Because Naughty Holidays Can Be Oh So Nice 2015 (9 page)

An electrical hum started at the base of his spine, growing stronger by the second until his body was pulsing with electricity. He grunted and groaned, clenching his teeth, desperate to hold off until RT was ready, but it quickly became too much. With a muted roar, Z let go.

“Ah, yeah,” RT groaned, his hips pummeling him several more times before he stilled, his dick pulsing in Z’s ass.

When RT fell forward on top of him, Z wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight.

“Love you,” he whispered against RT’s ear.

“Love you more.”

Z’s smile widened until he thought his face would crack.

Chapter Two

THE FOLLOWING EVENING, Ryan walked into the house, his nose instantly sniffing the air when the scent of… God, he didn’t know what the smell was, but it was amazing. Tossing his coat onto the back of the couch, he made a beeline for the kitchen.

“What are you making?” he asked Z, who was moving around the kitchen with the ease of a man much, much smaller than his six-foot-seven-inch frame should allow.

“Dinner,” he said, turning and shooting a blinding smile at Ryan.

“What is it?” Ryan moved around the island, trying to peek into the oven to see for himself.

“Nuh-uh,” Z admonished, grabbing Ryan’s face and planting a kiss on his lips before gripping his shoulders and spinning him back around. “It’ll be ready soon enough. Go sit down and I’ll get you something to drink.”

Ryan grumbled good-naturedly as he headed to their bedroom and grabbed his iPad. He hadn’t had time all day to do any searching for what to get Z for Christmas, so while he waited for dinner, he figured he’d check out a few things.

When he came back through the living room, he noticed the Christmas tree lights were on, flashing brightly. There were several presents beneath the tree, most of the gifts for their friends and family, but he noticed one that hadn’t been there before.

“What’s this?” he asked, moving closer.

“Don’t touch that!” Z called from the kitchen.

Ryan glanced over his shoulder, but Z wasn’t there to see him, so he reached down.

“Don’t you dare!”

Ryan jumped when Z’s voice sounded from right behind him. How the hell did a man that big move that fast? And that quietly?

With a heavy sigh, Ryan stood upright. “Who’s it for?”

“Not tellin’ you.” Z’s smile lit up his entire face.

“What is it?”

“Not tellin’ you that, either.”

Which meant the present was for Ryan. There were a couple of other ones he’d noticed beneath the tree, as well. And every time he had attempted to pick them up to rattle the box to see if he could get some idea, Z would always stop him. Hell, one time, Z had called at the exact moment Ryan had been about to grab one. It was as though he’d known what Ryan was up to.

He instantly looked up into the corners, checking for cameras. He wouldn’t put it past Z to wire the place just so he could keep an eye on him. The thought made him smile, but he quickly remembered that Z had reprimanded him.

Pasting a frown on his face, Ryan took his iPad back to the kitchen and slid into his chair, facing Z.

“You workin’?” Z asked, nodding toward the iPad.

“You could say that.” Working to find the best damn Christmas present of all time.

“Somethin’ wrong? New case? Or is this about the merger?”

Ryan shook his head.

“Did you stay at the office all day today?”

For weeks now, Ryan and Z had managed to take Saturday or Sunday off, sometimes both. Today, although it was Saturday, Ryan had needed to get some things cleared off his desk, so he’d opted to go in for a few hours. It was easier without all the distractions.

“No,” he told Z. “I’m not meeting with Alex McDermott until after the holidays. He’s given me his requirements for the acquisition. I just need to talk to Conner about them.” He looked up at Z.

And he hadn’t. Although their jobs usually required a bit of danger and risk, Ryan hadn’t spent the day dealing with security issues. Instead, he’d done the riskiest, most dangerous thing of all. He’d gone to the mall.

On the weekend before Christmas.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realize his mistake. People were freaking crazy when it came to finding last-minute gifts, so he’d checked out a couple of places and then hightailed it out of the danger zone.

“You go by and see your parents?” Z asked.

“Yeah.”

“How’re they doin’?”

