Winter Wonderland (10 page)

The loss in her expression moved Kyle. “I’m so sorry to hear that. A master hand knitter! I’m not brave enough to consider it.”

“It takes work and discipline is all.” She ran gnarled fingers over his hat. “You have some promise here, but your stitches could be more even.”

“You know, Gabriel has talked about having a knitting group meet at the library. I wish I could talk you into coming, giving some advice to us. You have to be the only master hand knitter in the whole county.”

She preened over his flattery, and when he got to the actual scooping of her steps, the only way he got her to go inside instead of keeping him company was to promise he’d come in for tea once he was finished. Given how he knew that conversation was going to go, he texted Paul to let him know where he was.

He was a little surprised Paul didn’t text back, but probably he was tied up in a job.

As Kyle expected, Edna told him stories about all the knitting projects she’d done over the years, and they commiserated over the lack of a good yarn store in the area. He promised to stop by with a better sample of his work and some of the more delicious skeins from his yarn stash the next time he was over at Paul’s.

Edna raised her eyebrows at him with her schoolteacher look. “Are you stepping out with him, young man?”

The old-fashioned expression made Kyle grin. “I am.” They hadn’t discussed it, but they’d had sex, it was great, and Paul wanted a boyfriend. It wasn’t a big leap.

“Hmm.” She looked like she couldn’t quite decide if she should condone the relationship or not.

Kyle decided they should simply avoid that subject. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into visiting the care center sometime? The ladies there always love a good chat. If you come on salon day, your ears will burn with how much talk spins around.”

As expected, this made Edna prickle a bit. “I don’t dare so much as glance at the place. My son is so eager to stuff me away. He’d probably pack me up if I so much as put a toe over the door.”

“He’d have a hard time of it. We’re full up. Do you know how many people we turn away? I always hate to hear people having to go out of town, but it happens. This says nothing of the need for elder housing in general. People like you who are perfectly fine on their own but need someone to keep their walk clear. A common area where they can meet and catch up on news. A shuttle to the grocery store and help with ordering things online.”

Edna huffed. “Sounds like a fairy castle, young man.”

No, it sounded like a decent senior care facility, though in a town like Logan it might as well be one.

The sound of wheels on snow made them both look up, and to be honest, Kyle was as sorry to see their visit end as Edna was. He embraced her and promised to come by again soon. “Would it be all right to bring Linda Kay?”

Edna patted Kyle on the cheek, then kissed the spot she’d touched. “You’re too
good
for him, you know.”

Kyle grinned. “But he’s the one I
want
, Edna.”

She laughed, looking twenty years younger. “Then best of luck putting a hook in his mouth.”

She waved at him as he went out the door, though he quickly forgot her as he saw it was Frankie Blackburn coming up the walk, not Paul.

“Hi, Kyle. Marcus and I are taking you in to work.”

“Oh.” Kyle frowned. “Is Paul okay?”

“It’s a little complicated.” Frankie hunched into his red coat as a wave of wind buffeted them. He indicated the door of Paul’s house with a nod. “Go get your things. I’ll meet you in the truck.”

Kyle tried not to be worried. “I won’t be long. Just need to grab my badge, and I’m ready to go.”

“Ah. Sorry, I should have been more clear.” Frankie looked abashed. “You should get
all
your things. Marcus and I will be hosting you tonight.”

The worry in Kyle knotted into dread, but before he could ask for clarification, Frankie headed down the sidewalk, back to the truck.

Chapter Eight

K
yle tried to talk himself out of panic while he gathered his few things from inside Paul’s house. He hadn’t done anything wrong. There wasn’t any reason to feel bad. Something had probably gotten complicated, is all.

Except he couldn’t invent any excuse that wasn’t Paul not wanting to sleep with him again.

Corrina’s warning drifted back, and Kyle swore as he stuffed clothes into his bag. It was
crazy.
There wasn’t a thing wrong with two healthy, single gay men having sex. Paul hadn’t been unwilling.

Had he?

No. Paul had been
very
willing. So what had Kyle done wrong?

