Christmas Angel

Chapter 1-2

“Too hot.” Brian joined Dean on the back step.

Dean nodded. Although unwise to stay outside for long without a coat in early December, with the oven on and pans steaming away—and acting as a spare part in the proceedings—he’d come out to sit on the steps for much-needed air. He swigged from the one and only bottle of lite beer he would drink.

Brian settled beside him, with what had to be a real beer in hand in a tall glass. Silence persisted for several seconds, stretching out into minutes. What to discuss? They’d exhausted the topic of the car. The garden, though kept well, appeared cut back and bedded for winter. Besides, Dean knew little of plants, struggled to tell a rose from an aspidistra. A few weeds persisted on battling through the patchy lawn and, as few of the shrubs were evergreen, bare branches stuck up out of the soil resembling broken bones.

“So…you’re bisexual?”

Dean choked. Beer frothed and bubbled in his throat before he swallowed. None shot up the back of his nose, although the escape was narrow. Few people surprised him. Whatever he thought of April’s new beau, Dean hadn’t expected him to be so forthright. He shook his head, causing Brian to frown, so Dean shook his head again, no way clarifying. He intended neither headshake as an answer to Brian’s question. Why should he? His sexuality wasn’t anyone’s business.

Damn, but things had gone well. Now it appeared April’s latest conquest would end up being as big a d**k as the others had. Ironic so many called Dean the same thing, not for reasons complementary. He might consider this a payback if April weren’t the one who always ended up with emotionally empty pockets.

“Sorry.” Brian raised the glass to his lips and drank. “I must have my wires crossed. Just April…” He shrugged, small twitches of emotion erupting over his face.

What was the look? Embarrassment? Puzzlement? Hard to tell. Brian glanced over his shoulder back into the house, no doubt searching for April.

“What did she say?” Intuition sparking, Dean asked the most logical question.

The other man now shook his head, gaze sliding away as if he’d prefer not to answer. To hell with that. There were ways to intimidate, several subtle, many not so. Often, all Dean needed to extract information was to use a particular expression. He put one on his face now, squaring his shoulders. Size had much to do with manipulation, even when he didn’t intend to follow through.

“Nothing.” Despite the warmth projected into his voice, Brian shifted, knees swaying, upper body hunched. “Just April being silly.”

Dean said nothing, kept staring, although he took time and pleasure imagining April’s reaction if she heard Brian refer to her as silly. No point his allowing any of that to show in his expression. Best to keep his jaw set, fight the rising smile, keep his gaze hard, but the struggle was real. He didn’t want to make Brian feel awkward—the guy came across as an okay sort and, with luck, would stick around—but Dean required an answer not entirely born out of his egocentric nature.

What did April have to moan about now? If trouble brewed, he needed to find out, for Jay’s sake as much as his own. To uncover the truth, he’d stare Brian into the next century if need be. He might as well try prompting though.

“She’s said plenty of things to my face. I wouldn’t worry. Whatever you tell me I’ve no doubt heard.”

Brian’s lips twisted, and another short time passed, before he said, “She seemed surprised over how long you’ve been together.”

The man fiddled with his glass, tipping it in one direction and then the other, so the amber liquid caught the light. Under Dean’s continued stare, the man’s behaviour became twitchy, erratic, as if he didn’t know how to behave, what to do with his whole body, let alone his hands. Dean tried to keep his tone level, but doing so meant his voice emerged from between teeth slightly parted, his jaw tight. He practically snarled, “It’s as good as three years.”

Officially, that was one Christmas over three years before, discounting a few months when no one knew. This was their fourth—the last three spent living together and the festivities celebrated with both sets of parents, alternating Christmas and Boxing Day if Dean’s parents were home. He and April…Well, things remained strained between them at times, but he had thought he’d put her doubts to rest.

“Oh.” Brian blinked several times. “I didn’t realise.” He peeped over his shoulder before facing forward again. “Sorry. She meant nothing, I’m sure. I was…surprised…” He shook his head, glanced in Dean’s direction, as fast away. A garden ornament of a damaged and now three-legged tortoise stole Brian’s attention. He gestured to it. “Should I take it in for surgery, do you think?” The attempted grin fell away with another glance. “Never mind. I didn’t mean to stir.”

How long would it take before Dean could read this man? His expressions ran all over. Was he apologetic? Ill?

“I thought little of it until I arrived. Now…” Again with a shrug. “I’m…more than surprised. From what I’ve seen, you and Jay are well matched. I’m guessing April’s worried about the…the bisexual aspect.”

Was Brian now quizzing him? That was a turn-up. Spying? For April? Could be, but if so, indirectly. If April wanted information, she wouldn’t send Brian. She wouldn’t send anyone. She would reach for the nearest sharp object and demand.

More likely, Brian tried to work through this. The man made excuses for April, maybe wanting to bring peace, apologise in a roundabout way for being nosey. As one often unable to apologise, Dean forgave him and relaxed.

“Don’t worry. I’m used to April’s opinion of me. I won’t make trouble. Besides,” he gave a jerk of his head back to the house, “it’s coming up to Christmas. I won’t spoil things.”

Brian looked relieved. “Still sorry. I wasn’t aware you and April have problems. We’ve only been going out a few months.” He made the time sound both wondrous and no time at all.