“Good. Mom’s goin’ overboard about Christmas dinner, but that’s not unusual. Luckily Lilah’s there to keep her calm.” Lilah was the saving grace in the Trexler kitchen. She’d been working for Ryan’s parents for more than thirty years, and thankfully she was still willing to help plan a holiday meal that was big enough to feed a small army.

“Did you remind them I’m makin’ pies?” Z asked, peering over at Ryan from his spot at the stove.

“I did. What kind are you making?”

“Pumpkin, cherry, and I’m lookin’ for my recipe for Jack Daniel’s pecan pie. My dad used to make them when we were kids. Can’t find it anywhere.”

“Can’t you just pull one up on the Internet?” Ryan asked.

Z’s
get real
face gave him his answer.

It was true, Ryan wasn’t much of a cook. And he definitely wasn’t a baker. He didn’t know the first thing about the kitchen, other than how to heat a TV dinner in the microwave. Until Z had moved in, that had been all that he ate, anyway. Since then, though … Z didn’t even allow Ryan to buy TV dinners anymore.

Not that he could complain, because Z was keeping him fed and fed well. In fact, Ryan had gained at least five pounds since they’d gotten married. According to Z, he’d been too skinny. Now, Ryan was having to pay extra attention to keep from overdoing it.

“Have you asked your mom?” Ryan questioned as he typed
Jack Daniels pecan pie recipes
into his iPad.

“Yeah. She said she’d look for it. I need it by Wednesday, though, if I expect to get enough pies made.”

Speaking of Wednesday… “We’ve got a lunch date with Buddy tomorrow and dinner on Saturday after Christmas.”

“Yep,” Z confirmed. “And don’t forget the company Christmas party on Monday afternoon.”

How could he forget that? His cousin Kira, along with Sniper 1’s loyal receptionist, Jayden, had decided to do a white elephant exchange at the office on Monday as their official Christmas party. Kira and Jayden had said that they couldn’t buy alcohol to trade, because that was too easy, which was true, because that had always been Ryan’s choice. People would fight over the cheapest liquor at one of these things.

Luckily, Z was the king of buying gifts, and he’d gone out last week and found one for each of them.

Which was good, because it left Ryan with time to figure out what to get Z. Too bad he still had no idea, and they were T minus six days and counting.

AFTER PLACING THE food on the table, along with two plates and silverware, Z joined RT, watching as RT turned off his iPad and pushed it to the side.

“This smells fabulous,” RT noted, dishing pot roast onto his plate. Little did RT know, but that was one of the easiest meals Z made, especially considering he let it cook in the Crock-Pot all day. The only thing Z had to do was make rice, which took all of five minutes.

Dishing food on his own plate, Z continued to steal glimpses of RT. He could tell that something was bothering him. And he was pretty sure he knew what it was. After all, he was trained to read people, and RT … well, for Z, RT was like an open book. Granted, it hadn’t always been that way, but since they’d finally given in to the overwhelming lust they’d both battled for years and taken that plunge, Z didn’t have a hard time figuring out what RT was thinking.

But if it was what Z thought it was—RT looking for the perfect gift for him for Christmas—Z wasn’t sure he should even bring it up.

Hell, he’d been leaving hints about it for the past week, but apparently RT was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice.

First, Z had suggested they get a new coffee maker. Possibly one of those fancy Keurig deals or even that Starbucks thing that made lattes. After all, RT drank as much, if not more coffee than Z.

Nothing.

Then, last weekend when Z had been making a cake to take to the nursing home, he’d mentioned that he could use a new mixer. He’d even broken off into a conversation about the cool standing mixers he’d seen in an ad.

Nothing.

And
then
, Z had gone so far as to take an ad from Bed Bath and Beyond and circle a number of things, including a Pyrex storage container set, a stainless steel Crock-Pot, measuring cups, oven mitts. Hell, he’d even put a star beside that cool Magic Bullet thing out now.

Still nothing.

