Genre: Holiday Contemporary Erotic Romance
After Ryan lost his wife to cancer, leaving him with three kids to raise on his own, he never thought he'd find any kind of companionship ever again. Especially not with someone like Michael.
The last time Ryan saw his little brother's annoying childhood friend, Michael, he'd been a geeky, pimply-faced thirteen-year-old. That was just before Michael and his family moved to New York.
There was an eight-year age difference between them, and being in college at the time, Ryan had never wanted to waste his breath talking to some immature teenage kid when he could be doing homework or making out with his girlfriend instead.
Sixteen years later, a chance meeting at a coffee shop in Denver changes both of their lives. Michael, recently divorced from his wife, has two kids of his own, and a thriving recording studio.
Michael is no longer the Mikey Ryan remembers.
Getting the whole brood together for a Thanksgiving crafting extravaganza, and their mutual love of the blues cements Ryan and Michael's friendship into something neither one of them could have ever expected. Christmas is fast approaching.
Summer wasn't finished with us yet. The sunbaked blacktop
beneath my feet, pungent from the heat, radiated a steady, scorching warmth up
my body as I crossed the street. It was mid-September, and my position as the
job site safety inspector for Hollins Construction had brought me to Denver,
Colorado, more than forty minutes outside my usual region of Boulder.
The resident inspector in Denver had taken his family on
holiday to Europe, leaving me struggling to cover both his and my territory.
I rolled up the damp sleeves of my white, button-up shirt as
I made my way toward a coffee shop down the road from my last inspection of the
day. My shirt had started the day clean and crisply ironed, but now it was
rumpled and sticking to the small of my back. The clothing we were required to
wear as professionals entering
construction sites was insanely inappropriate for the current weather. We'd
been sweltering in high-eighty-degree heat for weeks.
The handle of the coffee shop's door felt cooler than the
surrounding air as I gripped it and pulled it open. I was welcomed by a gust of
what felt like an arctic breeze, in contrast to the air outside. I took a deep
breath of it, inhaling relief from the heat and a pleasant assault of freshly
brewed coffee and cinnamon buns.
If I didn't have other commitments, there was every chance I
wouldn't have left this coffee shop any time soon. I looked back across the
street at my car. I'd left the inspection reports I needed to complete by the
end of the day lying on the passenger
seat.
Later.
I'd head back out to the car to retrieve them once my body
had cooled enough to brave the heat again.
The young, pink-haired woman behind the counter caught my
attention by clearing her throat and greeting me as Sir. I'd reached the front of the line, but my mind had wandered. I
was thinking about the long drive home to Longmont, realizing it would be late
by the time I arrived.
I'd need to call my sister and ask her to pick up the kids
from the after-school babysitter's—again. She wouldn't be pleased. She'd picked
them up twice already this week. Luckily, today was Friday, meaning I'd be home
for the next two days, relieving my sister, Janice, of her Auntie duties—favors
actually… in other words, her continual saving of my ass.
I perused the board of coffee options and decided on
something cold.
"Mocha Frappuccino, please," I said as I opened my
wallet and peered inside, not sure if I should use my debit or credit card. I
had no idea how much money was in my bank account. The kids had needed new
clothes and a ridiculous amount of school supplies for back to school last month. Taylor, my eldest son, aged eleven, had
been the most troublesome in the clothes shopping mayhem. He'd insisted the
other two, Cindy aged eight, and Marcus aged five be left at home—with my
sister while I'd taken Taylor out on his own.
Thankfully, she'd agreed …again.
"Your name?" The bubbly female voice tugged me
away from my wandering mind again.
"Sorry. It's Ryan." I removed the solitary credit
card from my wallet. I didn't like using it for anything other than business
expenses, but there was no sense in taking the risk of having my debit card
declined. I'd never been this short of money before, aside from my college
years. But everything was different now. I had mortgage payments, medical
insurance, orthodontics, baseball, karate, ballet lessons—and a ton of other
expenses to cover. Being a parent was expensive, and without my wife's income,
I was struggling.
I wandered to the end of the counter to wait for the barista
to complete what I hoped would be a drink capable of chilling my insides, matching
the gradual cooling of my skin.
"Ryan?" A voice behind me had me turning around. I
wasn't sure if I'd misheard my name being called. I didn't know anyone this far
from home, and I didn't recognize the well-groomed, dark-haired man approaching
me; the cosmopolitan style of his clothing throwing me off even further. Bare
feet in white sneakers, torn couture jeans with silver wallet chain, black and
white striped shirt, and tailored suit jacket. People didn't typically dress
like that in Denver.
"Ryan Middleton?" The man reached out to shake my
hand, grinning as if greeting a life-long friend, his neatly trimmed beard
accentuating his lips launching to speak before I'd had an opportunity to
reply. "What are the chances? I haven't seen you since …I was like, what
…thirteen? I just moved back here last week, and here you are."
He clapped his hands together after releasing my reluctant grip.
I had no idea who this guy was. The handshake had been awkward, but he'd persisted
undeterred. "Did you move out this way?" he continued. "I
thought for sure you'd stay in Longmont. You never struck me as a big city guy.
What about your parents? I sure miss them …Bill and Evelyn. Your mom was always
such a riot." He sighed and laughed softly, shaking his head. "Sam
and I used to drive her insane."
A drop of ice-cold condensation ran down my arm from where I
was holding my plastic cup full of reprieve from the heat. The straw had yet to
find its way to my mouth. How could this guy possibly know so much about my
family when I had no idea who he was?
"I'm sorry, I don't think …," I stammered.
"Oh man, you have no idea who I am, do you?" His
neck flushed red, spreading right the way up to his cheeks. "Of course,
you don't. The aged thirteen thing since I saw you last…." He
extended his hand again. "Michael Sanderson. I was a friend of your
brother's."
"Mikey?" I clapped my hand into his, laughing.
I'll be damned.
It was no wonder I didn't recognize him. The annoying,
scrawny, pimple-faced teen, the kid who always asked way too many questions,
ate all the M&Ms out of the mixed nuts, and borrowed video games out of my
room without asking, was standing before me, unrecognizable.
Well, almost unrecognizable. Now that I knew who he was, his animated expression, intense green eyes, and habit of speaking way too fast confirmed his identity. Michael had been my younger brother, Sam's best friend for years. His family had moved away partway through their junior year. I'd been twenty-one at the time, busy at college and all that went with it, reading, studying, …and spending time with my girlfriend, Rebecca.
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