”

“Can you learn to drive a team in between now and the fundraiser? Also, how many people fit in a sleigh? Your mother said it’d be fine, but I have my doubts.”

“Oh, that part’s no big deal. You drive it, best I can tell, by standing in front of or sitting on this bench in the front, and there’s a double seat behind. So two people could ride at a time plus the driver and somebody beside him. Which will be you, Mr. Elf.”

“But where are we riding to? This dance of Frankie’s? How long will it take to drive all these people?”

Arthur laughed. “Damn. You ask good questions, and I don’t have any answers. Maybe only a few people can ride, and it’ll have to be pricey.”

It was endearing, how Arthur didn’t want to play Santa but was willing to anyway.
I know Arthur can be hard to take, but he’s a good guy.
That was what Marcus had said. Also that Arthur would never ask him on a date. Also that he’d leave Gabriel alone if he said he wasn’t interested.

Except Gabriel had to admit, despite his better judgment, part of him was a little, baby bit interested.

The ride to Eveleth wasn’t far, but the road was dark. Snow had started to fall, just a flurry, but the wind kicked up clouds of white powder and spun it through the air. Gabriel gripped the truck seat, unable to stay his nervousness.

Arthur chided him for it. “How’s a Northern boy scared of a bit of snow?”

Gabriel thought about lying then decided against it. “I was stranded with my mom in a blizzard once for almost twenty-four hours. We ran out of gas and had to curl into a ball together in the backseat under the emergency blankets to keep warm. I found out later she’d thought we were going to die, but the plow hit our car in the drift and rescued us.”

“Damn.”

Yes. “I was twelve, but I’ve never truly been comfortable driving or riding in bad weather since. Particularly snow.”

“That’s how Marcus and Frankie met, you know. In a blizzard. Frankie was driving home from Duluth and ended up here.”

“Home was where?”

“Minneapolis.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at Arthur. “But the Cities are
south
of Duluth. We’re north.”

Arthur snorted. “Yeah. Best part: he had a fucking GPS.”

Gabriel laughed. “So I shouldn’t ever ask him for directions?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, no.” Arthur eased in his seat, adjusting his grip on the wheel. “Where are you from, in the north?”

“Roseau. It’s about ten miles south of the Canadian border. Very small. Known for hockey.”

“What did your parents do?”

“My mother raised children. My father, as it happens, recently retired from the logging industry.”

“Well, there you go.” Arthur itched his beard. “So, you heading up there for the holidays?”

Might as well get this out too. “My family and I don’t get together much. We’ll exchange Christmas cards, I suspect, but that’s about all.”

“Let me guess. It’s the gay thing.”

Gabriel smiled, wistful. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

Grimacing, Arthur shook his head. “That’s crap. My parents didn’t love it, mind you, when I came out, but they didn’t cancel Christmas.”

“You’re rather…a manly man. I suspect it was easier for them to convince themselves this was a minor point, who you wanted to take to bed. For me it began with hockey. I was no good at it, I didn’t want to play it or watch it. Sometimes I think my lack of sports acumen and my love of books was worse than who I wanted to date.”

“You had a hard time in high school?”

“Yes, but I wasn’t out. That would have been a death sentence.”

“The world. It’s full of shit more than it isn’t.” Arthur patted Gabriel’s leg. “Don’t worry. Logan’s pretty progressive, most of the time. Anyway, somebody isn’t tolerant of you and your big words, I’ll kick their ass. Probably best to keep the hockey part to yourself, though.”

Gabriel laughed. “I’ll bear it in mind.”

Lights ahead indicated a town, and before long they were pulling into a restaurant parking lot.

“Here we are,” Arthur declared, putting the truck in park and unbuckling his belt.

He was out of the car and around to the passenger side as soon as Gabriel had opened his door. Arthur held out a hand for him, helping him out, and walked beside him all the way to the door to the steakhouse—which he held open for Gabriel.

Gabriel had to admit. It was nice.

The restaurant wasn’t bad, at least as far as Arthur was concerned. Gabriel seemed to have no trouble finding something to order and relaxed with a glass of wine as they waited for their food. Soft country music wafted from the overhead speakers, and Gabriel tapped his toe to it. Arthur did too.

Pretty good date so far, Arthur thought.

“This is nice.” Gabriel ran his finger around the lip of his glass, idly watching the other patrons. “I’d heard of this place but hadn’t ever been here.”

“I figured you’d be more of a fancy-restaurant type of guy. Wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

This earned him a smile from Gabriel, though it was a little wistful. “Thank you. Yes, I…enjoy somewhere fancy on occasion. But I don’t mind humble, either. We ate simply at home—until deer season. I miss venison so much.”

Arthur grinned. “Well. As it happens, I have a freezer full of it. Some in the fridge too.”

