Chapter Six

Christmas morning, Owen woke with Jeremy in his arms, wrapped in warmth and the scent of sweat and sex. It was a strange feeling, being together. He’d never spent an entire night with a man. Although it was Christmas morning and the world was encased in ice, something in his chest cracked. The icy tundra that had trapped him for so long gave way the tiniest bit, allowing soft green shoots of…something unfamiliar to break free.

He tilted his head so he could kiss Jeremy’s neck, the skin soft and salty under his lips.

“Morning,” Jeremy murmured, shifting his hips so Owen’s cock nestled against his ass. The contact made Owen gasp and Jeremy laughed. “Feels like you’re ready for another round.”

Tightening his grip around Jeremy’s shoulders, Owen let his prick reply.

In very short order, they had both found their release. They lay side by side, sweaty, sticky. Owen’s body felt as if he could melt into the mattress, while his soul felt, well, that was another matter.

Jeremy propped himself on his elbow. “It’s pretty bright out there. Not sure whether the clouds have altogether cleared, but I doubt it’s still snowing.”

Owen answered with a sigh. Jeremy’s sidelong glance made him close his eyes.

Jeremy followed up with a poke to the ribs. “We don’t have to go anywhere.”

Grasping at anything besides the issue between them, Owen said, “But you’re working for Sullivan. Won’t he and his wife expect you?”

With a shrug, Jeremy settled back on the bed. He curled on his side, one arm draped across Owen’s belly. “I sent him my apologies before I rode out to get you yesterday.”

Owen cracked an eyelid to peek at Jeremy. “You were that sure of me?”

That earned him another poke to the ribs, which made them both laugh. Chalk up another first. I’ve never laughed in bed with a man, either .

“Look, we can always use the weather as an excuse. If you find it’s too much, we won’t stay for dinner.”

“Just long enough to wish them a merry Christmas.” The words took on the resonance of a vow. “All right. Mamé would be disappointed in me.” Again. As would Mother and Father. Owen left those words unsaid. Instead, he rolled on his side to match Jeremy and pulled him in for another kiss. “Thank you.” The words were breathless. “You’ve done so much.”

Laughing, Jeremy rolled him onto his back and climbed on top. “I think, Owen, that you give me too much credit. Let’s get cleaned up and go spread some Christmas cheer.”

That last was said with his forehead resting on Owen’s, their lips nearly touching. It was some time before they rose from the bed.

Enough time for Owen to show Jeremy as much gratitude with his hands and his lips as possible.

Washing and dressing together took on a convivial air. Jeremy shared stories of his life in Boston, parties he’d attended, escapades from his college years. Owen had nothing to match those stories with; pony races on McDermott’s field didn’t hold a candle to Jeremy’s time in the city.

And as if by some unspoken agreement, neither of them brought up the war. Owen supposed those stories would come, when they knew each other better and more time had passed. He’d been about to scold himself for presuming he and Jeremy had the luxury of such time, but Jeremy poked him a third time.

“Whatever you were thinking, stop it. We’re on an adventure, and I won’t stand for long faces.”

Owen smiled, a creaky, unfamiliar expression. “An adventure. I wouldn’t dream of spoiling it.”

They left his rooms, and after wishing his housemother a merry Christmas, Jeremy left Owen to collect a bundle of the warm buns she’d made while he went to the stable to prepare the sleigh.

Time passed in a blur, and soon they were wrapped in warm blankets, Jeremy’s hands on the reins, his chestnut gelding cutting through the powdery snow with long strides. A string of sturdy bells hung around the horse’s neck, adding a festive clatter to the proceedings. The stable master had placed hot bricks on the floorboards, so their feet were warm, and the air was crisp and dry. The sky wore a coat of high silvery clouds. Not threatening, but it wouldn’t take much for them to thicken up.

“Probably take us the better part of an hour to get there,” Jeremy said. His hands were sure, his tone confident, and Owen relaxed a little bit more.

Possibilities floated through his mind, everything from his mother’s warm embrace to the whole family rejecting them on sight. They couldn’t know the nature of their friendship just by looking at them, though Owen had to admit his family might be confused by the suddenness of it.

Inhaling against a sudden flutter of nerves, Owen tried to attend only to the thud of the horse’s hooves and the shush of the sleigh’s runners through the snow. He’d never even mentioned Jeremy and their weekend excursions. But then, he’d barely spoken to his family at all. Surely, they wouldn’t think it strange that he’d brought a friend home. A friend . As if Jeremy meant the same to him as the boys he’d hung around in school.

The horse’s pace slowed. “Getting tired?” Owen asked.

“That’s okay. I’ve got supplies to take care of him when we stop. He’ll get a Christmas treat too.”

