Chapter 16

Thursday, November 28

Thanksgiving

Mike was having palpitations.

“Do we have enough food? Have they started arriving yet? Is the room warm enough?”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Will you stop it? There’s enough food to feed an army. Yes, the first guests have arrived, and yes, there’s only a handful of them, but we’ve still got forty minutes until we’re due to start. Anthony’s fruit punch is going down well. And yes, the room is warm enough.”

Elliott hurried into the lobby. “Two things you need to know before we go get into our costumes. One, we’ve gotten messages from people who say they’ll be turning up last minute. But—”

Mike’s heart went into overdrive. “We can’t feed them!”

He held up his hand. “Relax, okay? I was about to say, but all of them have also said they’re bringing something.” He grinned. “By the look of it, half of Provincetown is about to arrive on our doorstep. And that gave me an idea.” He crooked his finger. “Come with me.”

Elliott led them into the bar, where Mike saw a large box with a slit in the top. Standing next to it was a tall piece of cardboard, on which was printed Nick’s Place needs your change. Take the weight out of your pocket and leave it here . There was a thermometer drawn on the board, with a scale rising along its length.

Elliott pointed to it. “I’ve marked it off in increments of fifty dollars. When we hit a level, we color it in.” He grinned. “Hey, no one likes to carry too much change. We’re just helping them out.”

Jim laughed. “I love it. I’ll put it next to the door where folks come in.” He picked up the box and the board, then headed toward the theater, from where came laughter and chatter.

Sam slipped his hand into Mike’s. “It’s going to be fine.”

For the first time that morning, Mike allowed himself to relax a little.

We can do this.

Elliott’s gleeful chuckle made him jump. “Well, it’s about time.”

Mike turned his head to look at him. Elliott appeared smug as fuck. “You got something to say?”

Elliott grinned and pointed to their joined hands.

Ashley let out a squeal. “And you didn’t tell me? Some bestie you are.”

Elliott laughed. “We’ve been laying bets on how long it would be before you two got your act together. I said Thanksgiving, so I win.”

Sam shook his head. “Sorry, honey, but this has been a thing for a week now.”

His eyes narrowed. “Dammit. That means Ant wins again. I swear that girl has a crystal ball or something.” Then his eyes gleamed. “Jim was way off. He said you reacting the way you did after we all—”

“Tried your luck?” Mike suggested.

Elliott pinked. “Yeah, that. Well, Jim thought it was a case of the lady protesting too much. He figured Sam had gotten lucky after all, and that you two were doing the horizontal mambo that first night.”

Sam roared with laughter. “I wish.”

Mike blinked. “Really?”

Sam’s sexy grin turned his insides to mush. “Honey, have you any idea how utterly gorgeous you are? Walking away from your room that night was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” He chuckled and leaned in to whisper, “And it was probably the hardest I’d ever been too, right up to the moment we started getting hot ‘n’ heavy on my bed.”

“Hey guys?” Elliott gave them a mock glare. “I can’t hear whatever it is you’re whispering about, but I can make a guess. I have delicate ears, y’know.”

Sam covered his mouth to muffle his laughter.

“And I don’t want to hear it,” Ashley protested.

Mike gave her a pointed stare. “Do I complain when you drool over a certain police officer? Hmm?”

She gasped. “I do not drool.”

Sam snorted. “Honey, we’d need to buy shares in Kleenex just to keep the place stocked up so we can clean up after you.”

“Can we stop discussing boyfriends?” Elliott demanded. “Especially when I’m getting nowhere with a certain artist.”

Mike’s heart went out to him. “Just keep being you. He’ll soon see what a wonderful man you are.”

Jim poked his head through the door. “In case any of you missed it, there’s a brunch going on today. So will you all move your asses and jump to it?”

Mike gave a salute. “Sir, yes sir.”

They had a roomful of people to feed.

Mike had no idea how many people had turned up. The space had been stretched to capacity, and a lot of diners had sat on the edge of the stage when they ran out of chairs. The tables had been covered with food: in addition to all the dishes supplied by the caterers, guests had brought bowls of potato salad, garlic bread, rolls, cheese, slices of turkey and ham, deviled eggs, and boxes filled with cake. Talk and laughter filled the room, and the sight of so many people sitting together, enjoying good company, made Mike’s heart soar.

