4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Nick

M andatory community service.

Since we left the sheriff's office, I hadn’t thought about the full ramifications of our streaking jaunt, but as I approached the town hall, the reality slammed back in. As much as the awareness of being here because of my criminal actions weighed on me, the lighthearted teasing around town the past few days had made it clear no one gave a fuck that Jordan and I had gotten in trouble. Most expected a little chaos from Jordan anyway.

I walked to the door, and to my surprise, relief trickled through me. Ever since Amanda moved out, I’d been scraping for purpose, looking for reasons to get out of the house. I hated living alone—more than any damn thing. The quiet was killing me, and the symphony of nature’s sounds at night spiked my anxiety. Adding in the fact that I worked remote—graphic design firms weren’t a dime a dozen in Collier’s Creek—and I was anxious for any reason to escape and exist around people.

The town hall wasn’t massive, just like most of the buildings in Collier’s Creek. Long folding tables, with chairs scattered around them, took up most of the polished wooden floors. The space was often left clear for meetings, whether used for when the mayor was addressing issues or for whatever reason the town needed to congregate. And in Collier’s Creek, there were about a thousand reasons. Arboretum Day discussion? Check. National Chocolate Chip Day? Clearly, a bake-off needed to be arranged.

However, today was the meeting for Collier’s Creek Christmas Bash, which was everyone’s excuse to make merry and let loose with too much eggnog. I recognized a few townies gathered around the table, including Mrs. Hendricks, who was engaged to Jordan’s grandfather, but my gaze landed square on the one person I’d wanted to see the most.

It had been a few days since Jordan and I had hooked up at Fox’s, and for the life of me, I didn’t know how to handle the shift in our friendship. I’d made a big deal about him not getting weird after, and now I was the one having a crisis. We’d eaten our orders at Fox’s, shot the shit, and gone our separate ways, everything normal, normal, normal.

Except now I’d seen what Jordan looked like while he came. I’d had that delicious cock in my mouth, and holy hell, he was the sexiest thing to ever hit this town. Hands down. I’d been repressing my attraction because after we’d popped open the top, I couldn’t cram it back inside.

Jordan sat at one of the tables, sprawled in a seat, his legs spread wide. The thought of crawling right between them sent a jolt of lust through me that didn’t belong in a holiday bash committee meeting. Except then he glanced up, and our gazes met.

His wicked grin made his blue eyes sparkle, and adrenaline coursed through my veins. Fuck coffee; a hit of Jordan Ellis was all I needed. However, getting fumbly dick-smitten over a guy I’d known since grade school wasn’t a smart move. Hell, blowing him hadn’t been a smart move, but the night had been one bad decision after another.

“Ah, it’s Jordan’s partner in crime,” a familiar voice said. Gramps Ellis approached, which I should’ve guessed, given his fiancée’s involvement. Anyone who knew him for a spell called him Gramps, whether they were one of the Ellises’ brood or not. Being referred to as Jordan’s anything sent a silent shiver down my spine. My god, I needed to rein myself in.

I wouldn’t undo years’ worth of healthy expectations over an unrequited crush for my straight best friend with a single blow job.

Even if it had been hot as hell and now played on a loop in my head.

“Don’t bother Rogue.” Jordan stood mere feet away from me when he’d been over by the table a second ago. “I sucked him into my mastermind web of crime.”

My brain focused on the word sucked a little too hard. He stepped right up in my space and slung an arm around my shoulder. Would it be too pathetic to whimper? He smelled so fucking good, like motor oil and bay rum, and I soaked in the warmth from his arm.

“Psh, who hasn’t done a little streaking in their day?” Gramps said, a twinkle in his eye that reminded me far too much of Jordan. It was clear where he’d gotten his mischief streak, and I appreciated it far too much.

“Thanks for the overshare,” Jordan said, not budging from my side.

“Only returning the favor.” Gramps winked. “Ready to go assemble some wreathes?”

My brows drew together. “Are these for the holiday bash?”

Gramps shook his head. “Part of the whole committee is getting the town in the Christmas spirit, so we make as many wreaths as possible to offer around town for whoever would like to decorate their houses. ”

“What if I cover mine in car parts?” Jordan asked, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

“Then you’ll have a lovely new wreath to display at your place,” Gramps said. “Go get to work, boys.”

“Let’s go,” Jordan said, his arm still around my shoulders as he guided me to the table he’d sat at. I basked in the weight of his arm, even if he probably did it out of convenience more than anything more meaningful.

He sat at a table with his sister Sadie, his brother Henry, and another local, Felix, who was far too sweet to be drawn into the Ellises’ family reunion. Me, there was no hope for, as I’d hitched my wagon to Jordan years ago, and there was no turning back. Especially not after I knew what his cock felt like in my mouth. Hal and Chad were his roommates, so he might see them more, but we’d been close just as long, although I also often hung out with Andy.

