A Guy for Christmas - K.C. Wells Page 0,90

as though he hadn’t seen him for weeks.

Dean broke the kiss and laughed. “Okay, if my neighbors didn’t know before that I have a boyfriend, they do now.” He closed the door, then took Robin in his arms. “Let’s try that again.” This time the kiss was more tender.

“Missed you.”

Dean kissed his forehead. “Missed you too.” He glanced at the packages. “Are these for me?”

Robin rolled his eyes. “No, they’re for Lady and Loki.” He bit his lip. “I didn’t get them anything.”

“Trust me, they have plenty. Now take off your coat, let me make some hot chocolate, and then we can exchange gifts.”

“You got something for me?” Robin peered around the hallway.

“Coat first. Then hot chocolate. Then gifts.” Dean glanced at the larger package. “Although I am dying to know what’s in that one.”

Five minutes later they were sitting on the couch. Robin gazed at the large flat package standing beside the Christmas tree. “Is that for me?”

Dean sighed. “You are so impatient. Go for it.”

Robin was off the couch in a heartbeat. He sat on the rug and prized the paper loose with care. What lay beneath stunned him into silence.

“Do you like it?” Dean’s voice held an obvious note of anxiety.

Robin swallowed. “It’s… it’s beautiful.” The portrait was of him and Dean, sitting on the couch, Lady and Loki in their laps. “You did this from memory?” Dean had captured everything: his hair, his lopsided smile, even his favorite cream sweater and black jeans. “Whenever did you find the time?”

“I did it last week.” Dean laughed. “Sleep is for the weak, did no one tell you that?” He got off the couch and joined Robin on the rug. “You really do like it?”

Tears pricked the corners of Robin’s eyes. “No—I love it.” He set it down, before leaning over to kiss Dean. “Thank you.”

Dean rubbed under Robin’s eyes with his thumb, wiping away his tears. “Love you.” Another gentle kiss. Then he grinned. “Now do I get to open mine?”

Robin laughed. “Go for it.”

Dean opened the smaller package first, gasping as he removed the paper. “Oh wow. This is gorgeous. You made this.”

Robin smiled. “I know you already have hooks by the front door, but I thought you might like this.” He’d taken a piece of cherrywood, and screwed five bronze coat hooks into it. The top of the piece was carved with the shapes of two cats, one at each end.

Dean pointed to the smaller cat. “That has to be Loki.” He smiled. “Thank you.” He glanced at Robin. “This isn’t timber from the boatyard, is it?”

Robin chuckled. “I bought it specially last week.” He pointed to the larger package. “That one took less time, believe it or not.”

Dean put down the coat hook rack, and ripped the paper away from the parcel. His breathing hitched. “Oh, Robin.”

“I thought it might go in your hallway, under the coat hook rack.” He’d made a shoe storage bench, with two shelves set into it. The top of the bench had a raised lip around it. “There’s supposed to be a cushion that sits on top, but I didn’t have time to get around to that.”

Dean took Robin’s hands in his. “Such talent.” He kissed each fingertip, and Robin’s heart soared. “Thank you.”

“You can thank me properly upstairs,” Robin said, his pulse speeding up a little.

Dean smiled. “I like the sound of that. I might have another present waiting for you in my bedroom.”

Robin grinned. “Let me guess. Your dick has a bright red bow tied around it.”

“You peeked!” They both laughed. “Well, I tried holly, but that stuff prickles.” Dean got to his feet, pulling Robin with him. “How long do we have?”

“Hours and hours.”

Dean took his hand. “Then let’s not waste a second of it.” He led Robin toward the stairs.

Robin couldn’t think of a more perfect way to spend the day.

Robin carried the dishes through into the kitchen, following Mom. Dad and Dean were talking canoes, so Robin left them to it. Ryan was playing a game on his phone. Robin opened the dishwasher and started loading it.

“Your dad and Dean seem to be getting along,” Mom commented.

Robin smiled to himself. It was a step in the right direction.

“Sweetheart, can we talk?”

Robin paused. “Sure.” He stopped what he was doing and turned to her. “Is anything wrong?”

She sat at the table and indicated a chair. “Come sit for a minute.”

Robin did as instructed, his skin prickling. Uh-oh.

Mom clasped her hands in front of her on the