Aside from writing a list and putting it on the bathroom mirror for RT to notice, Z wasn’t sure how to get his attention. Truth was, he didn’t really want a gift—he already had the greatest gift he could ever have, and that was RT’s love—but he knew RT was getting worked up over the fact he wanted to buy something for Z.

So what if Z loved to spend time in the kitchen? It wasn’t like he could depend on RT to cook for them. Not because RT wouldn’t do it. He would if Z asked. More because RT
couldn’t
do it. The man was not meant to be in a kitchen. Not unless the house was being demolished and the fastest way to do that was to burn it to the ground.

“Have you heard from your sister?” RT asked, pulling Z back to the moment.

Z frowned, shaking his head as he chewed. He’d been hoping he would get the chance to see his brother and sister for Christmas, but it looked as though that wasn’t going to happen. Z was going to have lunch with his mother next Sunday, a couple of days after Christmas, with RT, but it didn’t look as though Jensyn and Reese were going to make it to Dallas this year.

Hopefully, if they were lucky, Z would get to spend some time with them in January if the crazy shit at the office didn’t explode in their faces by then. There was a big merger underway, and Z knew that it was taking a lot of RT’s time.

“What about Reese? Work going good for him?”

Z looked up at RT and nodded. “Talked to him yesterday. They’re busy right now.”

Reese had taken a job with Walker Demolition—the company owned by some of Z’s friends from high school. The last time he’d talked to Reese, his brother had mentioned that they had quite a bit of overtime lately. Apparently, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing to be in the construction business during the winter in Texas. Considering the mild temperatures, it was probably better than working in the summer.

The last time Z had seen Reese, though, had been on Thanksgiving, when RT had suggested they head down to Coyote Ridge for the weekend. Z had been ecstatic to get to spend more than a few hours with his kid brother.

“Well, maybe we can get down there for New Year’s,” RT mentioned, finishing off what was on his plate.

Z drank his tea and watched RT over the rim of his cup, nodding. “That would be fantastic.”

As would figuring out what was bothering RT and how Z could make it better.

Chapter Three

RYAN WAITED FOR Z to join him as they walked toward the nursing home where Z’s father lived. When they stepped inside the doors, the woman at the receptionist desk greeted them both by name and smiled when Z placed a small gift bag on her desk.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” Z told her with that mischievous grin he was famous for.

“Merry Christmas,” she said, her cheeks turning the same bright red as the bag.

They didn’t stay for her to open the gift because Z was obviously a man on a mission. Ryan fell into step with Z when he headed toward the doors that led to the section where Z’s comatose father had been for the past four, going on five, years.

Z made his rounds, handing out gifts to all of the nurses who were there, leaving several more for those who worked different shifts. Ryan found it endearing that Z was so thoughtful when it came to the people in his life. Although he probably didn’t know some of the staff at the nursing home, he’d made sure to get something for every person there. That was one of the many reasons people loved Z. Not because he brought gifts but because he saw everyone as someone important.

When Z had handed out all of his gifts, he took the cake that Ryan had carried in and set it down on the nurse’s station counter before taking Ryan’s hand and leading him down the hall toward Thomas Tavoularis’s room.

“Hey, Dad,” Z announced when they walked into the room, the same as he always did. “We came to check on you.”

Ryan smiled, looking around the room to see if anything had changed since they’d last been there. He noticed a few more Christmas cards had been pinned to the bulletin board on the wall. Although Thomas would likely never see them since the odds of him waking up from the coma were minimal, Z still held out hope, which meant Ryan did, as well.

“Ah, my boys are here. I thought I heard a ruckus in the hallway.”

Ryan turned around to see Buddy Stallone, one of the residents of the nursing home and a good friend of Z’s, slowly making his way into the room. Today he was using a walker to help him around.

“Hey, Buddy,” Ryan greeted, shaking Buddy’s hand. “You’re lookin’ good.”

Buddy grinned from ear to ear. “You like it?” Buddy glanced down at his Christmas sweater. “It’s tacky sweater day.”

Ryan laughed, stepping out of the way when Z made his way over to them.

Z shook Buddy’s hand as well.

