Page 52 of The Christmas Accomplice

For the love of Frosty, knock on the door before your balls freeze off.

Reece knocked. Welton opened the door moments later, smiling as he crossed his arms against the cold.

“Hi. Come inside, it’s freezing out there.”

“Hi.” The fire was going and the room was warm, encouraging him to pull off his hat and gloves and unzip his parka. “You sure my stopping by is okay?”

“Yeah. Yes, absolutely. I bought a bottle of wine from the lobby bar. I hope you like pinot noir?”

Reece shrugged out of his coat, watching Welton’s back as he headed for the kitchen. He wore plaid sleep pants with a long-sleeved cotton pullover and thick wool socks. It was amazing and more than a little scary how comfortable and welcome he felt there. The moment seemed natural to him, like he was coming home from work and Welton was there waiting for him, a bottle of wine opened and ready. When Welton reached the tiles in the small kitchen, he slid across the floor, acting like an ice skater but with socks instead of blades. It made Reece smile, then laugh quietly, and a deeper feeling of relaxation warmed him even more as he bent to untie his boots.

“You were really good tonight at karaoke,” Reece said.

Welton poked his head around the wall and gave him a disbelieving look. “I know that’s a big lie.”

“No, really. It took a lot of courage to get up in front of everyone and do that.”

Welton ducked back behind the wall, then reappeared carrying two wine glasses practically filled with red wine.

“That’s a very generous pour,” Reece said as he took one of the glasses and carefully placed it on the table before sitting on one end of the couch.

“I didn’t want to get up to pour us another.”

Welton settled on the opposite end of the couch with his back against the arm rest, knees bent and his feet on the cushion, toes tucked under Reece’s thigh. Reece put an arm around Welton’s knees and sipped the wine.

“Good choice.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

They each took another sip as the fire danced, throwing shadows around the room. Reece realized he heard a Christmas carol quietly playing and cocked his head until he recognized it as “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear,” but by a singer he didn’t recognize.

“This is really nice,” Reece said. “I think this is most relaxed I’ve felt in weeks.”

“I’d feel relaxed, too, if it wasn’t for the bundle of nerves in my belly.”

“You’re nervous?”

Welton considered that a moment. “Maybe nervous isn’t the right description. Anxious? But the good version of anxious, like excited for something, not the bad version.”

“What are you anxious for?”

Welton gave him an innocent look and said, “Christmas morning,” before taking another sip of wine.

Reece laughed. “Oh, you think you’ve been good enough this year for Santa to pay you a visit?”

“Better than most people.”

“That didn’t really answer my question.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Again, that innocent look that made Reece want to carry Welton up the stairs and ravage him.

“And that’s avoiding the question.”

“Is it?”

Reece took a longer drink of wine and leaned forward to set the glass on the coffee table. He took Welton’s glass from his hand and placed it next to his own. Locking his eyes on Welton’s, he nudged his knees apart and slowly crawled up over his torso until he supported himself looking directly down at him.

“Are you still anxious?”