Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Dean

N ot sure what Echo wants to eat. I know nothing about him except what kind of wings he likes. It turns out the takeout places know him well, and I load up with his favorites. I guess Echo really doesn’t like cooking. I raid Collier’s Creek for sandwiches, pizza, wings, and fries, and soda because I’m not sure what he wants to drink.

Echo’s eyes light up. “You’re the only person I ever want to visit me,” he assures me.

“It’s only takeout,” I say.

“This is soul food.” Echo’s moan of pleasure makes my dick stir. I tell it to pipe down. I’m not sure it listens.

“None of this is good for you,” I point out when it’s laid on the coffee table.

Echo’s mouth is too full to give me a coherent reply, but it’s along the lines of “Shut up. I’m eating.”

At some point I’m going to have to take him back to my place for a home-cooked meal. I’m not Master Chef level, but I can put a meal together. My repertoire has increased since I quit going out to bars.

I gaze at his mouth, glistening with sauce from the wings. I want to lean forward and lick his lips, taste the tang of the lemon and the herbs. I wish his mouth was full of my cock at the same time. Then I see him watching me and know we’re thinking the same thing.

I could so easily fall for this man. He makes my nerves spark and my insides puddle into goo. Which is something a nearly forty-year-old man shouldn’t be thinking. I’m too old to feel this way, but around him, that’s all I can think.

Echo swallows, coughs, and looks away, and we pretend that moment didn’t happen. But somehow our gazes keep locking. I reach for the last slice of pizza at the same time he does, and our greasy fingers slide over each other.

“You take it,” I say.

Echo shakes his head and splits it in two. “We’ll share it.”

He stuffs one half in his mouth as he offers me the other piece. I take it, shivering a little as our fingers brush together, and eat it in three bites.

“I think I’m in a food coma,” I mumble. “I won’t need the padding for the suit after this.”

There is nothing left on the table. Ariel has stalked off in disgust at not finding any treats. I’d planned for Echo to have leftovers so he wouldn’t have to worry about cooking again. I’ll have to cook for him tomorrow. I wonder if he likes pasta.

The minutes tick by too fast. I don’t want to leave Echo’s cozy home, with Ariel on my lap, as we watch…you know what? I have no idea what we’re watching because we’re too busy talking a mile a minute. I can’t remember the last time I was so happy just to sit and talk.

Eventually I can’t put off the hour any longer if I’m going to the square in time for the lighting ceremony.

“I wish you could stay with me,” Echo says as we stand by the door. He insists on walking me out despite me telling him to keep the weight off his feet.

I flush under his warm gaze. “Believe me, there’s nowhere I’d rather be,” I say honestly.

“You don’t like the tree lighting ceremony?”

I shrug. What can I say?

Echo gives me an understanding smile. “Bad memories?”

I shake my head. “Good ones. Marty and I kissed under the tree when everyone had gone home. I spend time there when no one else is around. It gives me a chance to think about him.”

“You could take me there sometime and tell me about Marty,” Echo suggests.

“You mean it?”

He smiles at me. “I’d like to know more about the boy who captured your heart.”

“You know he’s another one with parents who liked the eighties.”

He furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Marty? Marty McFly. His mom was a huge Back to the Future fan. She had a crush on Michael J. Fox.”

Echo’s smile widens. “How many of us suffered with eighties parents?”

“It was a strange era,” I say solemnly, and we burst out laughing.

I put on my coat and hat. But before I can tug my gloves and leave, Echo leans forward and kisses me. His lips are soft and his bristles rasp against my chin in counterpoint. My mouth parts under his and Echo moans, cupping my head, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. We rock slightly off balance, and I hold him steady, not wanting to send him flying. Finally I pull back, needing to breathe. His eyes are glazed and his mouth puffy. I put that look on him, and I revel in it.

He blinks and focuses on me and lets out a long sigh. “Damn.” He licks his lips.

The urge to pull him into my arms is overwhelming, but before I can, he says, “If you want to, come back here after the tree ceremony.”

I hesitate. “I want to…”

“But. I can hear a but.” Echo doesn’t seem angry, more resigned.

“I’m not sure I’m ready,” I confess.

He kisses me once more. “It’s okay, honey. I understand.”

“You’re not angry with me?”

“Not angry,” he assures me. “We only met yesterday. I’m an impulsive kind of guy. Sometimes I leap in too fast. Tell me if it’s too much.”

“If you were a hookup I wouldn’t care,” I admit.

Echo gives me a long look. “I can be.

I give him a wry smile. “No, I don’t think so, do you?”

His smile is just as wry. “Maybe not.”

We lock gazes, and I can’t breathe for a moment. I’m scared and worried and needy.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” I suggest finally.

“I’d like that.” He takes hold of my hand. “If you sit under the tree tonight to think of Marty and need a friend, you call me, okay?”

