Chapter 1

1

Max

H e sat in the back of the lobby looking like the sweetest, most forlorn lost boy ever. Unkempt golden waves of hair, parted in the middle, framed a face far too intense for a holiday party. But what a beauty with full, light pink lips and studious green eyes. His cheeks were smooth, like a baby’s, but he was no baby.

Nope. He was the cute boy who worked in accounts. Too bad. I worked in the finance department and that was on the other side of the office.

I’d noticed him once or twice before. He was a quiet one. He didn’t take up space either physically or with his attitude. I never saw him in the break room. I didn’t even know if he was gay. But I was definitely drawn to him.

It was our annual Thanksgiving party, but Christmas carols played on the speakers and all the decorations were holly and garlands and twinkling lights. A huge Christmas tree stood against the center of the main wall.

The lost boy greeted people passing by him with nods, but didn’t really speak to them. He just sat in a nice gray suit that bunched up at his knees and watched.

The wet bar had a line, but I didn’t mind waiting. I watched him out the corner of my eye to see what more I could read off his body language. Slowly, he crossed his hands in his lap. His fingers weaved together like he was hanging onto whatever he could grasp.

If I’d been with my usual crowd, I’d have pegged him as a little right away. But maybe it was wishful thinking.

I could dream.

My last boy had been cheating on me without a care. It had hurt me because I didn’t see it coming. He’d professed love to me many times. Made me feel completely out of touch. I hadn’t dated since. That was over ten months ago.

But Thanksgiving was tomorrow. Christmas was coming. It brought out my generous side. And a longing for someone to share the holidays with.

Time to take a gamble.

When it was my turn to order, I got myself a whisky sour and added onto my bill a Shirley Temple, dirty, with a cherry on top. If he scowled at my choice of drink offering, so be it. It was a child’s drink, but I’d added adult pizzaz. If he hated it, at least he wouldn’t be completely insulted.

I walked to the far end carrying both drinks, taking care not to spill them. I came right up to the cutie’s knees and held out the Dirty Shirley.

“Here you go. You looked thirsty.”

His eyes widened. “Thank you.”

I dragged a chair next to his. “I’m Max.”

“Kiren.” His voice came out soft, quite pretty.

Kiren stared at his drink as if trying to decide if it was real. Then he reached into it, pulled out the cherry and sucked it into his mouth.

“Good?” I took a sip of my own drink.

He nodded. “I do love cherries.” He blinked fast a couple of times.

“Me, too.”

He licked his lips and said, “This is spiked.”

“Yep. A Dirty Shirley.”

His lips curved up. “Thank you. I was planning on leaving but maybe I’ll stay and drink this.”

“Good. Then maybe I can enjoy better company than Tomlin over there bragging about getting a new BMW, and Evelyn talking about her casino jackpots.”

“I don’t know them,” Kiren said.

“They work in the finance department with me. I’m the supervisor who wrangles them.” I winked. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s a great job. And I don’t mind babysitting once in a while, but that’s a story for another day.”

Kiren glanced at me with a questioning look that quickly vanished. Like maybe he wanted to hear that story. But I kept that a secret from the workplace. My wrangling of co-workers as a supervisor and my wrangling of littles as their daddy did not mix. They remained separate worlds.

“You’re in accounts, right?” I already knew the answer, but something inside me wanted to hold onto his attention.

He nodded.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving tomorrow?”

“Dinner with family and relatives,” he replied.

“Me, too. It’s good food and fun.”

He nodded.

“My family’s okay,” I added. “We don’t squabble too much.”

He pressed his lips tight and nodded. “Me, too. I like turkey so it’s okay.”

All right, then. I’d barely learned anything about him, but I liked him. He didn’t ignore me, but he didn’t go out of his way to impress me.

I could work with that.

I wanted to work with that.

The more I looked at him and felt his vibe, the more attracted I became. I’d made mistakes in the past by moving too fast. Be friendly. Go slow, I told myself.

“I’ve worked here four years,” I offered.

“A year,” he replied.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around.”

He looked at me like he was astounded. Well, who wouldn’t look at that sweet face more than once?

I smiled. “I notice people.”

“Me? Is it because of my parents?”

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know your parents, do I?”

He shrugged.

“I didn’t even know your name,” I continued. “But now that I do, I won’t forget it.”

“So you truly just came over with a drink for me to talk to me?”

I nodded. “Why not?” Now was the time to drop the bomb and see if it hit or missed. “It’s been ten months since I kicked out my boyfriend. Can’t blame me, can you?”

Kiren’s mouth twitched. Otherwise, he made no outward response of shock. “No. I guess I can’t.”

I tilted my head, my read on him fading. He wasn’t surprised by my admission, nor offended, but he kept his walls up. It wasn’t because I’d said the word boyfriend. It was something else.

My heart sped up. One of my favorite things about being a daddy was figuring out how to connect with my boys, peel away the layers as painlessly as possible, learn their secrets and feed their wishes. I was the type of daddy who fixed, who comforted. Who spoiled.

What might Kiren think of that?

Right now, I sat beside him and talked about mundane things. Do you like sports? No. Where were you raised? This city. What kind of car do you drive? Honda CR-V. What movies have you recently seen? I stream a lot and don’t remember them all.

He did not elaborate on any of his answers. I might’ve given up and walked away then and there, but something kept my seat planted. Maybe it was the way he sipped his drink, eyes sparkling as if the flavor surprised him. Or maybe it was how he twirled the silver band on his middle finger. He needed something. Someone. I wanted to find out what, and who that might be.

I worked in the same office as Kiren. I would see him every day. It would be easy to take this one slow step at a time.

I didn’t push him any further than buying him a second drink that night, which he looked grateful for.

When the party started to wrap up, and people started hugging and saying their goodbyes and happy holidays to each other, Kiren and I stood.

“It was great talking to you,” I said.

“Yes. Thank you. I enjoyed the evening.”

People came up to both of us, saying goodbye, but Kiren remained stiff.

I longed to loosen that up a little. If misery was his current company, could I offer a happier alternative?