Chapter 1

Chapter One

30th November

Echo

“ I t’s an easy gig,” she says.

“All you have to do is dress up as Santa Claus for an afternoon to entertain the old folks,” she says.

She is Gloria Lester, the dispatcher from the sheriff’s office, and the old folks live at Collier’s Creek assisted living facility.

But they need a Santa, and the usual victim, I mean, willing participant, is out of town. I have a feeling Randy deliberately chose this weekend to hightail it to his sister’s. I can’t think of any other reason he’d willingly go there.

Why the old folks need to see Santa in November, before the tree-lighting ceremony takes place, I’ve no idea, but Gloria insists that’s the way Collier’s Creek always does it.

So now they’re looking for a new victim to take his place. Why did they pick me? I have the afternoon off. Ta-da, Echo will do it. I also fit the suit, being almost the same size as Randy but with less paunch. Gloria presents me with a cushion to stuff down my pants. Thanks, Gloria.

I stare at myself in the mirror. “You look ridiculous, Echo Masters.”

Yes, my name is Echo. My dad had a thing about an eighties rock band from Liverpool in England. I guess I should be grateful my middle name isn’t Bunnymen. It’s George, in case you want to know. My middle name, that is.

I really don’t mind this gig. I’m rapidly approaching thirty, a new resident in Collier’s Creek, and it’s good to take part in the community. I grew up in a small town like this in Florida. My smile fades, and I trace the thin scar on my cheek. No, not like Collier’s Creek. Here I’m just the bartender. There I was the freak. There’s a reason I never go home.

“Echo, get your butt in here so I can laugh…I mean check your costume.”

I waggle my middle finger at the door in response to Gloria’s bellow. She’s a decade younger than me and twice as fierce.

“I saw that,” she yells.

“No, you didn’t.”

“So you admit it. Hah!”

I roll my eyes. One day that girl will take over the world. God help every man who stands in her way.

I waddle out of the bedroom, relieved that the cushion stays in place. Ain’t no one who can walk gracefully with a cushion stuffed down their pants. How do women do this pregnancy gig?

Gloria emerges from my kitchen and beams at me. “You look perfect. Deputy Ben is gonna be thrilled.” Then she claps her hands over her mouth. “Oops.”

I immediately scowl. “Is he the one who put you up to this?”

“I shouldn’t have told you that. Pretend you didn’t hear me.”

I fold my arms on top of my huge, cushioned fake gut and stare at her. “Gloria!”

“Yes, but only because he knew if he asked you’d say no.”

“He doesn’t know that,” I say heatedly.

Gloria raises one immaculate eyebrow. Seriously, the woman has the best eyebrows ever. I need lessons. “Look me in the eyes while you lie to my face.”

I sigh because she’s right. “Okay, okay. I might have been less willing to take part if he’d asked.”

“Girl, you’d have told him where to take his request and it wouldn’t be anything my momma could hear.”

Let me explain. Everyone loves Deputy Ben. I mean, the whole of Collier’s Creek thinks the guy walks on water. He’s lived in the town like forever, and is shacked up with the silver fox of a sheriff. Of course they all love him.

Except me.

I have a good reason, believe me.

“You really need to move on,” Gloria says. “It was one ticket.”

“And the first two hours of my life in Collier’s Creek.”

On my first day in the town, he hands me a ticket, then locks me up in a cell for two hours when I argue about it. All for parking in the wrong place by the town square. How was I to know that space was reserved for the sheriff and his cannoli. At least that’s how Gloria described it. No man gets between the sheriff and his pastries. The sheriff lets me out with a, “Don’t do it again and welcome to Collier’s Creek,” and sends me on my way. Later on, I heard he told Ben to calm down a little with the tickets. Ben was a new deputy and trying to prove himself a little too hard. I was one of his victims.

I don’t care. I’m done with the cute deputy. What do you mean, it’s kinda petty? I’m a Masters. We can hold grudges until the day we breathe our last. Just ask my Aunt Sylvia. Well, you can’t because she’s dead, but that woman had her grudges lined up like other people line up their spices.