Tears prickle in the back of my eyes, but I swallow hard and nod. “I will.”

I press a kiss into the palm of his hand and leave him before I can convince myself to stay.

Collier’s Creek is one of those towns that does everything to excess. We ain’t subtle. If there’s an excuse for a parade or a celebration, we do it. Jake’s Day was last month, and Thanksgiving was two days ago, but let’s light up the tree and celebrate the festive season.

Maybe I’m a little cynical now, but I can remember the awe I felt as a small kid being taken to see the big tree in the square burst into a million fairy lights, at least that’s what it seemed to me.

I wonder if old Jake Collier would have been pleased at the way his town enjoyed every moment of life.

The square is jammed with people and craft stalls and noise just as it is every year, while the tree stays dark, waiting for its moment of glory. I stop at CC’s stall for a hot chocolate. There are food stalls everywhere, but the last thing I need to do is eat after the feast this afternoon. I might never eat again.

“Dean.”

I turn at the sound of my name to see Hebe and her wife, Heather, waving at me. “Hey. How are you? Heather, I thought you weren’t back until Monday?”

Heather hugs me. “I missed her so much I had to come home early.”

Hebe and Heather look like twins or sisters at least, both tall and slender, with dark graying curly hair. Echo’s aunt once told me without Heather by her side my family would have destroyed her. Then she told me they might have done the same thing to Echo if she hadn’t been there. Families can do that.

“We’re fine.” Hebe beams at me. She seems to weave either side of me as if she’s looking for someone. “Is Echo here?”

I shake my head. “He’s taking the doc’s advice and resting his ankle. It’s really swollen up.”

Hebe raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I’ve just come from there.” I know the second that’s out of my mouth it’s the wrong thing to say.

“Did you?” She waggles her eyebrows at me.

“I just brought him food,” I protest.

“Uh-huh.” Her drawl goes on forever.

“Leave him alone,” Heather chides. ‘You did the same for me when we first met.”

I haven’t heard that story and raise an eyebrow to drawl the same, “Oh?”

“Another time,” Hebe says hastily. “There are children around.”

“Of course,” I say, not even pretending to hold back my mirth.

Heather smirks at me, licks her finger and pretends to make a score one.

“I should never have introduced you,” Hebe mutters.

Heather links her arm with her wife’s. “Come on. We’ll leave Dean to his hot chocolate. He might want to get back to Echo.”

I force a smile. Not tonight. I have my usual plan for tonight, and I don’t need to dump my misery on a man I’ve only just met. But I wave them off and finish my drink, dumping the cup in a trash can. Then I skirt around the families, waving at people I know, heading to the stage where Danny is waiting for the big moment.

“Good people of Collier’s Creek.”

I grimace at the old-fashioned greeting and the feedback growl from the microphone.

“Thank you all for coming. Before our very own Kandi Kane presses the big button…”

I look at the local celebrity he’s roped in this year. Blonde, bouncing, and brainless. Then I scold myself because I don’t need to be nasty, just because I want to be back in a cozy room with a hot bartender and his cat. I know her, she’s sweet and pretty and goodness, she can’t sing. I wince as she bellows out the first verse, but no one else seems to care. Kandi is perfect for lighting the tree. Danny’s good at picking the crowd-pleasers.

I smile and cheer and wave along with everyone else, and for a moment Danny’s eyes light on me, and I get a nod of approval. He’s annoying, but he’s my brother, and I’d do anything for him, as he would for me.

The crowd bursts into a noisy countdown.

Three. Two. One.

The tree turns into a spiral of sparking lights. I stare up at it, framed against the night sky. “Merry Christmas, Marty.”

I leave the festivities and wonder what to do with myself for the hours until the tree becomes mine. I could go back to Echo; I know he’d be pleased to see me, but I’m not ready yet. Tonight is Marty’s night.

Midnight finds me back at the tree, just as it had for the past twenty years. Everyone has gone home to their beds. It’s cold, the temperature having dropped considerably during the evening. I huddle in my coat as I stare up at the tree. It’s as beautiful as it is every year. I wonder if anyone does the same thing as me and visit it alone just to think.

The first few years I’d wept for what I’d lost, for what Marty had lost. Although he would be forever young and beautiful and I’m a middle-aged man. For the first time in twenty years, I wish there was another man beside me. I wait for the guilt to wash over me. It does, although not as hard as it would have done.

I kneel to place a small car by the tree. It was a joke between us. A wish that one day we’d ride out of Collier’s Creek and never look back. The joke is that neither of us left. Marty went to his cold place in the family plot and me, well, the ambition to conquer the world died along with the sweet boy of mine.

I wipe away the tears and pull out my phone. I hit the connect button. I’m relieved to hear Echo’s voice. I didn’t know if he’d be asleep already.

“Dean? Are you all right?”

It’s hard but finally I admit it. “I need a friend.”

“I’m already here, honey.”