“Come on then.” Robin feigned reluctance. He loved romantic movies, not that he’d ever admit as much to any of his family. I guess Mom and I are more alike than I’d thought.
Ryan nudged Robin as they left the bedroom. “It’s not so bad. Think of it as research. If you’re gonna hook yourself a guy, you’ll need all the help you can get.”
Robin said nothing. He’d take a little romance if it came his way. Hell, he’d take a lot of romance if it came to that. Except what were the chances on finding a gay guy in Lake Placid, who was also a hopeless romantic at heart, and who would think Robin hung the moon?
Pretty fucking slim.
Then he remembered. Hey, it’s Christmas. Miracles do happen, right?
Sure they did—in a Hallmark movie about straight people.
Chapter Two
“I think this is what you had in mind,” Dean Quentin said as he handed a tall glass to his friend Suze. “Well, you said on the phone you needed a lot of booze.” The five friends were in Dean’s living room, soft piano music playing in the background. That was Kris’s choice. Next time, it would be Kate’s turn to pick the music, and with her taste, it could be anything from Beethoven to Rhianna.
A fire burned in the fireplace, adding the sound of crackling logs to the music, the flames reflecting on the varnished hardwood floor. Kris and Suze were on the small sofa, Kate was on the large one, and Diane was seated in Dean’s huge armchair, looking extremely mellowed out, a cocktail glass in her hand. Dean’s ragdoll kitty, Lady Marmalade—Lady for short—was curled up in Diane’s lap, her eyes closed, paws tucked under her chest.
Kate had the newest occupant next to her on a cushion. Thankfully, the kitten had worn himself out that afternoon, but Dean suspected he had one more burst of frenetic activity left in him before the evening drew to a close.
Suze snorted. “You’d need a lot of booze too if you’d had to put up with my family for a whole day. Thank God Thanksgiving is only once a year.” She sniffed the contents of the glass, then fanned herself. “Goddamn, how much alcohol is in that? You could get drunk by breathing in the smell alone.”
“It’s a Long Island iced tea.” Dean grinned. “They could’ve invented it for you.” Suze was the one who could drink them all under the table, and still appear sober. “Sorry about your Thanksgiving.” He’d spent the day alone. His parents didn’t expect him to travel to Indiana, and they’d had a houseful without him by the sound of it. His brother, and his two sisters and their respective partners had gone there. Dean would only have been one more person to find a bed for.
“There ought to be a law about that, you know,” Suze groused. “I mean, I’m twenty-eight, for Christ’s sake. Isn’t there a cut-off point when you don’t have to go home for Thanksgiving? You can simply give an excuse? Like, hello, I have a life?” She glanced over to where Dean stood by the cabinet that served as his bar. “You didn’t have to go home, right? You’re what, thirty-two? So is that it? I have to get to thirty before I get a pass for Thanksgiving? Besides, I moved out years ago when I went to college.”
“And speaking of which… did your parents pay your way through college?” Diane inquired. Dean recognized that tone. Suze’s remarks had clearly touched a nerve. Diane had worked damn hard to pay for her education; her parents were the proverbial dirt-poor.
“Sure. But that’s their job, right?”
Four heads jerked in her direction. Dean shook his head. “Nice attitude.”
Kris gave Suze a hard stare. “They love you, don’t they? At least they invited you. Be thankful.”
That shut her up for the moment. They all knew Kris’s parents had disowned him when he came out. Twenty-one years has passed since then, and now and again it was obvious the event still pained Kris.
Suze’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?”
Four voices replied in a synchronized chorus of “yes.”
She widened her eyes. “Wow. Really feeling the love here, guys.” She gave Kris an apologetic glance. “I know I have a totally shitty relationship sometimes with my parents, but you’re right, they do love me. And I have it way better than some people.”
“Yes, you do. But Thanksgiving tends to bring out the worst in families.” Kris patted her arm. “It’s okay, girl. We still love you.” He settled back to drink his martini.
“Have I mentioned how much I’m loving our post-Thanksgiving soiree?” Kate sipped her drink. “All the chaos and rush, parents, family, and now this—a civilized, relaxed evening of munchies, booze, and chat.” She glanced at the sleeping kitten beside her. “And cats.”
“I didn’t see you digging into the munchies all that much,” Dean observed.
Kate groaned. “I ate too much the last few days, so I’m being good. Because who wants to see a fat gym teacher?” She patted her belly.
Dean had to laugh. “You’re one of these really annoying people who can eat enough to choke a pig, and still look awesome. Me, on the other hand? I so much as get a whiff of a donut and a few seconds later it’s applying itself to my hips. My stomach. My ass.”
“I like guys who are a little chunky,” Kris murmured. Then he gazed at Dean in horror. “Not that you’re chunky, you understand. Not in the slightest. I mean—”
“Kris?” Diane’s eyes sparkled. “Quit digging that hole.”
Laughter rippled around the room.
“And let’s be honest, Dean. That’s a mighty fine ass you have there,” Suze added. When everyone stared at her, she frowned. “What? Don’t give me that ‘Oh Suze’ look because you’re all thinking it too.”
“Maybe, but we have more tact than to say it,” Kate said with a glare. “Especially when he’s sitting right there.” Her lips twitched. “Wait until he’s left the room so we can talk about him like we do everyone else.”
Dean gaped at them. “So what you’re saying is, you’ve all been ogling my ass?”
The three women gazed at him, all biting back smiles. Then Kate put her hand to her chest. “Aw, he didn’t notice. How cute is that?”
“Damn, we’re good.” Suze grinned as she high-fived Kate. “And look at him blush.”
“Girls.” That one word from Diane was enough to have them clearing their throats. “You keep that up, and Dean won’t invite us anymore.”
Kate gasped. “Nooo. We need our Sunday night soirees.” She raised her glass to the group. “To Dean, who opens up his home once a month to his favorite fag hags.” Diane and Suze joined her in the toast.
Dean glowered at Kate. “How many times do I have to say this? Will you please not refer to yourselves like that?” Kate and Suze had been doing it since he joined the staff at the high school four years ago. Then he’d introduced them to Diane, and Dean had swiftly found himself with a circle of intimate female friends who loved meeting up for drinks and gossip. He saw Suze and Kate every day, of course, but in the staffroom they toned down their banter, which was no bad thing. Some of the older teachers looked as if they were permanently sucking on lemons, and Dean didn’t think they’d appreciate his little posse’s sense of humor.