Frankie and Marcus drove a smart new SUV, and it was warm and cozy as Kyle slipped into the backseat with his duffel. From the awkward looks they cast his way, it was clear whatever went down
was
all about Kyle, and they didn’t want to talk about it if they could get away with it.

Tough.

Taking in the brick wall that was Marcus Gardner, Kyle focused his efforts on Frankie. “Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

Frankie dodged him. “I…ah, will walk you into work. Okay?”

Please work with me on this,
he shot Kyle silently with pleading eyes.

Kyle arched an eyebrow and sent a silent message back.
Okay, but this better be good.

Though Frankie did go with him inside the care center, it took almost five minutes for Kyle to get him through his nest of adoring fans who decided their favorite stylist arriving meant they could get their hair done. When they were finally alone in the break room, Kyle felt like he was ready to explode. “What is going on? What happened? What did I do?”

Frankie looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I don’t know what you did to set him off, but he’s all freaked out. In your defense, it doesn’t take much with Paul. All I know is Arthur called Marcus and begged him to take you off Paul’s hands.”

The awful, heavy feeling settled in Kyle’s gut was so much more than simple embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry.” Frankie didn’t put a hand on Kyle, but he looked like he wanted to. “This is so awkward. I can’t believe I let Marcus make me the yenta.”

“No, that’s Corrina.” Kyle rolled his eyes at himself. “Jesus, she’s going to be a piece of work when she hears about this.”

Frankie frowned. “Corrina?”

Kyle told him about Gabriel hooking him up with Arthur’s mom, about how he’d been following her advice to the letter, and it was working—and then he’d thrown it out the window once he had Paul in bed. Now he was thrown out too.

When Kyle finished, Frankie blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Huh. I can’t decide what’s weirder, Gabriel thinking that was a good idea, or you thinking the reason he freaked out was because you had sex.”

Kyle raised his eyebrows. “You think it was something else?” His heart pinched.
Was it because he’s just not into me?

“I think Paul Jansen is a wonderful man who is more than a little bit messed up in the relationship department.” Frankie leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. “He and Arthur were always an awkward couple, but while Arthur was denying they were in a serious relationship, Paul was the one who
wanted
it to be real but never did anything about it except wish. I’ve watched him date other men for a year, and it’s like he has a checklist to make sure guys are a mess before he’ll take them home. Then he’s upset because he can’t find a boyfriend.”

Kyle bristled on Paul’s behalf. “The dating scene here is abysmal.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but it’s not the whole problem. Gabriel and I plugged Paul into OkCupid and took him for a weekend of speed dating in Minneapolis this summer. Even if you give him a large sample of men, he shoves aside the nice guys and goes in hard for the ones a blind man could see would never work.”

“So you’re saying I won’t work?”

Frankie gave him a withering look. “I’m saying you’re a nice guy. A good guy. Stable, kind, decent with other humans. I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t feel he deserves happiness or if his wiring is screwy on a sub-basement level—but no, I’m not surprised you showed Paul a slice of heaven and he went running.”

Which, actually, made Corrina’s warning make sense. She could have
said
that, dammit. Kyle threw up his hands. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

Frankie lifted his eyebrows, lips twisting into a wry smile. “What do you mean, you don’t know what you’re supposed to do? You get up his nose, is what.”

“He just kicked me out of his house.”

Frankie snorted. “No. He begged his best friends to quietly remove you. Do you have plans to comply?”

Hope bloomed in Kyle, and he smiled. “Frankie, you’re the best thing that ever happened to Logan.”

“You only say that because your hair has never looked better.” His gaze flicked to the top of Kyle’s head. “Which, speaking of, I’ll text you available times I have for a touch-up on those roots.” He pushed off the wall. “I’ll do some recon while you’re at work, and I’ll make sure I’m the one to pick you up at eleven.”

Frankie left, and Kyle was a distracted mess all through his shift. He tried to guess what kind of recon Frankie was doing and wracked his brain to think of how he could fail to go quietly. What he
wanted
to do was storm over to Paul’s house and demand to know what was going on. He didn’t know if that was a good idea or not.

