Kris T. Bethke–Author of M/M Romance

**A little Admiral shaped birdie told me about a birthday today.  And he may have mentioned Marines.  Happy Birthday, Shell!  May it be filled with joy and awesome!**

The office was quiet, the phones not ringing non-stop for once, and I idly twirled in my chair with my head leaned back.  It was making me dizzy but I didn’t care.  My heart hurt and everything else was secondary.

Seventeen months, fourteen days, and eleven hours since the last time I saw him.  The sporadic tweets, phone calls, and Skype sessions weren’t enough.  I was relieved and grateful every time I got a chance to talk to him, to know he was well and whole and alive, but the separation and the distance were wearing on me.  I knew it was a possibility from the moment we started dating.  He could be deployed at any time, sent into a war zone or some other country.  And I could do nothing but wait and worry and pray that he would come home to me alive.

It was the only downside of being the boyfriend of a Marine, but it was a big one.  At least I took comfort in the fact that if something happened to him now, I’d be informed.  When we’d started dating, DADT had still been in effect.  Thank God things had changed.

“What’s up, buttercup?”

Shell’s warm brown eyes smiled down at me, her red hair falling into her face as she peered at me from above.  She looked odd upside down, and I couldn’t help the grin, even if it was half-hearted.

She plonked herself in her chair—her desk was next to mine—and used her foot to turn my chair so we were facing each other.  Her expression became concerned the longer she studied me.   I tried for a more genuine smile.  I failed.

“Wes?”  Shell’s tone was soft, filled with worry.  I heaved a sigh.

“Jared didn’t call last night.  He was supposed to.”  Saying it out loud made the worry return full force.  It wasn’t the first time he’d missed a check in.  There was no telling when he’d be sent on a mission or if he’d have to unexpectedly go silent.  He usually let me know if he could, but that wasn’t always possible.  Even knowing that, it didn’t stop the fear and the worry that the worst had happened.

Shell’s gave me a supportive smile.  “I’m sure he’s fine.”  Her voice was firm, as if she was trying to convince us both.  But she knew what I was going through.  She was married to a Marine, even if her husband was currently stationed at the nearby base.

“Yeah, I know.”

She shook her head.  “No, don’t.  He’s fine.  I know it.”

There was something in her voice, a conviction, which made me sit up straight and squint at her.  She knew more than she was letting on.  I opened my mouth to demand answers when a commotion by the doors caught my attention.  I couldn’t see what was going on exactly, but I went quiet, trying to hear.

Shell had no such boundaries.  She jumped to her feet, then grabbed my wrist and tugged me up.  I had no choice but to trail behind her as dragged me through the maze of desks.  I tried to shake her loose, but damn that woman had a strong grip.

The desks stopped right before the lobby area, and it was only when we reached the carpeted expanse that she let me go.  I rubbed my wrist where her nails had dug into my skin and aimed a scowl at her.  The smirk on her face gave me pause, and slowly, I turned in the direction she was staring.

The dress blues registered first, the uniform snug to a well-muscled frame.  The highly polished shoes, the cover tucked under his arm, I took it all in unconsciously, not even registering for a moment who stood before me.  The instant I recognized the face, my heart dropped into my stomach only to immediately bounce back into my throat.

Corporal Jared Connors stood there, looking a little worse for the wear but hale, healthy, and whole.  Tears filled my eyes, and my heart started pounding.

“What?  How?  What?”

Jared just grinned.

I threw myself at him, squeezing him tight with both arms and legs.  He was real.  He was here.  I didn’t know how it was possible but the feel of him against me, his smell and his warmth, it wasn’t my imagination.  He held me so tightly I couldn’t draw breath, but it didn’t matter.  I hadn’t been breathing while he was gone anyway, a few more minutes wasn’t going to matter.  I buried my face in his neck and just cried.

“Hey baby,” his voice was low and soft and the most perfect thing I had ever heard in my life.

“What are you doing here?” I blurted, my voice sounding nasally.

“I was granted leave.  So I came home.”  He set me back on my feet and took my face in his hands.  “Needed to see you.”

I sniffed loudly, my gaze roving all over that beloved face.  “And you didn’t tell me?”  It was an accusation but it just made him laugh.  I’d been wrong before.  That was the most perfect sound.

“Surprise.”

