Seasons Greetings Read online

  Russ bristled at the implication. He was only three or four years older than Ian. “I’ll have you know the other areas of my life are fine.” He lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe at forehead. “I’ve not had any complaints.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” Ian exhaled heavily, and Russ tried not to notice how his chest expanded with the deep inhalation that followed. “So, uh, you’ve never said if you’re seeing anybody?”

  Russ didn’t know how to respond to the question. He could answer with the truth—which would make him look like a jerk—or he could say what he thought Ian might want to hear—which would make him feel like a jerk. Damn it, Mike was right. He really liked Ian. An uncomfortable silence grew between them, broken only by the sound of their shoes hitting the ground in synchronized motion.

  “Sorry.” Ian gave in first. “I didn’t mean to pry. We’ve spent a lot of time together; I figured I ought to find out if there’s some significant other out there gunning for me.”

  “No.” Russ told himself it was their pace that left his throat closed and tight. “It’s okay. I just, well, I’m not seeing anybody right now.”

  “Cool.”

  Russ heard the happy smile in Ian’s voice, and he stared at the tree ahead in the distance, the weeds lining their path, his shoelaces. Anything but those dimples, his undoing every time. He knew he could have stopped there, but he was determined to man up and not lie to Ian. He didn’t know why it was so important, it just was. “Actually, I don’t exactly do relationships. Period.”

  “Oh.”

  Russ snuck a quick glance over after he heard the flat tone of Ian’s voice. Ian had stopped smiling and the dimples to die for had disappeared. Russ told himself that no matter what he imagined, a magic “J” for “jerk” hadn’t appeared on his forehead.

  “Never learned the relationship thing. Never really saw it in action, if you know what I mean.” Russ uncomfortably tried to explain. Damn difficult as he hadn’t bothered to examine his reasoning in years.

  “Just because you didn’t grow up in the Huxtables’ family doesn’t mean you can’t learn new tricks.” Russ guessed he shouldn’t have been surprised Ian understood what he tried to say. Ian was scary like that.

  “Actually, we didn’t even resemble the Bundys.” Russ’s lungs burned with the effort to suck in more air, and despite his desire to run so fast he’d be unable to think about any of this, the constriction forced him to slow down.

  Ian slowed his pace as well, and they jogged silently for several minutes until Ian spoke up again.

  “Do you think the creators of that sitcom deliberately named the family after a serial killer?”

  Russ couldn’t help but laugh at the serious tone of Ian’s question, and just like that, everything between them was okay again.

  3

  “I hear those sleigh bells jingling—ring, ting, tingling too.”

  Russ grit his teeth as the jazzed up version of the old classic played over the bar’s loudspeakers. He couldn’t escape. Halloween decorations had just been taken down, Thanksgiving still more than a few weeks ahead, and they were already playing Christmas carols. It was bad enough he had to live two or three seasons in advance at his career, he couldn’t believe the rest of the world did it willingly.

  A quick glance showed him a path through the tables. Russ preferred a different type of bar for his downtime. Some place quieter and more casual, kind of like the sports bar he and Ian had gone to last Thursday to watch the basketball game after work. Here, he couldn’t even have a decent conversation between the distraction of the lights and the booming bass line assaulting the brave souls on the dance floor.

  But he wasn’t here to relax or make polite small-talk, Russ reminded himself. Despite his doubts at trusting Mike to be his wingman, Russ needed to follow Mike’s game plan and overcome his fixation on Ian. Russ wanted to get his life back to normal.

  Step one entailed finding a distraction for the evening, someone warm and willing who knew the score and wouldn’t waste time with expectations Russ had no intention of meeting. Russ yawned. He could do this in his sleep.

  The open stool had his name written all over it. Russ slid onto the cool, vinyl seat and nodded at the bartender. His beer in hand, he swiveled around to check out the scene. Too early for much of a crowd, easier that way. He could be in and out without a lot of fuss. Not that his presence went unnoticed.

  From the moment he had walked in the door, Russ knew he was being watched. Not that he was vain, but he wasn’t stupid either. Russ’s dark good looks and the confident, controlled manner he cultivated to hide his doubts guaranteed tonight’s search for company wouldn’t be unsuccessful.

