Christmas Delights 3 (54 page)

 “I have to go,” Dain said and bolted from the table.
Flinging the jangling door open, he raced to his car. Jake called out behind
him and Dain misjudged how quickly the sheriff could move that massive frame. A
hand snagged Dain’s shoulder.
Duh, the man chases criminals for a living.

Wait.” Jake’s face was a swirling mass of unrecognizable
emotions. Dain wanted to stay, but his life was fucked up beyond repair.

Dain shook his head and managed to unlock his car and drive
away with the ghosts of his past hot on his heels.

Chapter Three

Back in his empty apartment, Dain paced, ignoring the bottle
of vodka. His mind overflowed with Jake. Sweet Jake, who was heart and soul and
freedom all wrapped into one honest and caring man. Just sitting across from
Jake had calmed the raging storm inside Dain. He needed more Jake and, like a
moron, he’d ruined any chance of seeing him again.

“Don’t be stupid, Dain.”

Jake could never comprehend Dain’s inability to stand up to
his father, or why he’d stayed with Mick for so long. Dain couldn’t understand
his behavior, so how could Jake? Leaving Jake had been the right thing to do.
Dain needed to make peace with being alone. If he expected it, planned for it,
and tucked his heart away from harm, he’d survive, right? He just had to ignore
that voice in his head warning him of the inevitable soul-shattering collision
with that wall of pain and misery and denial he’d built around himself. Dain
was good at hiding his head in the sand. He would focus on one day or one
hour—or heck, one minute at a time. He could stand anything for a minute, even
holding his breath, because sometimes it was less painful not to breathe. With
that last thought, he sought refuge in his bed and hoped for sleep.

* * * * *

Despite falling asleep after three a.m., Dain rose with the
sun. Jumping in the shower, he quickly washed his bristly hair, his fingers
missing the long silky locks, and then shaved to make sure the goatee that Mick
had wanted never returned. The man staring back from the mirror was a stranger
and a reminder of how different his life had become.

This last week of December was killing him. Dain and his
father had spent past holidays pretending they were a family. Last Christmas,
it was Mick and Dain pretending to be a happy couple. No more pretending for
Dain. Today he started living life based on his reality, where partners and
love didn’t exist.

His first step was to treat Christmas Day like any other
workday and not the heart-breaking holiday it had become. He’d man the IT
helpline, assisting those who’d received computers for gifts and had no idea
how they worked. With a fresh cup of coffee at hand, he logged into his
computer and got to work.

Nonstop calls left little time to think of his father, Mick,
his mother, or his church. That didn’t stop him from obsessing over the burly,
shiny sheriff wrapped tight around his heart. After the umpteenth time of
wishing he’d gone to dinner, and wondering if he could get Jake’s number, Dain
forced himself to face reality. There was no room for his father, the ghost of
Mick
and
Jake in his life. His father’s bigotry and hatred, as well as
the fear Mick had etched deep into Dain, would surely drive Jake away. Maybe
someday...Dain snorted aloud. Yeah, someday when he grew balls and a spine and
stood up for himself.

The house phone rang and Dain tensed. His cousin Penny was
the only person who called that line, but she was in the Caribbean. The
remainder of his family wouldn’t sully themselves to call an immoral sinful
soul such as his. The machine picked up, then the beep...

“Hey Daino boy. How’s my little queer?” his father slurred.
The noise in the background—a bar? On Christmas? “Fucking cock sucker. You hear
that, boys? My kid’s a cocksucker. Gonna burn in hell just like his momma.”
Each word was an iron spike to the heart. Another beep and it was over.

Merry fucking Christmas. A single tear slid down Dain’s
cheek, and with it went his resolve to live without love and companionship and
happiness.

I can’t do this. I can’t live like this anymore.

Dain sat in the silence, ignoring the IT calls. The sunlight
faded and Dain shivered, cold from sitting motionless for so long. Stuck. He
was stuck, unable to go forward or go back.

A knock on the door shifted his heart into overdrive. Shit,
had his father decided a call wasn’t enough? Another knock. The man wouldn’t go
away until he answered. Dain braced for the waiting horrors and pulled the door
open. Every ounce of air in his lungs, the blood in his head, and his ability
to speak fled when he found a smiling Jake on the other side.

