A Guy for Christmas - K.C. Wells Page 0,53
wondering if you’d like to help me make cookies this weekend.”
Okay, he hadn’t expected that. “Really?”
“Hey, this is a big deal. I was going to make Christmas cookies for the teachers this Saturday. There’s a competition—well, not really a competition. Every year we make cookies for each other, but what it boils down to is whose cookies are the most popular.”
“And you thought I might be your secret weapon? How do you know if I’m any good at baking?”
“Oh, I’ll bake them,” Dean assured him. “Where you come in, is helping me decide how to decorate them. I thought that might be right up your street.”
That sounded like it could be a lot of fun. “I might be up for that.”
“I also had another idea.”
Robin glanced toward the boatyard, making sure his dad was nowhere in sight. “Does it involve smearing cookie dough on my nipples and my dick, and you licking it off?” he whispered.
There was a pause. “You are a wicked man. I’m sitting here in my classroom with a hard-on. And that is plain wrong.”
Robin burst out laughing. “What was your idea?”
“Saturday morning, would you like to go skiing?” Another pause. “I thought it would be good for the pair of us to hit the slopes again. It wouldn’t be like the last time.”
Robin considered the idea. There would be no subterfuge, no playacting, simply the two of them pitting themselves against the slopes, pushing each other, and enjoying the hell out of it. “I think that sounds like a great idea.”
“Excellent. So, a morning of skiing and an afternoon baking cookies. Sounds like a perfect day.”
Robin chuckled. “No, for it to be perfect, there’d have to be some naked time in there as well.” When Dean fell silent, he added, “Hey, you said I was to voice my needs, right? Well, this is me voicing them.”
“Did you forget the part where I said I’m in my classroom? I’m ending this call now.” He paused. “I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
“Okay.” It was time to go indoors anyway. Robin’s nuts were about to freeze. “Later.”
“I look forward to that.” In the background, a bell rang.
Robin grinned. “I’d stay behind your desk if I were you, when your students walk in.”
“You are evil personified.” Dean disconnected the call.
Robin was still chuckling to himself when he got back inside. He walked through the empty office and into the area where he worked on the boats. Dad was looking closely at the gunwale he’d been working on that morning.
“Hey. Is anything wrong?”
Dad glanced across at him. “I was only checking it.”
Robin stared at him. “You haven’t done that for a while.” Unease trickled through him.
“Yeah, well, up till now I haven’t needed to.” Dad straightened. “I don’t know where your head is right now, but I don’t think it’s on your work.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that gunwale,” Robin remonstrated.
“Apart from the fact that it’s taken you longer than usual to make it,” Dad fired back at him. He gazed intently Robin. “Is there something you want to talk about?”
Not with you. “Not really.” His stomach clenched.
Dad pushed out a heavy sigh. “You don’t think your old man can relate, is that it?”
“Excuse me?”
“I remember being your age, you know. It feels like your hormones won’t quit.”
Robin did not want to be having this conversation. “Dad…”
His dad waved a hand. “It’s okay, I get it. I wouldn’t have wanted to talk with my dad either about… you know. And it doesn’t matter that you’re gay. The process is still the same, right?”
“Process?” Robin felt like he wanted to throw up. Please tell me he’s not talking about sex. That would really have been a first.
“Being interested in someone, being attracted, those first steps…”
Robin was almost giddy with relief. “Oh. Yeah. Right.” If only you knew, Dad.
“I just want you to know… If you do need to talk, I’m here for you.”
Robin forced a smile. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.” Not that he had any intention of discussing anything to do with Dean with his dad.
“Then I’ll let you get back to work. I’ll give you a shout when the timber delivery gets here.” Dad disappeared into the office.
Robin pulled his phone from his pocket, until he remembered Dean had a class. There was no way he was going to make it to Saturday without seeing Dean. He composed a text.
Can I come over tonight?
He didn’t expect a reply. He’d have to wait until school was out for that.
Robin suspected his day