“And you made a crack to Ben about how hot the sheriff was and did he like younger men. That’s why he locked you up. Not for the ticket. You know that. He thought you were making a move on his man.”

I groan. Because I did do that. I can never keep my mouth shut.

“And he still let you rent his house. Why are you complaining?”

This is true. My aunt organized the rental before I arrived in Collier’s Creek. It was kinda awkward when he realized he’d locked up his new tenant. And why am I even arguing with Gloria when Deputy Ben is her best friend? She thinks the sun shines out of his ass. Maybe she’s right.

Couldn’t there have been anyone else to play Santa. One of Jake’s descendants or something? “What about the mayor’s brother? What’s his name?”

Gloria grimaces. “Dean. Yeah, no one would ask him. You love Santa and Christmas. You’ve told me enough times.”

“Yes, yes I do.” Christmas is my favorite time of year. And Collier’s Creek has snow!

“Well, he doesn’t.”

“Doesn’t what?”

“Like Christmas. Catch up.”

“Dean hates Christmas?”

World, break my heart, why don’t you? How can the man of my dreams hate the best time of the year? I plan to ask him out on a date to the tree lighting ceremony. Maybe the day after, knowing Randy will have me working on the night itself. The joy of being a bartender means I work all the special occasions.

But I’m going to take him to the tree lighting and whisper sweet nothings in his ear all night and after that…well, the rest of the night is behind closed doors. I’m not the type of guy who treats my loving as a spectator sport. Some guys are. I’m not one of them.

I see Gloria watching me closely. “What?”

“It’s never gonna happen,” she says.

“What isn’t?”

“You and Dean Hobart. Whatever white picket fence dream you’ve got going on in there…” She taps my head. “Dean is never gonna step out of his closet long enough to find the man of his dreams.

I huff, but I don’t argue because I know she’s right. The mayor’s brother has his closet door bolted tighter than a chastity belt. One shift at Randy’s Rodeo Grill and Bar convinced me of that. The ironic thing is, in a town full of gay men, Dean is the one man unable to step out into the sunshine, and that’s so damn sad. I’d love to show that man what it’s like to bask in my sunshine, if you know what I mean.

Gloria sighs. “You know, honey. Just ignore me. You chase after Dean, and Aunty Gloria will be here to mend your broken heart when he stomps on it.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” I mutter.

“He wouldn’t mean to,” she agrees. “You’re not the first guy to drool after him, but he’s wound tighter than an 8-day clock.”

I have no idea what an 8-day clock is, but I just nod, because Gloria is full of these sayings. I like the girl, and I’m never going to upset her. Which is why I’m dressed up as Santa Claus for a bunch of old folks.

“If you want a special guy, you need to try the lonely-hearts app,” she suggests.

“The last time I tried Love Heartz, they matched me with Barky.”

“That monster? You’ve got to be joking. He’ll eat you alive.”

True, Barkasaurus Rex came with a reputation, but the fact I’d been matched with a small hairy hound from hell didn’t seem to faze her. Collier’s Creek residents were a strange bunch, but I loved them. I still didn’t want to date the dog. I’m an in-person dater. I like my men up close and very personal.

“When do you throw me to the wolves?” I pluck at the belt. How do people wear these things? I can barely breathe.

“Now is good,” she says brightly.

I stare at her. “Now? I don’t even get a sandwich as a bribe?”

“You get snacks at the facility. Shift your butt. Santa has a job to do.”

“You did this deliberately, didn’t you? Hey, leave my butt alone. Speaking of butts, there are holes in the suit.”

“I don’t think anyone is gonna notice, honey. They’ll be more interested in the presents.” Gloria squeezes my ass, although with this much padding I don’t really feel it. “Come on.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I grumble.

“If I leave you to think about it, you might weasel out. Let’s go.”

I pick up my wallet and keys and let her herd me out of my house. “This is one afternoon,” I warn.

I don’t trust her non-committal, “Uh-huh,” at all. I know Gloria.