Whatever my reply would have been was lost in a spine tingling, toe curling, knee weakening kiss.   Later when I saw the video someone had taken, I would notice the love shining in his eyes, the way I clung to him as if I’d never let him go, the entire office bursting into applause and cheers.  But in that moment, my entire focus was on the man in my arms, grateful and happy and loving that he was with me again.

**An alliteration from the Admiral this week: Amsterdam, anchovies, and anger management classes. Now, I love me some alliteration, but this one took some thought.  Enjoy!**

“Ray?”

I smiled at the sound of my boyfriend’s voice.  I loved it when he came home to me.  “Kitchen!”

Kyle walked in carrying a pizza box.  My stomach rumbled, and he gave me a full out grin.  But the moment he placed the box on the counter and flipped open the lid, my hunger fled.  I fixed him with a harsh glare.

“Anchovies?” I hissed.

He blinked.  “Only on half.”

It didn’t matter.  They were disgusting, and the smell got everywhere.  He liked them, but I fucking hated them.  And now I couldn’t eat my damn pizza.

“That’s just great!” I shouted.  “I’m fucking starving, and you ruined dinner!”

He tried for a smile.  “It’s like Amsterdam all over again.”

“That wasn’t my fucking fault!” I raged.  His attempt at humor wasn’t appreciated.  I was beyond pissed.  “And fuck you for bringing it up!”

Kyle’s face became a mask, showing no emotion.  Very slowly he reached out and flipped the lid of the box closed.  The he looked at me with dead eyes.  “Yeah.  Okay.”

He turned and walked right out of the house.  I watched him go before picking up a glass and hurling it at the wall.  It shattered with a satisfying crunch.  I stood there, breathing heavily, anger pouring through my veins.

Over anchovies.

Fuck.

I knew better than this.  My temper had always gotten the better of me, and I’d overreacted on more than one occasion.  It had landed me in jail, and I served three months.  I’d done the anger management classes, took the lessons to heart, and really changed myself.  But lately, the anger had been welling up and I’d been letting my temper leak out.

Tonight I’d exploded over pizza.  That was fucking ridiculous.  I got the broom and dust pan, and quickly cleared up the mess I’d made.  When I was finished, I closed my eyes, found my center, and did some deep breathing.  Now that I’d gotten myself back under control, I felt ashamed at my behavior.

I grabbed my keys from the counter, and hustled out of the house to go track Kyle down.  He’d stuck by me through the worst of it.  I’d never laid a hand on him, and I never would, but he’d endured me screaming and railing.  I’d ruined our vacation in Amsterdam last year and he still hadn’t left me.  I needed to fix this and fast.

It turned out I didn’t have to go far.  Kyle was sitting on the porch steps, and I saw him stiffen when he heard the front door open. He didn’t turn around.  I kept my steps careful and slow as I approached him, then sat down next to him leaving plenty of space.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice low and full of contrition.

“I know,” he murmured.  He didn’t look at me.

I felt like shit.  As I should.  There was no excuse for my behavior and I didn’t bother to try.  “I love you.”

He nodded, and then repeated, “I know.”

“I know I’ve been grumpy lately—“

His unamused snort interrupted me, and I had to give a self-deprecating chuckle.

“All right, I’ve been an ass lately, and behaving awfully.”  I took a deep breath and focused all my attention on him.  “I’ll get back into the classes.  Clearly I need to work the program again.”

Kyle blew out a breath and his shoulders relaxed, his posture opening up.  I might be an asshole, with serious anger issues, but I never lied.  He knew I would get back into anger management classes if I said I would.

“Thank you.”  His voice was soft.  He shook his head, and then finally looked at me.  “I know how much you hate anchovies.  I shouldn’t have gotten them at all.”

“No.”  My denial was quick.  “Don’t take any of this on yourself.  That whole scene back there was all me.”

He nodded.  “Yeah, but I’m not talking about that.  Yes, your reaction was completely uncalled for and disproportionate to the situation.  Which is why you’re going to start the classes again and be reminded how to deal.”  He glanced up at me for conformation, and I nodded fast.  He smiled.  “What I’m talking about is me being rather thoughtless.  I should have gotten two pizzas.”

I smiled at that.  It was one of the many reasons I loved him so much.  Kyle never shirked responsibility.  And while he wasn’t in any way to blame for the way I reacted, I really appreciated that he was willing to admit he wasn’t perfect.  I slid across the step until we were pressed up against each other.

“I’ll call my counselor in the morning and see when and where I can go, okay?”