Jordan drew me to the seat next to him, and I went willingly.

I plunked into the chair, then asked Felix, “Where’s Kit?”

“Working on his book today, so I slipped out to socialize.” Felix grinned, a soft look in his eyes at the mention of his boyfriend. Was I jealous? Hell yes. Everyone had been coupling up around town, yet I remained lonelier than ever. Ever since Amanda left, I’d stopped cooking big dinners, which was something I loved to do. But when I made casseroles or stovetop meals for myself, the leftovers stacked up too much, and I soon resorted to quick and easy—freezer meals for the win.

“You mean some of you poor saps are here on purpose?” Jordan teased.

“You’re the one who coerced me here in the first place,” Sadie said. “After enough whining, I caved. ”

“And your reason for joining?” I asked Henry. Out of the Ellis siblings, Cooper, Henry, and Daisy were on the straight and narrow, while Jordan and Sadie had a well-earned reputation for shit-stirring.

“I promised Mom and Dad I’d make sure Jordan showed up for his community service.” Henry shook his head and wrapped some garland around the wreath he worked on.

I bristled at that. Jordan might get into trouble from time to time, but he was also steadier than anyone gave him credit for.

Jordan’s shoulders tightened. “Well, I’m here. Shock of the century, I know.”

Sadie shrugged. “I would’ve bailed. Wreath-making is for the birds.” She paused a second, and her eyes lit up. I repressed a groan. Sadie with an idea was a terrible thing, and Jordan egged on her chaos every damn time. “Oh my god, I’m going to cover my wreath in birdseed. It’d be the perfect gift for bird lovers.”

“Bet they’d all go bird shit for it,” Jordan drawled. I knocked my knee against his, and when he passed me one of those heartbreaker grins, I melted. Did I want his arm still wrapped around my shoulders? A little, yeah. But even more than that, I wanted to know what was going on in his head. If he’d gotten as hot over our rendezvous in Fox’s as me, or if it was just another night for him.

“I don’t think it’ll work out the way you’re hoping,” Felix said, but his comment fell on deaf ears. Sadie shot up from the seat, clutching her wreath, and raced to the craft table, where all sorts of wreath additions were assembled. Guaranteed, no birdseed, but she’d try regardless.

“Can’t we just do the setup part of helping for the bash?” Jordan stared at the undecorated wreath in front of him. An assortment of ribbons, fake pinecones, and some gauzy fabric that looked like toilet paper was splayed out over the table. Also dinosaur stickers. Clearly, the folks organizing had run out of shit and raided whatever craft supplies they had at home.

The graphic designer in me was weeping.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d rather do this than schlepping tables all day long.” I grabbed the wreath beside him and a piece of cranberry ribbon and set to work. “I’m not made for hard labor.”

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty enough to get out of it.” Jordan squeezed some glue onto the wreath. An extra large glob of white flew out of the tube and splatted onto the table. My whole body heated up—not just from what he’d said but also the added visual.

Where had these compliments been throughout our entire friendship? Jordan was so hot any red-blooded gay man would trip over themselves to fall onto his dick, but I’d been able to keep myself in check because clearly, he was straight.

Except not.

“Does that mean if I bat my lashes at you, you’ll do the hard labor for me?” I teased, needing to keep things light, even though my heart had taken off at a hummingbird’s pace.

“Only if you do the crafting bullshit for me.” His gaze lingered on my lips. I licked them on reflex, and his eyes flared the slightest bit, though I could be imagining it.

“Deal.” I reached over and pulled off the bit of questionably toilet paper he tried to wad onto his wreath. “Try some ribbon to start.”

“Look, I found birdseed.” Sadie plopped down beside us. From fuck all knew where, she’d procured a glass container full of birdseed and used enough glue to take out a pack of horses.

“Oh, that’s going to be all the rage around town,” Jordan said, his eyes dancing. “You should make them for a ton of people.”

Henry let out a long, belabored sigh and pushed up from his seat. “I’m going to go say hi to Mrs. Hendricks. I can’t watch this.” Unlike Cooper, who tried to talk Jordan and Sadie out of their shenanigans, Henry and Daisy bolted fast.

Amusement bubbled up as Jordan started more chaos. I’d just gotten in trouble because of one of his ideas, but I was a grown-ass man, and it had been my choice. And life with Jordan in it was infinitely more fun.

I set to work on my wreath. I didn’t mind crafting, and the process was therapeutic. As much as I loved my graphic design job, there was something to be said about working with a tactile medium rather than the digital. Made my inner art school kid happy.

“More birdseed,” Jordan said. “It looks a little sparse in that section.”

“Focus on your own, J.” Sadie gave his mostly barren wreath an up-nod.

“Do you think if I added a bunch of mini coffee cups to this one, we could display it at CC’s?” Felix held up his wreath, which he’d done with a chocolate bow.