“Merry Christmas.”

In uniform, the man was stunning, but now, in a black
leather jacket, white button-up shirt and molded blue jeans, he was a gift, a
fucking gift that Dain couldn’t open and had to return.

 “Jake?”
I’m so glad you’re here.

 “I’m sorry to just show up like this.”

“I’d ask how you knew where I lived but, you know, sheriff
and all.”
I missed your smile and your laugh. Just missed you and how stupid
is that?

Jake grinned and buckled Dain’s knees. “Yeah, I have mad detective
skills.”

With that grin, the remainder of Dain’s vow to accept his
solitary fate faded. The need to pull Jake inside, wrap himself around the
virtual stranger, and never let him go overrode his resolve. But Dain didn’t
let men into his apartment anymore. Dain pulled the door close to his body and
blocked access.

“Why are you here?”
Please say you want me to go with
you. Take me away from this hellhole.

“My sister.”

“Your sister?”

Jake smirked and ran a hand through his gelled curls. “Yeah,
I told my sister about you and she hit me.”

“She hit you?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Smacked me right upside the
head. She’s such a snot. If I don’t bring you back for Christmas dinner...” He
sighed heavily, with pleading eyes. “Save me.”

Dain smirked. “You need me to protect you from your sister?”

Jake guffawed. “I’d need an entire army for that. You’re a
temporary cease-fire.”

A second chance. A second chance at what he’d given up last
night. A tingling started in his belly at the thought of getting out of his
life-sucking apartment and joining the real world. Just dinner.

“Listen, I know I freaked you out last night. I tend to come
on strong because...” Fathomless pain illuminated Jake’s eyes, and his strong
features softened with a vulnerability that squeezed Dain’s gut. “People look
at me and see a big, intimidating, testosterone-filled man and think that’s all
I am. They treat me as if I’m made of stone, unbreakable, untouchable, so I
have to work harder to get them to look past what’s on the outside and see the
real me.”

The real me.
“I’m waiting for someone to see the real
me.”
How many times had Dain prayed for someone to see past his flaws and
fears and cowardice?

Redness rose in Jake’s cheek; his embarrassment made him
more appealing. “A while back, when I was out at the bar, I met someone. We
talked, and then we made out a bit. The way he looked at me, it was like he saw
past what everyone else sees but he disappeared.” He ducked his head. “You kind
of looked at me like that and I couldn’t let that disappear again, so I pushed.
I’m sorry. ”

Dain rubbed at the back of his neck. “It wasn’t anything you
did. My life is messed up, and last night with my father was just the tip of
the iceberg.” The wrecked look on Jake’s face forced Dain to confess. “All day
I regretted not going to dinner. If I’d had your number, I would’ve called to
see if the invitation was still open.”

With an enthusiastic smile, Jake pulled out his wallet and
produced a business card complete with phone numbers and email. “Jackson Ramos.”
Fucking hot.

“Only my grandmother gets to call me that.”

Dain snorted. “Better than my first name.”

“It’s not Dain?”

“It’s Daino. My mother’s maiden name. She was Italian.” The
name meant timid and meek and was a fitting moniker for a coward.

Jake’s eyes widened and Dain swore he saw a brief flash of
recognition but it fled quickly. Licking his lips, Jake said, “Come to dinner.
Just as a friend.”

Dain didn’t want to be friends. He
did
see the real
Jake, open and caring and gentle, everything he’d ever wanted. But the need to
run to Jake and run away at the same time was an internal tug of war that would
eventually tear Dain into tiny, unrecognizable pieces. Maybe that looming crash
was closer than he’d thought. But the expectant, hopeful look on Jake’s face
made Dain want to do anything for the man, even risk his own sanity.

Dain nodded. “I’ll follow you in my car. Let me get my
keys.” Dain also no longer rode in cars with other men. A major amount of
damage could be inflicted in such a small space.

Jake smiled gratefully. “I’ll wait in the lobby.”

Closing the door, Dain drew in several deep breaths. His
heart pounded against his ribs, sweat covered his brow, and the muscles in his
stomach contracted hard enough to push his stomach into his throat. What was he
doing? Less than eight hours and he was stomping on his goal to stay away from
relationships.
Slow down. It’s dinner not a marriage proposal
. A whimper
escaped his throat and yanked Dain’s romantic side right out of the closet with
that thought. Good thing this dinner was taking place with other people. Dain
could make some new friends and further cement his relationship with Jake in
that same realm. Just friends. Shit, who was he trying to kid?