“Thank you,” he said again.  He snuggled into my side, and I lifted an arm to pull him close.  We’d be all right.  I was going to make sure of it.  Kyle gave a content sounding sigh and then said, “I love you.”

“I love you,” I responded fervently.  I dropped a kiss in his hair, taking a second to inhale the scent of his shampoo. Then I pulled back and looked him in the eye.  “Wanna go out for Chinese?”

**This one was a definite challenge, which I know pleases the Admiral.  Cultural differences, a misunderstanding, and a farewell trip, led me to this.  I hope you like it**

A year.  I’d been living and working at the corporate headquarters in Weimar, Germany for an entire year.  Nose to the grindstone, shoulder to shoulder with a team of exceedingly intelligent men and women.  I’d been a fish out of water when I first arrived, the lone American on the project, and the only reason I’d been sent was because I had a good grasp of the language.  I’d been fortunate that the team I worked with took a liking to me and showed me the sights and only teased me a little when I didn’t understand some of the cultural differences.  They were good friends, and I’d come to rely on them. I was going to miss the holy hell out of them now that the project was completed and I was going home.

Even if not one single one of the fuckers could be bothered to throw me a going away party.

I shouldn’t have expected it, but I thought we were closer than that.  I thought they would miss me too, and would want to send me off in style.  As the date of my departure got closer, and still no one said anything, I thought perhaps it would be a surprise party.  But my train was leaving bright and early the next morning, it was nearly ten o’clock at night, and still nothing.  If I were completely honest, I was broken hearted about the whole thing.

I resigned myself to spending my last night in Germany on my own.  It hurt, but I’d deal with it.  I changed into my sleep wear and set about packing up the last of my things.  I’d already shipped several boxes home to the states, and since it was a company apartment, not much of what was left was mine.  I had two large suitcases and a duffle bag left, and I’d take that with me on the train to Berlin, and home on the plane.

The sudden pounding on my door scared the ever living shit out of me.  I took a moment to get myself under control before I cracked it open, then threw it wide.  Johann was a thing of beauty, tall, blond, and muscular.  He had a sharp wit, and a clever mind.  I’d been nursing a crush on the man for pretty much my entire stay.  But he’d never given me any indication that he was even the slightest bit interested, and since I didn’t want to get killed in a foreign country, I kept my mouth shut.

He sauntered in with that commanding swagger he had, and looked me straight in the eye.  “We all wonder why you never throw a party,” he said, his English a little stilted but his tone matter-of-fact.  “I think maybe you don’t know you should?”

I blinked, utterly confused.  “What?”

He gave me his patient smile.  “Here, when you go, you throw your own…” he trailed off for a moment, seemingly searching, and then his blue eyes lit up. “Goodbye party?  Is right term, yes?”

I took a minute to let that sink in.  “Really?”

Johann nodded, his grin shining.  “You leave tomorrow, so there is no time.  Instead, you and I, we take a trip.  I changed your flight home, and we’ll go on a…” His brow creased for a moment.  “A farewell trip.”

“Johann,” I said slowly, cautiously.  I loved the idea, of course.  But if it were just the two of us, I knew I would do something to show my interest and that could be all kind of disastrous.  More than that, I couldn’t figure out why Johann would want to do this.  We were close, yes, but a trip?  No, that wasn’t a good idea.  “I appreciate you wanting to make up for the misunderstanding but–”

Johann just shook his head and took a step closer to me, forcing me to look up at him and making my words dry up.  His blue eyes were soft with affection, and it took my breath away.  When he reached out to cup my cheek, my knees nearly buckled.

“You misunderstand,” he said quietly, emphasizing the word.  “It’s not because I want to ‘make up.’”  He stopped then, and continued on in German, apparently feeling like it would be easier to explain himself in his native tongue.  “You are leaving tomorrow, and I do not want to be parted from you.  So we will take this trip before you go home, get to know each other, so that when my transfer to the states comes through, we will be ready to start our relationship.”

“What?  I don’t–What?”

Johann captured me in his arms.  “You are not as subtle as you think, Kevin.  But this is not the safest place to be together, ja?  In your New York, it will be better.”

I nodded fast, all the feelings that had been building for the last year bubbling up.  He must have seen that on my face, because his grin was beautiful.  He bent toward me, but stopped before our lips touched.  “We will take this trip and then I will come to you in New York.”