“I came by to see your ol’ man this mornin’,” Buddy told Z. “I added some of his cards to the wall. And put a new ornament on the tree.”

Ryan glanced over at the small Christmas tree sitting on the dresser beside Thomas’s bed. The lights were on, twinkling away.

“I noticed that,” Z said. “You make it?”

“I did. Those crazy ladies keep askin’ me to the arts and crafts room.”

Ryan fought the urge to laugh when Buddy blushed.

“I hope you’re not flirtin’ with them,” Z teased. “They’ll never give you a minute’s peace if you do.”

“Don’t I know it,” Buddy said with a gravelly chuckle.

“You hungry yet?” Z asked Buddy after turning his attention back from the tree.

“Whenever you boys are.”

“You know Z,” Ryan said, “he’s always hungry.”

Buddy smiled at them both, a knowing look in his eyes. Z had told Ryan the stories about how Buddy had always wanted to hear about Z’s adventures. But there had been one in particular that Buddy had fixated on, and it was the last one he and Z had been on together, when they’d been hired to keep an eye on a painting down near the coast.

According to Buddy, he was a sucker for a good romance.

Every time Z mentioned that story, Ryan blushed as well. Although he didn’t exactly consider it a romance, he could see it from Buddy’s perspective. It had been the point in Ryan’s life that had sent his world into a tailspin, the moment when he realized just what he’d been missing in his life.

Love.

And Z.

Which were, now that he thought about it, one and the same. At least for him.

“Food’s waitin’,” Buddy said as he turned and headed for the door.

Ryan accepted Z’s hand when he held it out to him, and they followed Buddy to the cafeteria.

“HEY,” Z SAID to Buddy when the three of them were sitting at a table in the cafeteria, chowing down on chicken and mashed potatoes. “You should tell RT about the gift you bought your wife when y’all were first married.”

Buddy’s face lit up like the Christmas tree in the corner of the cafeteria. Z knew how much Buddy loved talking about his deceased wife; he’d been honored to hear the stories multiple times during the time they’d known each other. And this one was one of his favorites.

Buddy smiled at RT, then launched right into his story. “Meg and I were married in 1952. We share a birthday, so we were both twenty-two at the time. Piss-poor but living on love, so it didn’t really matter until it came time for a holiday or anniversary. I was always hoping to buy her the biggest, flashiest gift I could find. I’d been looking for three weeks for something to get her. I found plenty, but everything I wanted to get her cost more than I had to spend, so I had started a list with all my ideas and kept it taped behind the dresser in our bedroom, hoping she wouldn’t find it.

“I’d underestimated my wife, because a week before Christmas, she found the list. I’d come home to find her sitting on the bed staring at the list with tears in her eyes. I immediately panicked and asked her what was wrong.”

Buddy’s eyes seemed to glaze over, and Z knew he was reliving that day.

“Meggie? What’s wrong, honey?”

Buddy took a deep breath and stepped into their bedroom, his eyes glued to the piece of paper in her hand. He pulled open the top drawer and grabbed a handkerchief, holding it out for her. Meg took it from him but didn’t look up at his face, which concerned him.

He knew exactly what that paper was. What he didn’t understand was why she was crying. He had the list memorized, so he ran through it several times while he stared down at his beautiful bride sitting on the edge of the mattress, her hair pulled back from her face, tears dripping from her chin.

She sniffled, then pressed the handkerchief to her nose before lifting her dark brown eyes to meet his. For the first time since he’d stepped into the room, Buddy took a breath. She didn’t look angry, but still, it didn’t explain why she was sad.

“I found this behind the dresser,” she said softly. “I wasn’t snooping, I promise. I dropped something and reached behind it to get it and found this.” She held the paper up in front of her. “What is it?”

Buddy walked over and sat on the mattress beside her, knowing he had to explain. “It’s a list of gifts I want to buy you.”

Meg’s dark eyes rested on his face, a soft smile on her lips, and Buddy relaxed a little. “We don’t have the money for these things.”

Buddy nodded. He knew that, but it didn’t change the fact that he wanted to get them for her. If he had the money, he would’ve bought everything on the list and then some.