Collier’s Creek assisted living facility is on the edge of the town. It’s large, considering the size of the town, but folks like to retire here for some reason. I’ve been here many times. My aunt manages the place, and my boss, Randy, is one of those guys with a heart of gold who’ll do anything for anyone as long as he can plaster Randy’s Rodeo Grill and Bar over it. He holds dance afternoons here. The biggest mistake I made was telling him I can dance. Guess who hosts the afternoons?

Gloria drives. She really does expect me to run away. She’s driving her old woody wagon, and in the back is a large red sack full of gifts.

“Why are we doing this straight after Thanksgiving?” I ask.

“No idea. Maybe some of the residents don’t think they’ll make it to Christmas.”

“Gloria!” I gape at her, and she laughs.

“No seriously, I don’t know. It’s another Jake tradition like the tree lighting. But there’s a lot going on in Collier’s Creek up to Christmas, and it’s got to happen at some time.”

That makes as much sense as any explanation, I guess. We’ve had a fresh fall of snow. As I’m from Florida, I was entranced by the first fall of snow in October. Now I ignore it like everyone else. Gloria drives like a Creeker, with no respect for the road conditions. I close my eyes and pray to Santa that I’ll get there in one piece and not be taken to hospital in a Santa costume.

She screeches up to the entrance, and I swear the only reason I don’t get whiplash is because of the padding.

Gloria turns to me. “Go get ‘em, Santa.”

I stare at her in horror. “You’re not coming with me?”

I thought she was going to be here to protect me.

“Not today, hun. I’ve got the graveyard shift. The sheriff gave me a couple of hours to sort this out because Ben promised him wicked things.”

I bet he did. A thought occurs to me. “How am I getting home?”

Gloria winks at me. “A certain mayor’s brother is giving you a ride home. You can thank me later.”

I heave myself out of the car, grab the sack from the backseat, lean in, and grin at her. “If this happens, you can ask me to be Santa any time.”

She waggles her fingers at me and is gone, wheels spinning down the drive before I barely shut the door.

I sigh and pick up the sack, slinging it over my shoulder. I trudge toward the door and lean on the doorbell.

“Hello, who is it?”

Now, I know they have a camera on me, and they can see what I look like. And that right there was definitely a giggle. “It’s Santa Claus come to deliver gifts.”

“Aren’t you a month early, Santa?”

I force my widest smile at the camera. “It’s a Jake’s tradition.”

“Password accepted. Come on in, Santa.”

The lock clicks and I push the door open to be greeted by Hebe Treeby. Hebe is the manager of the facility and, as far as I’m concerned, the most wonderful woman to walk the earth. Just never laugh at her name or we’ll have words. She’s also my aunt, Mom’s sister, and the one member of my family I speak to. She’s the only one who never cared I was gay. There’s a reason for that.

“Aunty Hebe!”

I pick her up and twirl her around.

She splutters and laughs and pushes me away from her. “You are a rascal, Echo Masters.”

“I know.”

“Or should I call you Santa Echo?”

“Hush.” I pretend to look around. “We don’t want anyone to think I’m not the real Santa.”

“We wouldn’t want anyone to think that,” Hebe says solemnly, then spoils it with a giggle. She stands on tiptoe and kisses the only part of my cheek not covered in the hat. “Thanks for agreeing to stand in for Randy.”

“You sent Deputy Ben who sent Gloria after me, Aunty. Did I have a choice?”

“Probably not,” she admits. “She’s a force of nature. But it was Deputy Ben who thought you’d be a great Santa.”

Of course he did. He probably has a camera watching me so he can laugh.

I heave the sack onto my back. “Come on then, Santa has a job to do.”

“Dean’s waiting for you in the lounge.”

I stumble, nearly ending up on my knees. She giggles as she catches my arm.

“Careful, Santa. You don’t want to break your leg.”

“Dean Hobart is here already?” I hiss.

She gives me an innocent look that I know from experience is fake. “Don’t you need a ride back to town?”