It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyway.  “Yes.”

The kiss tasted like promise and heat.  It was the best kiss of my life.

**Challenge director started the New Year off with a bang.  “Peonies,” he said with (what I imagine was) a slightly devilish smile. “And butter.  And a bed and breakfast.”  So here you go.  Enjoy!**

It was supposed to be a quiet, relaxing four day getaway to celebrate our anniversary.  Mason had planned the whole thing as a surprise, and I was more than willing to go along.  Even though I had to beg, plead, trade favors, and work overtime in order to get the time off from work.  We’d spent too much time apart lately, and we were in desperate need of reconnecting.  I couldn’t wait to have his undivided attention for four whole days, and to give him mine.

The bed and breakfast was practically on the shore of Lake George.  It was open year round, but since it was the off season, Mason had gotten a really good rate.  The drive had been long, and I wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower, crawl between the sheets, and wrap my body around Mason’s.

The little elderly lady behind the desk checked us in quickly and efficiently.  I was actually surprised when we got a sweet smile and a pat on the hand instead of disgusted looks.  Mason took care of everything, and then assured the nice woman that we could find our room on our own when she handed over the key.

Tromping up the stairs, it wasn’t hard to locate which door was ours.  Mason unlocked it, then pushed the door open.  He stood back to allow me to enter first, and I gave him a tired smile as I stepped past him.  And stopped dead.

It had a king sized bed, which was nice.  But that was the only redeeming quality.  I rubbed my eyes, then blinked twice, just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.  I wasn’t.  The room was covered in flowers. Big pink blooms.  On the wall paper.  On the bedspread.  In the art on the walls and in a vase on the table.  They were everywhere.

I did the slow pan over the Mason.  He just laughed and gave a shrug.

“She did call it the Peony Room.”  He gave me a nudge out of his way, then pulled his suitcase in and shut the door.

I was still staring at him like he was nuts.  Then glanced around the room again.  My eyes nearly fell right out of my head.  “Butter.”

Mason gave me a puzzled frown.  “What’s that now?”

I gestured toward the tray where a peony covered teapot sat alongside a plate of cookies and muffins.  “The butter.   Even the pads of butter are carved into little peony shapes.  Who the hell does that?

Mason’s deep laugh made me scowl.  “Rory, honey, stop focusing on the flowers and start focusing on the fact that we’re alone together for four whole days with nothing to do but enjoy each other.  Be a good boy and unpack your suitcase.  Then I’ll help you take a shower.”  The eyebrow waggle was cute, but still my scowl deepened.  He reached out and flipped the lock on the door.

Since Mason wouldn’t let me get out of this monstrosity of a room, I did as he requested and unpacked my suitcase.  I grumbled the whole time, but I did it.  He was much more efficient than I was, and within a few minutes, he wandered into the en suite.  I heard the water turn on.  I moved quicker, wanting this task to be done.  I didn’t want Mason to start without me.

I’d just slid the last drawer closed when he appeared in the doorway.  His dark eyes were hooded, and he looked at me like he wanted to eat me.  I swallowed hard.  I loved it when he looked at me that way.

“Take off your clothes, sweetheart, and come see what I found.”

I stripped fast.  Mason disappeared in that moment I was pulling my shirt over my head.  When the rest of my clothes were in a heap on the floor, I practically ran to the bathroom.  Mason stood in the middle of the tiled floor, just as naked as I was, with a secret smile on his face.  He took a step to the side, and the sweep of his arm drew my gaze to what was behind him.

A tub.  A real claw-foot person sized tub.  Filled with steaming water, and looking like heaven on earth.  The noise I made was not exactly dignified, but Mason just laughed, took my hand and led me closer.  He steadied me as I climbed in.  The heat felt delicious as I sank down into the water.  My whole body gave a satisfied shudder.  And then Mason joined me, sliding in behind me and pulling my back up tight to his front.

I relaxed completely.  For the first time in what felt like ages, every muscle in my body was loose, all the tension gone.  Mason wrapped his arms around my waist, and one of his hands rubbed at my stomach.  A prelude to what would come later.  Right now, we were just enjoying each other.

I tipped my head back onto his shoulder and nosed along his jaw until he turned his head so that I could kiss him.  The pink blooms in our room notwithstanding, this was turning out to be an awesome vacation by virtue of this tub—and the man inside it with me—alone.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” Mason said softly as he broke the kiss.

