Page 9 of His Christmas Love Song

When he gets to cabin 14, he struggles with the key and the food for a minute, then wises up and puts the bag down on the wooden step. He’s got the key in the lock when the door opens unexpectedly, Ryan on the other side.

His friend looks like he just woke up, his light brown hair all mashed on one side, his cheeks covered in more than one day of stubble. He’s wearing a long-sleeved gray T-shirt and tattered plaid pants Jesse’s pretty sure he’s owned since the Peace Corps days. He’s just staring at Jesse and Jesse realizes he’s staring back.

“So are you coming in or what?” Ryan’s voice is sleep rough.

Jesse swallows. It’s not like he doesn’t know Ryan’s attractive. He’s had a first-row seat to Ryan’s attractiveness for six years. But he doesn’t think about it all the time. How could he—he’d never get anything done if all he thought about was the way Ryan’s shoulders fill out his always slightly-too-small shirts and the way his pretty pink tongue sticks out of his mouth a little bit when he’s concentrating real hard. So it takes him by surprise sometimes, when he looks at Ryan and really sees him.

How is anyone who looks like Ryan still single?

“I brought breakfast,” he says belatedly. “And coffee.” He hands Ryan the cup and reaches down for the bag.

“Coffee. I love you,” Ryan says. He’s inhaling steam from the cup, so Jesse’s pretty sure he’s declaring his love for the coffee, not Jesse, but there’s still something about the phrase that makes Jesse’s stomach jump.

“You’ll love the biscuits, too,” Jesse says, trying to shake off the weird mood he’s been in all morning. He shuts the door behind them, follows Ryan to the little kitchenette in the corner of the main room. He finds a plate and a set of cutlery in a cabinet and unpacks the food.

“You ate?” Ryan asks, after he’s drunk about half the coffee in one go.

“Yeah. Stuffed. You gotta try this marmalade.” He takes the plate to the coffee table. “And maybe later we can go for a walk or something. It’s a beautiful day. Not cold at all.”

Ryan’s bottom lip pops out in a pout. “You said there’d be snow.”

Jesse looks away from Ryan’s mouth. “Yeah. I know. I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

He can’t help seeing Ryan’s lips curve into a smile out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, you do that, Jess.”

Jesse chokes out a laugh, feeling odd in his skin. What the hell is going on with him? He’s about to steal a piece of Ryan’s bacon when there’s a chiming noise. Ryan’s phone.

Ryan pulls it out of his pocket, reads the message. “It’s Hank. He wants to do dinner with us later.”

Right, Hank. And Cameron. And the album. There are way more important things going on than whatever Jesse’s stupid stomach is doing whenever Ryan’s attention is on him. They’re here to make Ryan happy. That’s all that matters to Jesse.

“Awesome. Tell him we’re in.”

FIVE

“So he’s cooking for us? We should bring something, like a bottle of wine,” Ryan calls through the open door of his bedroom as they’re getting ready to head to Hank’s for an early dinner. Apparently, Dr. Moore lives in the main lodge building and has his own kitchen. Ryan hopes he’s a good cook because they skipped lunch and he’s starving.

“We’re fresh out of wine, but I do have some bourbon,” Jesse says a moment later, appearing at the door holding a bottle of dark amber liquid. “Brought it for us, but I guess we can always get more.”

“Good call.” This is what Ryan means when he says Jesse’s better at everything than him. Of course he’d have the perfect host gift just lying around, while Ryan’s having trouble picking a shirt to wear.

“Wear the green one,” Jesse says, pointing to the shirt Ryan had already considered and discarded on the bed. Before Ryan can argue, he disappears. He’s almost about to wear the brown one out of spite, but Jesse’s probably right. Green’s more festive for Christmas, anyway. He buttons up the shirt, tucks it into his best pair of jeans. Cowboy boots, hair combed, and he’s ready for a nice night out. Most of the time he dresses down, but he enjoys polishing up once in a while. If they were in Tennessee, he’d probably don his cowboy hat, but that seems like overkill for Vermont.

Jesse’s dressed similarly in jeans, boots, and a dark blue button down made fancier by a bit of white stitching. He’s recently shaved, and Ryan can’t help but notice how good he smells, even from across the room.

By unspoken agreement they hadn’t done any work today, just lazed around the cabin, then went for a walk around the property and into the foothills behind the lodge. The fresh air and exercise felt good, and it was a relief not to have to think about the next stop on the tour, gearing up the mental and emotional energy for live performing. Jesse had been quiet, for him at least. When they got back to the cabin, he’d gone to take a nap before dinner, while Ryan called his mom and his sister to catch up.

“Got your coat?” Jesse asks before they leave the cabin. Ryan’s about to protest that he doesn’t need it, but now that the sun’s down there’s plenty of chill in the air and he grabs it. Jesse has the bourbon and together they walk down the road to the lodge.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Ryan asks.

“Huh?” Jesse looks as if he’s been miles away.

“The Christmas album. I know we have to do some covers, but we have to decide which ones, and we’ll have at least a few original songs. What do you want to work on first?” Ryan hadn’t exactly wanted to do a Christmas album, but he does have to admit their fans would love it, and it would be one less album he owes the studio on his contract. He and Jesse have never put out a joint album before, either. If it goes well, maybe they’ll do another one of all originals.

“Oh, right. Well, we could start with the covers, figure out the mood, and then fill in with some of our own. You got anything Christmassy I haven’t heard?”

Ryan’s about to give him a hard no, but he reconsiders. He’s got a ballad he worked on last winter and never finished. He could tweak it, give it a holiday gloss. “Maybe. You?”