He loved the expression on Gabriel’s face—longing and hunger. “You’re kidding. You do? Really?”

“Hell yes. I’ll bring you some over. As much as you want.”

Had they been closer, Arthur thought he might have gotten a kiss. Gabriel smiled, the expression making him beautiful. “Thank you. So much.”

Score one for me.
Arthur wanted to say he’d take him by the house on the way home and give Gabriel his fill of sausage, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t deliver the line without innuendo. He didn’t want Gabriel to put his walls back up.

Slow and steady, that’s what would win this man.

If somebody wanted to win him, which wasn’t Arthur.

“Do you hunt?” Gabriel asked.

“Sometimes. I used to go with my dad when he didn’t have as much trouble getting around. Paul—” He stopped, cleared his throat. “A friend and I used to go every winter. Not this year, though.”

Gabriel looked as if he might say something about Paul, which had Arthur gripping his beer bottle tight, but when he spoke he said only, “Archery or firearm?”

Arthur relaxed. “Both, depending on what we got in the lottery. I prefer archery though. Do you hunt?”

Gabriel glanced at him over the rim of his glasses. Damn, that was kind of hot. “Do I
look
like I hunt?”

No, he damn well didn’t. “Hey, I’m not going to assume anything. But I take it that’s a no.”

Now Gabriel seemed slightly embarrassed. “I can’t hunt. I’m a total hypocrite because I’ll
eat
deer, but I can’t kill one. I tried to go vegetarian after my dad and brothers told me if I wanted to eat it, I had to kill it…but I didn’t last.”

“That’s crap. Why make you hunt if you don’t want to? It’s not as if you needed to kill to survive or anything.”

Gabriel focused on his glass of wine, swirling it on the way to his mouth. “My father disagrees with you. A real man knows how to shoot a gun and kill his food.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I hate that real-man crap.”

He’d thought the comment would win him points, but if anything, Gabriel seemed annoyed. “It’s easy for you to say.
You
could pass for straight.”

This bullshit again. “It’s hard to pass for straight with a dick in your mouth.”

“Do you do that a lot at work? Talk about the dick you got the night before? Or do you belch and shoot the shit about the hockey game?”

“I don’t talk about who I fuck, no, and yeah, I’ve talked about the game. I’ve also seen grown men twice my size behave as if me walking into the men’s room while they pissed was rape. And the time we had an accident and had to peel a guy out of his overalls to staunch the bleeding in his thigh, one guy on our team acted like I was gonna start humping Tim because his dick was flopping out.”

Gabriel’s cheeks stained, and he stared determinedly into his drink.

Arthur didn’t let him off the hook, because he could see this was going to keep getting in the way. “If I wanted, I could blend in better than you. Except it’s not as easy as belches and ball scratches. I’d have to stop cruising guys I thought were hot. I’d have to pretend to catcall girls with the rest of the apes. I’d have to be careful how I touched guys too, even in friendship, because I’d have to live my whole life around not seeming gay. Because here’s the truth in a small town—you slip up once, you’re out, and you don’t go back in. I’ve been out a long, long time. Of the closet, and of the good ’ol boys club.”

During this whole speech, Gabriel had turned his fork over and over beside his plate, staring at it with laser focus. He gave it a few more turns after Arthur finished speaking, then laid it down deliberately and met Arthur’s gaze, chagrined. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That was horribly presumptuous of me, assuming your experience.”

Why was it so hot when Gabe used big words at him? “It’s fine. Frankie does it too, tells me how it’s easier for me. I get what he’s saying, because I guess guys like Marcus and I had an easier time fitting in, if we wanted to. Fitting in isn’t being in, though, I gotta tell you.”

The waiter came with their orders, and they retreated for a few minutes into their food, their conversation nothing more than commentary on how delicious it tasted. But after another lull, Gabriel put down his fork and knife and spoke earnestly to Arthur. “I really am sorry. I realize now how much of my frustration with my father I’ve assigned to you.”

He was beating himself up so much Arthur felt bad for him. “Well, we’re both butch loggers who enjoy hockey and hunting, so I can get why.”

“Yes, but it’s about
all
you have in common, and it’s not fair to you. I’m sorry.”

Gabriel was so contrite, so upset, Arthur panicked. “Don’t beat yourself up. I ain’t no saint. Give me ten minutes. I’m sure I can turn into an asshole again.”

This, thankfully, made Gabriel laugh.

As Arthur teased them into lighter conversion, however, he felt a little off balance. There was a softness about Gabriel now—walls had come down, yeah, but they weren’t the ones Arthur had been after. These were…personal. The way Gabriel looked at him wasn’t some sexy tug-of-war that ended with them doing the horizontal tango. Arthur didn’t know what this was, where it was going. He just knew it freaked him the hell out.