Meg touched his face with her soft fingers, and Buddy met her gaze. “Could you tell me why you picked them?”

Buddy frowned, confused.

“It’s the thought that counts, Buddy,” Meg explained. “And these gifts… They are very thoughtful. Maybe you could explain what made you want to get them for me.”

Buddy’s heart fell. Was Meg making fun of him? She’d never been the type of girl to pick on anyone, but he felt as though she was.

Her hand cupped his cheek. “Buddy Stallone, don’t you start overthinking this.”

She knew him so well.

Meg gave a watery chuckle, then tugged at his arm. “Come on. Climb up here and tell me why you wanted to get me these things.”

He watched as Meg moved up against the headboard of their bed, propping up pillows for him to lean against. After kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt, he walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in with her. As he rested his back against the headboard, Meg curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder as she handed him the paper.

“Tell me why you wanted to get this,” she said, pointing to the first item on the list.

Buddy grinned. “I thought you’d want a television so you could watch
I Love Lucy
,” he told her. He knew that show was her absolute favorite. Since her parents had a television and they’d yet to get one of their own, they usually went over there so she could watch.

“I do love that show,” she admitted softly. “She’s so fun. But you know I like to read more.”

True. His beautiful bride did love to read. Some days, she spent more time at the library than she did at home.

“And this one?” she said, pointing to the next item.

He glanced at her sideways. “Wouldn’t you want a dishwasher? It’s supposed to make washing dishes easier.”

“But washing dishes is already easy,” she told him, tapping his lower lip the way she always did when she was telling him he was being silly. “I do love how you want me to be happy.”

“That’s the only thing I want,” he whispered against her hair.

Meg lifted her gaze to meet his. “Well, then you’re in luck. ’Cause you already make me happy.”

Buddy’s heart swelled in his chest. Since the day he’d met her three years ago, Meg had become his entire world. He loved her with every piece of himself, and it was true, her happiness was all that mattered. And that was one of the reasons he longed to buy her nice things… He wanted to put a beautiful smile on her face.

“And this one?”

“Those were the heels you were looking at in the window at that little boutique downtown. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you saw them.”

“You remember that?” Meg’s eyes were wide as she turned to look at him again. “That was … that was more than six months ago.”

“I remember everything from that day,” he explained. “You had your hair curled, and your lips were pink from that new lipstick you’d finally bought after months of me telling you to get it. You were wearing that pretty yellow sundress and those little brown sandals. You had tried on a pair of sunglasses in one of the shops, but I told you they covered up too much of your pretty face, which made you laugh at me.” It was true, Buddy didn’t forget anything when it came to Meg.

More tears formed, and her eyes glistened, making his heart hurt again.

But when she smiled, he forgot everything.

“The greatest gift you could give me, Buddy Stallone, is the love you show me already. The fact that you remembered that … that’s the greatest gift ever. I wish we had pictures from that day.”

And that was the moment Buddy knew exactly what he would buy his beautiful bride for Christmas.

“You bought her a camera?” RT asked, looking back and forth between Buddy and Z.

Z smiled.

“Am I right?”

“Sort of,” Z admitted, grinning at Buddy.

“That year, I bought my beautiful Meg memories.”

RT frowned, obviously confused.

“Yes,” Buddy said with a laugh. “I bought her a camera. And I bought her a picture book. But I made a promise to myself that I would take many pictures with her, of her. And I did. For years and years, we collected pictures of all the things that made us both happy. And we filled up many albums with those images.”

RT grabbed his tea glass while Z watched him, trying to figure out what was going through his beautiful brain. The man worked so hard, was so good at what he did, but sometimes, he overlooked the little things. Z knew RT was trying to find the perfect gift, but just like Meg, Z already had the greatest gift in the world. The fact that RT would worry so much over trying to make Z happy … well, that made Z happier than any gift he could possibly come up with.

“So, did you find that recipe you were looking for?” Buddy asked, pulling Z’s attention back to him.

“Not yet, no. But I’m not gonna give up yet.”