“Aunty, don’t you give me that look. I know you. You could have given me a ride. Why is Dean here?”

“He’s hosting the bingo session.”

“I didn’t know he volunteered.”

“He volunteers here a lot. He’s a sweetheart.”

I’ve been busy lusting after him and bemoaning the fact that he’s Narnia-deep in the closet, but really, I don’t know much about the guy.

“Hebe, the residents are getting impatient. Santa’s holding up the bingo afternoon. Oh…”

The man who has haunted more than one of my dreams stares at me, and I return his gaze with interest. We are about the same height. He has a few years on me, although I know he’s younger than the mayor. Dressed in a cream sweater and tight black jeans, his dark hair neatly styled, he looks frankly edible…and I look like a thrift store Santa Claus in a padded suit with a tickly beard, and a cushion stuffed down my pants.

Aunty Hebe takes my arm. “Come on, Santa. You can’t hold up bingo. They’ll never let you forget it.”

“Lead on, Aunty. I’ve got to get back to the North Pole and help the elves.”

She giggles. Dean stares at me like I’ve lost my marbles.

“Look who’s come to visit,” she calls out to the residents in the lounge. “What a surprise.”

“It’s hardly a surprise, Hebe,” an elderly woman with mauve hair says acerbically. “He turns up on the same day every year. Why he can’t come closer to Christmas, I don’t know.” She squints at me over the rim of her glasses. “You’re not Santa.”

“Now then, Brenda,” Aunty Hebe starts.

I hold up my hand and wander over to Brenda, bending down to whisper, “What gave it away?”

“Randy doesn’t need the padding.”

This is true. My boss is more rounded in the gut than me, hence the cushion.

She eyes me critically. “He fills out the suit.”

“I was a late substitute from the North Pole.”

“You mean he ran away so Gloria conned you into helping because Dean hates Christmas.”

I hear two strangled coughs behind me. I turn to see Dean and Aunty Hebe staring at us.

“Quit hogging Santa, Brenda. You’re too old for him,” a man says from his wingback seat by the window.

“Santa is over 1700 years old,” Dean says.

We all turn to look at him and he flushes.

“I looked it up,” he mumbles, avoiding my gaze.

“That makes him way older than me,” Brenda crows as she gives me a speculative look.

I hold my hands up. “I’m sorry Brenda, I’m afraid my heart is already taken by Mr. Claus.”

The last thing I need is an entanglement of the female kind. I’m strictly of the mister variety.

Brenda sniffs. “Typical.”

Did Dean look disappointed for a moment? Then I processed what I’d said. Did he think I was attached. Is he interested in me? I catch his gaze, and he goes a delightful shade of pink.

Interesting!

“Santa, it’s time you delivered the presents,” Hebe says. “We don’t want to delay the bingo session.”

Oh yeah, I have a job to do other than stare at the pretty man.

I dip into the sack to pull out a gift, pink for girls, blue for boys, and hand it to Brenda with a flourish. “Merry Christmas, Miss Brenda.”

I expect a sarcastic remark but instead she smiles at me. “Merry Christmas, young man…Santa.”

I nod and move onto the next resident. Most seem happy to receive a gift even if they are toiletries and covered in wrapping with Randy’s logo in silver on the pink and blue paper. I know because I was designated present wrapper this year. Hebe introduces me to each resident, and we make special trips to residents not well enough to join the crowd in the lounge.

I don’t mind admitting by the time we circle back to the entrance I am ready for a cool soda and to put my feet up. I’m sweltering in the suit.

Aunt Hebe beams at me. “Thank you, Echo. You did so well.”

I’m not sure how I could have gotten it wrong, but I’m glad she’s pleased.

“Dean will drive you home. Dinner as usual on Monday?”

“See you then, Aunt Hebe.”

Monday is the one night we are both free, and I enjoy our family time together.

I turn to Dean hovering by the door, car keys in hand. Suddenly there’s an outraged yelp and bark as I trip over something, arms wheeling as I lose my balance, and I hit the floor, with a pain in my left leg that takes my breath away.