He worried, too, if maybe this was a sign he shouldn’t pursue the man at all. The very idea of Paul deliberately seeking out bad relationships made Kyle’s head spin. Why would anyone do that? How was Kyle supposed to combat it?

He admitted too, as he woolgathered while helping a resident through her sponge bath, a lot of his pursuing Paul had been about chasing an ideal. His worries that he was attracted to Paul based on a fantasy were entirely valid fears. His own conception of who Paul was and what he could be to Kyle wasn’t based on Paul at all, only what Paul could be. Which was…well, juvenile. Maybe he
was
too young to date Paul.

By the time his shift ended, Kyle was a grumpy, self-doubting mess. If it wasn’t drifting so bad in the country, he’d have called his dad for a ride. Instead, when Frankie buzzed in through the door, Kyle got ready to tell him to forget the whole thing. Except before he could, Frankie threw him a curve ball. “Marcus and I think you should confront him. Tonight. Right now.”

“What if he kicks me out, this time in person?”

“That’s not Paul’s style. But if it got awkward, you could call me, and I’d come get you.”

Dizzy with nerves, Kyle followed Frankie out to his car. The wind whipped around them, throwing frozen snow into their faces, making conversation impossible until they were inside the vehicle.

Kyle hunched forward in his seat. “I want to do it, but I’m nervous.” It would suck to be rejected that hard in person. Especially since he was still sore from Paul’s secondhand version.

“You don’t have to, obviously.” Frankie squinted out the window. “You
do
have to make up your mind, though, because I want to get out of this weather as soon as possible.”

Kyle shut his eyes, took in a deep breath and let it out.
What the hell. Might as well make it a fully fucked-up day.
“Drop me off at Paul’s.”

The drive to the duplex was slow and grueling, though the whole experience matched the turbulent emotions Kyle felt inside. What the hell was he supposed to say? Was this smart? Would it be worse to do it now, or later?

He had no idea. For all he imagined himself a confident, sassy queen who loved to break the rules, right now he felt little more than an awkward mess. When Frankie put the car in park in Paul’s drive, Kyle was shaking and almost ready to bail.

He didn’t, though. He grabbed his bag, thanked Frankie, nodded at the wishes for good luck and got out of the car. Then he marched up the stairs, pushed aside the queasy feeling in his gut and knocked on the door.

It took Paul so long to open it, Kyle wasn’t sure he was going to. When he finally did, he turned on the porch light, illuminating Kyle as he stood there in the bitter wind and swirling snow.

Paul shouldn’t have answered the door.

He’d made the decision being with Kyle was a mistake. He knew if he let Kyle stay, they’d have sex again, and God knew what else. Paul wouldn’t want to call it off after another night. Maybe some would see it as cowardly to get Arthur and Marcus to help cut Kyle loose, but it was kinder to everyone in the end. He should stick by his guns and not let Kyle inside, because if he did, all his careful work would fall apart.

But it
was
a blizzard. What if Kyle had walked here? What if his ride had already left?

More important than any other question, and probably the biggest reason Paul opened the door: what if he didn’t find out
why
Kyle had come back?

So he let Kyle in.

Kyle looked angry. And nervous, and hurt. He didn’t say anything at first, only peeled out of his winter gear and hung it neatly on the coat tree by the door, parking his boots on the mat. When he finished, he kept his arms folded and his gaze fixed on the wall.

“That was really shitty, what you did,” he said at last.

Paul didn’t have anything to say in reply, because Kyle was right. It had been shitty, kicking Kyle out without telling him why, without even doing the deed himself. He should apologize, but with Kyle in front of him, calling him on the carpet, all he could do was stand still with his back against the wall by the kitchen and wait to hear what happened next.

What happened was Kyle turned to look at him, all that anger and hurt and confusion aimed at Paul. “I can’t even make sense of the last eighteen hours, can’t decide what I did wrong. Because the last thing I knew, you were having a damn good time.”

Paul stared at Kyle’s feet, unable to meet his gaze. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not you. It’s me.”