Owen flexed his fingers inside his gloves. He both wanted the ride to last longer, and to speed up so they could get it over with.

Get what over with? He had no earthly idea.

The trees opened out, signaling they were close to his parents’ house. Owen was glad. His face felt raw, his lips were chapped, and if he was going to have to deal with awkwardness, he wanted to get on with it.

The noise of the sleigh brought his father onto the small front porch. Compared to Jeremy’s townhouse, this home of wood and stone didn’t look like much. Still, Father’s smile took the edge off Owen’s nerves.

Jeremy brought the horse to a halt and for a moment, no one said anything. Then Mother burst out the front door, wiping her hands on her skirt, Mamé right behind her.

“Owen!” Mother’s voice broke on the word. “I didn’t know if we should expect you or not.”

She stopped at the top of the porch steps, three shallow risers that disappeared into the snow. Owen unwrapped himself and stood. Before jumping down from the sleigh, he glanced at Jeremy. His lover’s smile was bright, and Owen smiled back. “Thank you,” he mouthed, and then he turned to his family. “Father, Mother, Mamé, this is Jeremy Abbot. We…well, we met in Paris, of all places, and now he’s here, working for the Sullivans’ law firm.”

“Merry Christmas to you all,” Jeremy said. If he was at all nervous, he didn’t let it show, and that reassured Owen in its own way.

They both jumped down from the sleigh, Jeremy pausing to reach for something behind his seat. He brought out a wreath made of holly and a bottle of wine. “I don’t know if you all partake”—he offered the bottle to Father—“but I brought something for your Christmas cheer.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind.” Father took the bottle, then offered Jeremy his hand. “Thomas Spense.”

Owen jumped in. “Sorry. Where are my manners? Jeremy, this is my father and my mother, Juliette Spense, and my grandmother, Therese Munroe.”

Mamé stepped up to the edge of the porch. “You may call me Mamé. All of Owen’s friends do.”

She caught Owen’s eye and smiled. His cheeks heating, he looked toward his mother. “I hope it won’t be too much trouble to set another place at the table.”

Mother assured him it would not. She and Father went inside, though Mamé lagged behind. “Your friends are always welcome here, you know.”

He stomped some of the snow off his boot. “Thank you.”

Her gaze was steady, pinning him in place. Feeling awkward, he waved at the horse. “I’ll just help Jeremy take care of his beast and then we’ll be in.”

“Of course.” Mamé followed his parents inside, though he could tell she had more she wanted to say to him.

“You can go on in,” Jeremy said. He was already at work on the horse’s harness.

“It’s no problem. There won’t be room enough in the barn for the sleigh, but there’s an empty stall.”

“Lead on.” Jeremy’s smile was back, and it warmed something deep inside Owen. Together they tacked up the horse and led him into the empty stall next to Father’s dapple grey. The barn was warm, and while Jeremy rubbed down the animal to dry its sweat, Owen went back to the sleigh and retrieved the canister of oats, the horse’s Christmas treat.

Chores complete, they left the horses munching from their feedbags, Jeremy having shared some of the treat with Father’s grey. Owen led the way into the house, though a sudden unsettled feeling had him extending the simple ritual of removing his greatcoat, gloves, and hat.

Given the occasion, his parents were in the small front parlor, sitting side by side on the loveseat. That left the pair of upholstered chairs open. Owen guided Jeremy to one of them and pointed at the empty upholstered chair. “Mamé can take the other. I’ll bring in one of the dining chairs for myself.”

“She’s getting us some cider,” Mother said. “Why don’t you help her?”

Giving Jeremy a quick smile, Owen left him with Mother and Father. “How long have you known Sullivan?” Father asked. Jeremy’s response was quick and sure, and Owen relaxed a bit more.

He found his grandmother assembling glasses of cider on a tray. She’d brought out Mother’s fine tumblers, clear with gold rims and dogwood flowers painted on the sides. “I can carry that tray for you, Mamé.”

“Thank you.”

Stepping to her side, he reached for the tray.

“I expect you won’t need to stay out in the cabin much longer,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“No, I don’t expect I will.” He lifted the tray.

“You might even want to find a place in town.”

That made him laugh. “One thing at a time, Mamé. Let’s have dinner first.”

Chuckling, she patted his arm. “I like him, Owen Spense.”

He met her gaze, his heart growing lighter. “I like him too.”

With Mamé at his side, Owen headed toward the front parlor where Jeremy and his parents were busy comparing mutual acquaintances. Owen couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. “Merry Christmas to you all,” he said, blinking back the odd burst of moisture from his eyes. “It’s good to be home.”