I just grinned.  “Happy anniversary.”

**Okay, this one…this one is a little different.  When challenge director said old man, candle, and the end of the year, this is what I saw immediately.  I hope you like it.**

I was not as agile as I used to be.  But I still had my wits about me, still held tradition close to my heart.  If I needed the cane to move around, I wasn’t too proud to use it.  If my hand shook as I placed the candle on the windowsill, it was at least sure enough that I didn’t drop it. If my fingers weren’t quite nimble enough to use the lighter, at least I could hold a match.

These days, I didn’t stay up late.  The mind was willing, but the body was feeling its years.  Maybe not quite as many as its actual age, but I was no longer a young man.  But on this day, I would remain awake.  Because there was something important I had to do.  And I had taken a nap earlier.

The house was quiet and still.  In a few more years, I probably wouldn’t be able to live on my own.  But that time hadn’t come yet, and for that, I was grateful. I needed to be here for this to mean something.  This house, this hour, this day.

“Grandpa?”

The tentative voice made me smile, and I turned just my head until I could see my grandson, my namesake, the boy who was my spitting image.  The boy looked so much like I had at his age it was uncanny.  We’d always been close, and it was the relationship I valued most in the world.

Michael stood in the doorway, holding the hand of his boyfriend and looking uncertain.  A cryptic message from his grandfather had probably gotten the boy all worked up.  No, not a boy.  He was twenty five and had been in a loving, committed relationship with Jacob for a couple of years now.

He’d been so nervous to tell me, certain that his macho, Marine veteran grandfather would turn his back on him once I found out he was gay.  He’d never expected my immediate acceptance. Though I had never told him why, tonight that would change.

“Come in, gentlemen,” I said softly.  My voice had mellowed in the last few years, and I spoke even more softly because of the occasion.  They both walked in and I motioned for them to sit on the sofa.  Michael looked a little scared, and Jacob sat closely by as if his presence could give Michael strength.  I was sure it did.

Once they were seated, I eased myself down into the recliner, making sure that I was still close enough to the window to light the candle once my story was finished.  It took me a minute to get situated, and Michael started to fidget.  Jacob’s firm hand on his knee helped to calm him.  I smiled.

“When I served in Korea, I fell in love,” I began.  “With another Marine in my platoon.  Carl was the most beautiful boy in the world, and we stole every secret moment we could to be together.”

Michael gasped, shock all over his face.  Then his expression morphed into a little bit of hurt.  “What?”

“Let him tell it, sweetheart,” Jacob murmured.

I nodded gratefully.  “We made plans, you see.  To get out, and be together once we were home.  When I mustered out first, Carl stole a kiss and told me to light a candle for him, that he would find me.”

I had to stop and take a breath, willing the tears not to fall.  “He didn’t make it home.  He died in combat.  On New Year’s Eve, 1952.  I would never see my beautiful boy again.  But I still light a candle for him, every year.”

The match shook in my hand as I tried to light it.  I struck it once, twice, but the little flint wouldn’t catch.  I bit back the curse, and tried again.  Suddenly, warm hands covered mine, and I looked up to see my grandson kneeling at my feet.  With a gentle smile, he took the book of matches from me, lit one, and gently held the flame to the candle until the wick caught.  The three of use remained quiet, and I kept my eyes fixed on that flame.

The memories were hard.  Carl’s smile made the sun pale in comparison, and his big, deep laugh could make even the most stoic of men crack.  He’d been a charmer, and I’d fallen for him within hours of meeting him.  I’d missed him every day of the last sixty-two years.  But on New Year’s Eve, when I lit his candle, I felt closest to him.  As if he was helping me let another year go and bring the next year in with his love surrounding me.

I lifted a hand and rested it on the top of Michael’s head.  He looked up at me with tears shining in his blue eyes.  He pressed my hand against his cheek, and I saw the love and understanding in his eyes.  He’d forgiven me for never telling him about myself.  And that was what I’d needed.

“I’m a sentimental old fool,” I said, my voice raspy with emotion.  “But I hope, when I’m gone, you’ll light Carl’s candle in my stead.”

Michael opened his mouth, then closed it.  He swallowed hard, squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then opened them to look me straight in the eye.

“We’ll light a candle for you both.”

**Challenge director issued a Christmas challenge, with a star, a donkey, and marshmallows.   I hope you enjoy!**

“The donkey is out again.”