“What the
hell
, Paul?” Kyle threw up his hands. “Come on. You’re better than this.”

The truth was, Paul knew he
wasn’t
better than that. And it was the whole reason this had to stop right now.

Kyle paced back and forth in Paul’s living room. “I get that you’re doing whatever you can to drive me off. Probably I should let you, but I can’t.”

He stopped pacing and stood in front of Paul, still not touching him, yet drawing Paul’s attention up like a magnet so he stared into that pretty, intense face.

Kyle made angry gestures which were, technically, quite feminine, and yet everything about him was control and command. “Today sucked. Really sucked. I didn’t even realize how much until I got here and saw you again. And I finally understand if I keep pushing forward, trying to wheedle you into place, the worst thing that might happen is I succeed.” He stopped pacing and aimed all his intensity straight at Paul. “Do you want me here, or not? Do you want me, maybe, but this was too much too fast? Did you fake how much you liked the way I fucked you? Why did you kick me out, and what do you want, or don’t want, from me now?”

Paul admitted to himself how much, despite everything he’d said to Arthur, he wanted to try again with Kyle. Not just sex, but…dating. Kyle. Being with him. Maybe carefully. Or maybe not. Maybe crazily. But that bubble of hope quickly crashed into a sea of self-consciousness and doubt. He couldn’t tell Kyle he wanted him. He couldn’t tell him to go. He couldn’t do anything but stand there, helpless, while Kyle glared expectantly.

Kyle remained tense, but eventually his rigidity began to melt away in a slow thaw. He sighed. “Oh, Paul. What in the world am I going to do with you?”

Paul rounded his shoulders, trying to protect the confused ache in the center of his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Kyle stepped close enough to touch Paul’s hair—a gentle stroke, almost a petting, and it made him burn for more. “Is this really because I’m younger?” His expression tightened. “Or because I’m tall and skinny? Only your type if you close your eyes and pretend I’m Arthur?”

He couldn’t meet Kyle’s hard gaze. “I don’t know why I did it. I…panicked.”

The hand on his hair stilled. “Are you panicking right now?”

Yes? No? Paul didn’t know anymore. He shrugged, but carefully, so he didn’t lose that hand. It dawned on him how ridiculous he was, and he tried to find the words to cut Kyle loose. He deserved better.

Before he could so much as stammer, though, Kyle’s delicate fingers shifted to his chin and tilted it up so Paul had no choice but look him in the eye. What he saw in Kyle arrested him, drowned out the whispers that he should try to drive Kyle away. This look had captivated him this morning when Kyle had rolled over and kissed him. How Kyle had looked when he ordered Paul around the bed. Directed him into the crazy place where it was Paul’s dick in Kyle’s ass, but he still felt like the one getting done.

That, he realized, was what he’d run from. That feeling. The crazy upside-down turning of the world. The way everything kept shifting until Paul was so inside-out he couldn’t do anything but be. Because it was so perfect, so right, it scared him. The realization filled him with shame. When had he become such a mess that getting exactly what he wanted most terrified him enough he tried to send it away?

Kyle teased Paul’s beard and tucked a curling blond hair away from his forehead. “You love it when I take over for you. You need letting go as much as I need taking control.” He kissed the corner of Paul’s mustache, teasing the seam of his lips open with his tongue. “Let me take you, Paul.”

Shuddering, Paul closed his eyes and swayed toward Kyle, turning his face toward that seeking mouth.

Kyle moved away, whispering kisses down Paul’s neck. “There are so many things I want to do to you. Sweet things. Wicked things.” He licked at the pulse of Paul’s neck. “But I can’t do them if you run from me after.”

Kyle’s touch on Paul’s hair became a regretful stroke. Paul chased those fingers. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Kyle pulled his fingers out of reach. “I don’t just want to have sex with you. I want to
date
you. Go out to dinner without the pretense of Winter Wonderland. Go to a movie. Make dinner at your house. Make you socks and hats. Bring you to my house, let you have a meal with my family. Get to know you better.”