“I think it’d be a hit.” I finished the maroon tulle on mine. “Shit, I need some extra pinecones.”

“I’ll get them,” Jordan offered, almost bolting from the seat. I chewed on my lower lip, biting back my laugh.

“He hates crafts,” Sadie said, casting a glance over to the retreating form of her brother. “Growing up, every time Mom tried to set us up with a crafting project, Jordan would find some way to derail it. After the second time he set his popsicle stick pom-poms creation on fire, Mom let him go fuck off out in nature instead.”

I snorted. Yeah, Jordan used to skip out on art classes or find any excuse to cut. “Dare I ask how he got the fire in the first place?”

She grinned. “ Gas stoves.”

I shook my head, grabbed Jordan’s wreath, and used some of the velvet red ribbon to decorate that one as well. He wouldn’t miss the chance to work on it. “You all are lucky you’re still alive.”

I lost myself in the flow of decorating. Our table grew quiet as Sadie distributed birdseed on yet another nightmare wreath while Felix ran over to the tables to get another stack to work on. Many townsfolk had shown up to help create and decorate. I missed my family being here. They might only live a town over, but it was enough distance that they’d started doing their town’s traditions. As much as I found some of the frequent Collier’s Creek activities corny, the sense of togetherness right now was welcome.

Jordan swung over to the table, his arms full of random bits and bobs—twigs with red berries, small fake birds, pinecones, and more of the weird bullshit that might be snow but looked like wadded-up toilet paper.

“Okay, I’ve got some supplies.” He plunked beside me. “I guess it’s time to attack these horrifying wreaths.”

“I better make sure there’s no access to fire around here,” I murmured, amusement welling in my chest.

His eyes twinkled. “Sadie told you?”

“I’m shocked Gramps hadn’t gotten here over to regale first,” she said, barely looking up from her project. Gramps was sitting by Mrs. Hendricks a few tables behind ours, and those two worked on a book-themed wreath, probably for Ellis Books.

“Maybe I can still get him over here,” Jordan said, craning his neck to try to spot his grandfather.

“Trying to get out of crafting hell?” I asked.

Jordan’s eyes met mine, and it was unfair how hot the cavalier shrug was. Honestly, it was unfair how hot Jordan was in general, but I’d only started allowing those intrusive thoughts after he’d decided to indulge in his bi-curiosity. Today, he was wearing a blue-and-white flannel that showed off his broad shoulders, and his stubbled jawline was sharp and enthralling.

“Here.” I gave him my mostly finished one. “Go hand it in and bring me a few more wreaths. I can blow through these faster if you do supply runs for me.”

“Fuck, I could kiss you,” he said, and his gaze landed on my mouth.

Lord have mercy. I wouldn’t survive the night. But I couldn’t bolt either because this was mandatory community service. A whole lot of mandatory community service I had to do alongside Jordan.

This holiday season would be hell.

However, the rest of the wreath-making committee meeting went by lightning fast. I sank into making the wreaths with velvet ribbons, golden berries, and an assortment of fake birds. Jordan jumped at every opportunity to grab me more supplies and run over to the table. I didn’t mind taking point on this one, since he loathed crafting. And I hadn’t been lying either. If he wanted to do more of the grunt work while I crafted, that was fine by me.

Besides, he looked hot as fuck walking away in his Levis, a few grease stains along the thighs from the auto shop. Jordan had the sort of ass that demanded attention, and if I spent a little too long looking at it, I chalked that up to a job hazard.

“Thank you all for coming out to make these,” Mrs. Hendricks announced. Jordan, Henry, and a few others started to drag away the folding chairs and tables. I pitched in with packing the wreaths until we were done. Everyone rose from their seats, prepared to move toward their next destination.

For most folks, it’d be home, but my empty one hadn’t felt as welcoming as of late .

I glanced at my phone. Only seven o’clock. I could loiter around, but that would be asking for trouble. Better to go to the bar and at least be around people for a little longer.

When I stepped outside, the icy air painted my cheeks, and I shoved my hands into the pockets of my woolen jacket, trying to squeeze every ounce of warmth from it.

“What are you doing with the rest of the night?” Jordan’s voice from behind stopped me still.

I turned around. Folks exited the town hall, so I tilted my head toward the side of the building, and he followed. I knew better than to have personal conversations around these nosy fuckers.

“Wasn’t sure,” I said.

“Invite me over. I’m still mad at Hal and Chad because both of them don’t think it was dick to ditch us.”

I shook my head, unable to help the grin quirking my lips. Goddamnit. Jordan was making it impossible to avoid him, and even worse, I didn’t want to.

“Oh, I see. Am I supposed to invite you over ‘for a drink?’” I waggled my brows.

He licked his lips, and his gaze settled back on my mouth again. Then he flashed me a wicked grin that made me weak in the knees.

“Sounds perfect.” Jordan spun around and walked toward his car.

He was trouble.

Pure, unadulterated trouble.