Chapter Four

Dain was stuffed. Jake’s sister Mandy had served a turkey
dinner complete with dressing and side dishes, laid out on a festive table of
reds and greens that had sparked warm memories of his momma’s holiday tables.
Jake and Mandy, her husband Frank, and their three loud, boisterous boys fulfilled
every dream Dain had of a holiday meal. As did the surreptitious brushes with
Jake throughout dinner that tested Dain’s resolve to remain friends. Leave it
to Fate to tap Dain on the shoulder and remind him why they could only be
friends. That first tap had come when Dain met Jake’s sister and had come face
to face with a former coworker. Mandy had also worked for Mick.

“Dain, I didn’t even recognize you,” she’d exclaimed upon
his arrival. “Your hair is so short and your goatee is gone.”

Just as no one knew of the abuse he’d suffered at the hands
of his father, no one knew of Mick’s heavy hand. Dain had seen no indication
that Mandy knew the real events of the night of his accident. Dain would never
tell, and he was sure Mick wasn’t stupid enough to brag. Just as Dain started
to relax, Fate’s next tap turned into a well-placed punch in the gut. 

After dinner, Jake and Frank were assembling the bikes left
by Santa while Mandy was gathering items to take to her in-laws’ house. Being
helpful, Dain was wiping down the counters and stove, working up a good sweat.
Pulling his cap off long enough to cool down, he heard Mandy’s gasp.
Shit.
Dain shoved the cap back on.

“Oh, Dain,” she nearly sobbed. “That scar. I didn’t realize
how badly you were hurt. I tried to call you. I left messages but you didn’t
call back.”

He shrugged to hide his embarrassment. He hadn’t returned
anyone’s calls. “Sorry. But I’m fine. It healed and, except for migraines when
I get stressed out, I’m good. That’s what I get for tripping down the stairs.”
His attempted chuckle failed.

Her silence was foreboding. “He pushed you, didn’t he?” She
said it with such conviction he almost said yes.

 “What? No! It was an accident. I’m clumsy and tripped down
the stairs.” Yeah, tripped backwards, split his head open, and laid unconscious
on the floor, bleeding, until someone had found him. Just a coincidence Mick
had been walking up ahead of him just before his fall
.

Mandy narrowed her eyes. “Mick was so possessive and you
were always hurt. I suspected, but I wasn’t sure until I heard you were in the
hospital. I knew it was Mick, and he had the balls to come in to work and soak
up the sympathy. That was the day I quit that job. ”

God, she knew. His chest tightened. If she’d suspected, who
else...

Dain caught sight of Jake standing in the doorway, pity
marring his features. Dain’s flight reflex kicked in and he tried to push past
the hulking man.

“Don’t run,” Jake said in a low pleading voice. Dain’s cold
hard fear and self-loathing couldn’t compete with those soft and gentle eyes
and he stopped.

Mandy made her exit, yelling it was time to go to Grandma’s.
Within two minutes, the front door slammed shut, and they were alone. 

Jake walked over to the fridge, pulled out two beers, and
handed one to Dain. It was cold and bitter and perfect.

Jake leaned back against the counter and swiped a nervous
hand through his curls. “I know about Mick, and not because Mandy told me. When
you told me your first name today, I remembered seeing it on the investigation
report. That report had caught my eye because at the time Mandy was working for
Mick.”

Dain had told the police he’d lost his balance and fallen
backwards and they’d still investigated. “Why investigate?”

Jake eyed him suspiciously. “A neighbor saw you enter the
building with Mick,
who
also had scratches on his neck and chest that
looked like defensive wounds.”

More like
grabbing-hold-of-anything-before-he-fell-to-his-death wounds. After regaining
consciousness, Mick’s visit had lasted long enough for him to threaten Dain
into silence and fire him from his job. Despite the holes in his memory, he’d
never forget that moment at the top of the stairs with Mick. Dain rubbed at his
scar, fearing another migraine. Turning away, he set the beer down on the
table.