  Sure enough, the stool beside his filled within minutes. He cast an approving glance over the neatly dressed blond with carefully disheveled hair and an obvious come-on visible in the pale blue eyes. Russ tried to ignore any perceived similarities to Ian. Everyone had a type, right?

  “You looking for a little holiday spirit?” The casual impact of the opening line was ruined by the way the words had to be shouted into his ear, but Russ gave the blond points for effort and held out his hand with a practiced and insincere smile.

  “Russ.”

  “Steve.”

  “How about I buy you a drink?” Russ let his palm drop from the introductory shake onto the thigh pressed close to his. He gave the quad a slight squeeze when it tensed under his grasp. Steve’s leg wasn’t as muscular as Ian’s, Russ thought, and then felt immediately ashamed of himself for the comparison.

  “Absolutely.” Steve smiled; obviously pleased by the success of his maneuvering and leaned in closer, eagerness apparent in every line of his lithe body. “So what do you do?”

  Immediately discouraged at having to play the same, tired old game even though he knew this was all part of the dance, Russ decided to cut to the chase before he changed his mind. “Do you really want to waste time on small talk?”

  Blue eyes blinked and then partially closed, warming with sure knowledge. “I guess I can get a drink at your place as well as here, can’t I?”

  They walked out together, Steve deliberately brushing his body against Russ and Russ just as deliberately trying to step away. Russ couldn’t hear what Steve murmured into his ear, but he nodded anyway. Now that they weren’t sitting the height difference between Steve and Ian became apparent. On the other hand, Steve’s blue eyes seemed darker, deeper, and closer to the color Russ imagined in the dim light. It made things easier. If Russ concentrated he could almost pretend—

  Russ stopped, disgusted by his original intentions. This impersonal hook-up wasn’t what Russ wanted, not really. He had let Mike convince him it would help, but in the end a meaningless encounter wouldn’t be fair to either Russ or Steve. For once, something wouldn’t be better than nothing.

  “What?” Steve asked, startled by the abrupt lack of motion. “Did you forget something?”

  “Look,” Russ said awkwardly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. You don’t deserve to be taken advantage of.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Steve laughed. “I’m a big boy. Let’s go have a good time.” He stepped closer into Russ’s personal space and placed his hand on Russ’s chest. “Just relax.”

  “No, really.” Russ backed away from the contact. If nothing else this experience showed him how foolish he was for thinking some stranger could satisfy his desire for Ian’s touch. “I’m sure you’re a great guy and all, but I can’t.”

  * * *

  The next morning Russ tried to hide at his desk. He didn’t want to see Mike, and even though he had walked away last night, he didn’t think he could face Ian without feeling ashamed. He had tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and by morning still hadn’t come to any coherent conclusions.

  He looked up, hoping for some divine intervention, and instead was confronted by the unblinking reminder his Easter project was due. He couldn’t work with those damn eyes staring at him. Russ picked up the stuffed anim
al and hurled it out of his cube, surprised at the exclamation that followed.

  “Hey there, big guy. Chill.” The yellow ears of the rabbit poked up over the side of his wall, Mike’s bright eyes right behind. “Mr. Fluffy is our friend. Let’s adjourn to the coffee machine, and you can tell me how your night went.”

  “Last night?” Ian’s blond head appeared over the other cube wall. Russ looked into his hazel eyes and then back at his desk as he quickly realized there was no escape. “What happened last night?”

  Mike smiled and the resemblance between him and the stuffed rabbit became obvious. Russ couldn’t help but glance at Ian again, and the two of them shared a quick, unspoken laugh at the similarity. “My man Russ here went out to work his magic and spread a little love out in the world. I’m about to pump him for the gory details. You want to join us?”

  Russ watched as the open expression on Ian’s face disappeared. He couldn’t help but cringe at the realization he had made Ian’s engaging smile fade away. He could now officially add dimple killer to the list of his sins.

  “Oh, uh, no. You guys go ahead.”

  Crap.