I stared at my boyfriend in disbelief, but when I realized he wasn’t joking, I threw the clipboard with more vehemence than was necessary.  “What.  The.  Fuck?  Why can’t that fucker stay where he’s fucking supposed to?”

Colin sucked in a fast breath, his gaze darting around the narthex where we were standing.  When his attention landed on me, his expression was stern.  Okay, so swearing in a church probably wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had, but that fucking donkey was going to be the end of me.

When Colin talked me in to helping him organize the living nativity, I agreed because I thought it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.  And also because of his eyes.  Colin could work the puppy dog eyes with the best of them.  I was a sucker for his big blue eyes any day of the week.  But when they turned wide and pleading, I couldn’t deny him anything.

Properly chastised, I headed outside so that I could corral the wayward donkey.  The cow stayed where she was put, happily munching on hay.  Even the two fluffy sheep were happy to hang out in the corral we’d built around the patch of grass that served as the church’s front lawn.  But that damn donkey was a wily little fucker, and he kept escaping.

I found him ten feet down the road, plodding along like he didn’t have a care in the world.  Considering he was a donkey, he probably didn’t.  I grabbed the trailing lead rope that was attached to his halter.  Thankfully, the donkey was just as happy to change directions and head back toward the church.

Once I had him safely in the pen—again—I tied the rope to the post on the crèche and hoped this time he would stay put.  Other volunteers milled around, putting the final touches on the scene. The sun would be going down soon, and with the lights strategically placed to illuminate the actors, anyone who chose to drive or walk by was in for a real treat.

I wasn’t a religious man, and I certainly didn’t attend church.  But I didn’t begrudge Colin the peace that he found in worshipping or being a part of the community.  He was my reason for everything, so he was the reason I was here organizing and corralling humans and animals alike.  Besides, Christmas was a week away, and even a curmudgeon like me could get into the holiday spirit.  Especially when I had a blue eyed angel asking me to.

I futzed around with the last of the décor, wanting it to look good so that my man’s efforts were noticed and recognized.  Colin was a flurry of activity, scrambling to get everyone and everything in their places.  It looked fantastic to me, and I actually grinned as the actors started to file into the area.  Shepherds, the Wise Men, Mary and Joseph, even a real baby to stand in for Jesus; everyone looked fantastic.

“Henry?”

The sound of my name in my boyfriend’s tenor voice never failed to instantly grab my attention.  I looked at him where he was standing at the side of the manger, and then dropped my gaze to what he had in his hand.  I quirked an eyebrow in question, and he gave me a beautiful smile.

“Care to do the honors?”

I nodded, touched that he was giving me this gift.  I glanced at the donkey one more time to make sure he was where he was supposed to be before I crossed the grass to where Colin stood.  I kissed his cheek, loving the soft sigh he gave at the affection, and then took the switch from his hand.  A few more seconds, and darkness fell in earnest.  With a grin, I pressed the switch, watching in awe as the huge star I’d rigged above the manger lit up. For just a second, it actually took my breath away.  It was some of my best work.  An electrician by trade, and a glassblower by hobby, I’d made the eight pointed star a couple of weeks ago.  After painstakingly sculpting the blue and white glass until it was perfectly proportioned, I then wired it so it would sparkle with the perfect amount of light.

There was a collective gasp from the gathered onlookers, and then a round of applause. I bowed and grinned cheekily, incredibly proud of myself.  As the actors took their places, Colin took my hand and led me twenty feet away to the side of the church where a table had been set up with hot beverages and donut holes.  I grinned as he fixed us both cups of hot cocoa, and then reached into the bag of mini-marshmallows and added two handfuls to my mug.  I took the cup with a grateful smile, and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you,” he said softly after a couple of minutes.  The entire area was quiet, except for the occasional animal noises.  Everyone was reverent in honor of the manager scene.  I appreciated the respect, and the silence in the crisp, cold night was rejuvenating.

“I know this isn’t your thing,” Colin continued, leaning heavily against my side.  I lifted an arm and pulled him in close, sharing my body heat.  “I appreciate all your help.  I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You could have,” I disagreed.  “But any time you need me, all you have to do is ask and I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

His grin was breathtaking, and just a little bit teary.  “I know.”

I returned the smile, took a drink from my mug, and then leaned down to place a quick, chaste kiss on his lips.  “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Colin’s grin, if possible, grew wider.  “Merry Christmas.”