Nick would have loved this.

Phil had offered to play the piano while everyone ate, and Anthony kept him supplied with food. Sorry—Miss Dixx, I should say . Apart from Jim and Mike, the others were in drag, mingling with the guests, making sure everyone had enough to eat, and replenishing glasses with water, fruit punch or soda. It tickled Mike to watch Miss Dixx feeding Phil by hand, and judging by his enraptured expression, Phil was more than happy with that arrangement.

I see. Like that, is it?

Cherry Popp was in fine form, sashaying between the tables, making jokes and offering suggestive comments—out of earshot of any kids—that had everyone laughing and quite a few guests blushing. Mike had to laugh when she sat in the lap of one of Patrick Murphy’s off-duty buddies who’d joined him for the brunch.

Ashley’s expression was all too obvious: Sit in Patrick’s lap, and you’re one dead queen. Then Mike caught sight of Stephan Yeager’s face as he stared at Cherry, and in that one moment he glimpsed the truth.

Elliott might not have all that long to wait until Stephan makes a move.

Elliott’s money box had been greeted with smiles, followed by the chink of coins, although sometimes the sound was muffled by the bills that had been added too. And as Mike walked along the lengths of tables, thanking people for joining them, it became obvious how many of the attendees were there because of their shared love and admiration for Nick.

Once everyone started on the desserts, Miss Dixx, Candy, and Cherry lip-synced to songs that had the whole room joining in, with the girls encouraging them, while Mike and Jim circulated, filling glasses and checking the guests were happy. Jim seemed to be taking special care of Kris Warren, and Mike couldn’t help but notice Jim’s manner as he served Kris. It was obvious who wore the trousers in their clearly blossoming relationship.

Mike smiled to himself. Or should that be, who cracks the whip? He didn’t know much about the leather community, but he knew enough to recognize a dominant personality when he saw one. What did Jim call him? A leather daddy?

It was the perfect description.

Candy joined Mike while Miss Dixx and Cherry lip-synced to “We Are Family”. Mike glanced at her and smiled. “I like it when you’re in costume. We’re the same height.” He also liked how the girls took on different personalities.

Candy chuckled. “Honey, I’ll wear heels around you any time you want.” She gazed at the sea of happy faces. “And tomorrow, when all this is cleared away, we can get on with the best part.” Her eyes sparkled. “Decorating for Christmas. Then, it will be all hands on deck. You have no idea how many boxes of lights we have in the basement.” She nudged Mike’s arm. “And something else we need to think about—your part in the show. We won’t have long before then, and there’s so much to do. We need to decide on what song you’ll use, practice putting on your makeup, work out your routine—”

Mike covered Candy’s mouth with his hand. “Can you at least wait until this is all over before you give me more things to worry about?” He withdrew his hand, smiling at the lipstick smeared on his palm. “Nice shade, by the way.”

Candy gave a satisfied smile. “Just keeping it real.” Then she leaned in and whispered, “You also get to spend as many nights as you want in my bed.”

Warmth rushed through him. “Sounds good to me.” He grinned. “But who will be in bed with me? Candy—or Sam?”

“That’s up to you, sugar. I’m easy.”

Mike laughed. “Yeah, I’d heard that about you.” What sent heat rocketing through him was the thought of Sam in lingerie and sheer stockings, legs spread for him, his dick caged behind lace.

I wonder if he’d do that for me?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out and peered at the screen. His heart sank.

“What’s wrong?”

Mike showed her the email he’d just received. “That survey I had done on the hotel? The results are in.”

Before he could open it, Candy took the phone from him and dropped it down the front of her dress. He opened his mouth to protest, but she wagged a finger.

“Nope. Not gonna let you spoil Thanksgiving. This can wait until later, when all our guests have gone. We’ll deal with it then.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

Mike gave her a mock glare. “I’ve got lipstick on my face now, don’t I?”

She grinned. “You sure do, and it’s gonna stay right there. So everyone knows you belong to me.” Her eyes gleamed. “You got a problem with that?”

Her possessive tone only served to send more warmth flowing through him.

“None whatsoever.”