  Both Lacey and Sandy were chatting in front of the coffee machine. Russ stood sullenly to the side as Mike pushed past them, absently handing the yellow rabbit off to Lacey.

  “What do you guys think about decorating the office for Christmas?” Lacey asked excitedly. “I brought in garland, and tinsel, and some other stuff I found in my mom’s storage unit. Sandy brought some in too.” She tucked the rabbit under her arm, but Russ knew the damn thing was still looking at him. Why did he feel so guilty? He didn’t do anything.

  “I think it sucks.” Russ meant to hang back, but instead there he was. Mouth open, ready to insert foot. “How can I concentrate on the Easter deadline when everyone around me is all gaga about Christmas? And what’s up with you people anyway? There’s no snow; you can’t have a decent snowball fight. Nothing in this state even reminds me that it’s supposed to be Christmas other than the stupid music and some decorations on a palm tree.”

  Four pairs of eyes stared at Russ after his outburst. Mike, Sandy, Lacey, and the damn rabbit. Make that five—Ian had walked up beside them. Lacey looked ready to cry.

  “Somebody woke up on the McGrumpy side of the bed this morning.” Sandy shook her head. “We really need to work on your attitude, Russ. I count on you to help keep the morale of the team high.”

  “You didn’t score last night, did you.” It wasn’t a question. Mike shook his head sorrowfully. “Don’t worry. I’m not out of ideas yet. We can still fix this.”

  * * *

  “You think the holly will look all right over here?” Ian asked. “We can go all around the ceiling with the longer pieces and then maybe add some of the contrast color and those hanging paper things Sandy left.”

  “Sure.” Russ was still confused as to how he had been talked into staying after work to hang Christmas decorations with Ian. Unable to concentrate after the scene at the coffee machine, he’d sat at his desk in a daze, so busy avoiding Mike and his thousand and one suggestions that he couldn’t remember what he had agreed to when Lacey and Sandy cornered him at his desk and read him the riot act.

  At least Ian was talking to him again instead of silently watching him. “Why are we doing this when I’m supposed to be thinking Easter thoughts?” Russ asked.

  “Christmas? Happy Holidays? Season’s Greetings?” Ian grunted, stretching his arm higher as he stepped back to check the position of the garland. “Any of those ring a bell?”

  “But it’s not even snowing. How can anybody get excited about the holidays when it doesn’t snow?” Russ knew he was repeating himself, but he had to struggle not to stare at Ian’s ass despite the way he morphed into Suzy Decorator right before Russ’s disbelieving eyes.

  “Why are you living in Florida, exactly?” Obviously not satisfied Ian moved the stand of garland an inch higher and gave Russ another one of the weird looks he’d been giving him all day.

  Distracted, Russ answered without thinking. “Because it was as far from home as I could get at the time.” Shocked at the truth he had given away, Russ swayed and almost fell off the wheeled chair he balanced on in lieu of much-needed but nonexistent ladder. He grabbed at his end of the long streamer of fake holly before it could hit the floor.

  He looked to see if Ian had caught his slip. Ian had taken off his gray, button-down shirt, and the black, sleeveless undershirt worn underneath it did nothing to hide a single muscle from Russ’s overactive libido. Russ tried to change the subject before Ian could respond. “Is it hot in here?”

  “Nah, just you.” Ian grinned at him, lean cheeks crinkling into those familiar dimples, and Russ’s strange feeling deepened. “Mike would say you’re having a hot flash.”

  “Mike’s an ass.” Russ used his free hand to wipe at the sweat collected on his forehead. Talk about torture. He stared at the tufts of coarse hair visible when Ian raised his arm overhead once again, biceps bulging and forearms flexing as he held the reflective green strands against the corner in yet another position. Russ swore under his breath and shifted to find a more comfortable fit in his trousers.

  “He’s your friend,” Ian teased as he used the Lacey’s stapler to tack the garland to the wall. “Actually, he’s told me a lot about you.”

  “Lies, all of it vicious lies.” Russ replied automatically, busy watching Ian step lightly off the chair he stood on (no wheels, the lucky bastard) and walk across the room to Russ.

  “Some of it’s pretty interesting.” Russ struggled not to notice that when Ian stopped, his face stayed level with Russ’s crotch. “Apparently you are quite the legend.” Ian’s voice sounded lower than usual, rougher. Russ felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity. He knew Ian, didn’t he?

  “Shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” The sweat rolled down Russ’s face, and Ian’s closeness made him twitch uncomfortably. Why wouldn’t Ian stop looking at him?

  “I’ve learned all about how you don’t do relationships. How you only like one-night stands and never do the same guy twice.” Ian licked his lips, and Russ tried not to fixate on the moisture-slicked surfaces. “Put together with some of the stuff you’ve told me, and it’s all beginning to make sense.”

  “Did I mention Mike has a really big mouth?” Russ replied weakly. Pink. Ian’s lips were a pale pink. God, he was in trouble. He was definitely going to kill Mike tomorrow, right after he killed himself.

  “The only question I kept asking myself was why you never hit on me. And you know what?”

  Russ swallowed, unable to answer as Ian’s hands moved in slow motion before coming to rest on Russ’s thighs. “I think you’re afraid you’ll come back for more.”

  The chair rocked with Russ’s sudden jerk, only Ian’s firm grip keeping him upright. Oh shit. Russ’s mind went totally blank.

  Ian was right.

  “Russ?”

  “Yeah?” Russ stared down into Ian’s hazel eyes. They were more gold than green tonight. Arousal, sharp and unexpected, jolted through him as Ian turned his head and rested his cheek against the front of Russ’s pants.

  “You can let go of the holly now,” Ian whispered. Russ swore he felt the heat of Ian’s breath despite the fabric as he shivered. His arms dropped to his sides and he didn’t know what to do next. After telling himself Ian was off-limits for so long, this new and surprisingly grabby Ian had him totally blindsided.

  “Are you going to make me climb on that chair?” Ian smiled, not his usual cheerful grin, but one darker and edged with purpose. Russ thought there should be singe marks on his pants where Ian’s palms rested on his ass and urged him down to the floor with gentle pressure.

  “Ian?” Russ questioned unsteadily as he obeyed Ian’s commanding grasp and allowed himself to drawn off the chair. “What are you doing?”

  “Don’t worry, Russ.” Ian’s deep voice soothed Russ as he tightened his grip on Russ’s hips and pulled him close enough to
press their lips together. “You’ll figure it out.”

  4

  Russ wouldn’t even have called the delicate caress a kiss. Just a light brush that made Russ close his eyes to better concentrate on the sensations the faint pressure roused. He tried to remember all his reasons why this was such a bad idea but couldn’t come up with one. This was good. This was better than good. He knew Ian’s lips curved into their ever-present smile as he stepped back and started to speak, but Russ decided he didn’t want to hear any more words.

  He let his fingers trail across Ian’s muscular forearms, holding Ian’s hands on his hips. Russ kept his eyes shut, afraid to look up as he chased after Ian’s lips, and he shuddered when Ian eagerly slid his tongue into Russ’s mouth. Their lips caught and held as they learned each other’s flavor.

  Coffee and cherry candy. Ian tasted a combination of the two, and Russ thought he’d die for the right to kiss Ian like this all day—long, sweet, and slow. He felt overheated and dizzy with the reality of Ian pressed up against him. His head spun, and he didn’t notice when Ian moved them toward the couch in the foyer until the cushioned edge bumped the back of his thighs

  “Russ.” Ian sighed as he finally broke the kiss. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Ian was using that voice again. Russ’s breath caught in his throat, and his eyes squeezed shut with the surge of desire created by the low rumble. “Whatever you want?” he finally managed to force out, unable to help the way he turned the statement into a question.

  Ian chuckled. A low, heated noise that made Russ shiver in response. Ian stroked one big hand down Russ’s back to the curve of his ass, and long, clever fingers pressed against the seam of Russ’s pants, massaging the material deeper into the crease.

  “Oh hell.” Unable to help himself, Russ covered the line of Ian’s jaw with wet, open-mouthed kisses and ground his crotch onto Ian’s leg, seeking the pressure of the firm muscle against the hard ridge of his cock.