A few months…and now Dean had given Brian something to figure out—the puzzling woman the man dated. Dean, at last, recognised a few of the man’s reactions because the moment Brian’s concern shifted to April’s motivations, it spelled itself out across his wrinkled brow, his pinched lips. Had Dean caused the couple trouble? His conscience prodded. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t understand what I am. I dated women before Jay. Didn’t know…I felt that way.” Dean stared at the ground. Took a swig of beer. Not true—not the whole truth—but close. He waited for Brian to fidget, develop the ‘I would rather be anywhere but here’ expression. He didn’t.

“She said you’ve been friends since you were kids?”

Dean nodded. “She was the girl next door. Puppy love on my part and not much of that.”

Fibber.

He gave Brian a small smile, making light of it, not mentioning the way his young heart had ached. When a flash of shock came over Brian’s face, Dean shook his head, fast. Christ. The man hadn’t known. How many more things could Dean say wrong in the span of one morning?

He took another swallow, emptying the bottle. Brian had drained his glass.

“Was never going to happen. Never did.”

Well, that was awkward to say. His wanting to treat the situation as unimportant only drew attention. Funny thing, kids growing up so close. Dean could have almost been a third sibling if things had gone a different way. Might sound creepy to someone unaware of their shared history. School together. Homework together. Weekends. A few holidays. Jay’s parents had taken Dean on a camping trip once. Did Jay remember? Dean couldn’t recall much of the trip. Swimming—he remembered, along with walking, and climbing, and fishing. Pushing April over in the stream in a boyish tantrum akin to pulling the pigtails of a girl he liked: love portrayed by violence. He might have coloured April’s view of him from the beginning.

Dean spent a few moments considering before he noticed Brian grimacing into his glass. “What?”

Again, Brian shook his head.

“You’ll tick me off if you have a penchant for going silent.”

Brian’s stare widened. His lips twitched and his expression broke, becoming gentle. “Fair enough. I never believed the ‘gay for you’ thing.”

“The…?” What?

“Gay for a particular someone. That’s saying a gay man can turn straight if he finds the right woman. Most people…there’s an inkling.”

There had been. Dean had always made light of it. If his past troubled April so much after this measure of time…he supposed he understood.

“Well, I saw things. Never took part.”

What a thing to say. Why add that? Now, Dean felt embarrassed. He would not mention he had once written a gay series of detective novels—or rather a detective series where his main character was gay—because he didn’t do it now. He still wrote, but he wanted to venture into something more mainstream under his own name. With his first books, he’d made the character gay because it fitted the plot. Any other motives escaped his awareness, so no way to be sure. He assigned everything he read or watched to research.

He sat thinking and, while he did, Brian studied him, Dean trying not to squirm under the scrutiny.

“I don’t know. I guess there were signs. I never wanted a man before him. Not in a clear way. I’m not sure I can say I’m gay, though.” Heat flooded Dean’s face. “Well…I must be. I mean I’m not sure what label to put on my feelings. Not given it much thought. We’re doing okay, so why bother?”

Brian stared out across the garden though, this time, he didn’t appear to focus on any one thing.

“You say you don’t understand what you are?”

Where was Brian going with this? Why? “Yes.” Simplifying, though a good enough way to express his feelings.

“But you love Jay?”

“Yes.”

“And you still find you’re attracted to women though you’ve done nothing about the attraction?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot with you, or any of the family, but sounds bisexual to me.”

You got no idea what you’re saying. The thought flashed through Dean’s mind; the urge to argue winking out as fast. Accompanying anger—if it was what he felt—a momentary spark extinguished faster than it flared. Dean didn’t want to discuss this. Yet, he did. Brian was easy to talk with. He had a calm manner, a sparkling, dancing gaze, and a warm smile. A decided and refreshing lack of hostility left Dean open and receptive.

Dean’s emotions…He wouldn’t want April to know, but sometimes, his own thoughts still troubled him. He didn’t doubt his love for Jay, determined to stay faithful, but what others thought of him, and why, gave Dean reason enough to question his own vows, though he didn’t do so much anymore.

When Brian opened his mouth again, his words echoed Dean’s thoughts and gave him a real shiver.

“I’m not saying April is right. I’m not saying let her upset you.”

Dean needed a moment to work out the awkward phrasing. There had to be a but coming. Sure enough.

“But I can see where she may have a point. Where she’s coming from, at least. You’re known as a womaniser, right?”

Dean nodded, staring ahead. Shook his head. “I was.”

“And you’ve never…been with another man? Other than Jay, I mean.”

This time the phrasing showed, for all his forthrightness, Brian appeared self-conscious. Good. Nevertheless, Dean answered. “No. I…saw a few things.”

“I take it you don’t mean porn?”

How much of this would get back to April? Dean hesitated before he gave a terse nod. “No doubt April would say it had turned me gay, or this started with me acting out a fantasy with Jay.”

Brian snorted, which helped to warm Dean to him again.

“I don’t believe in such things. You can’t ‘turn’ someone gay and the acting out of a fantasy doesn’t take over three years. But as to my point…”

The guy had one?

“Even you can see how people might react. A well-known womaniser entering a gay relationship. From what April tells me, and what I heard today, you’re a little confused yourself. Nothing you’ve told me yet suggests otherwise.”

Confused? Yes, sometimes. Dean gave Brian another nod, this one slower, more accepting. Fine. He’d listen but that didn’t mean he had to join in or to agree.

“Ever thought of talking to someone?”

Dean almost barked out a laugh. “I’m not going to any shrink.”

“Not a psychiatrist. A counsellor.”

“Same thing.”

“Similar.

“Semantics.”

“Big word.”

The two men laughed.

“Good to see you two getting along.” April emerged from the kitchen to stand in the back doorway. Despite sounding happy, April’s expression struck Dean as full of suspicion, though it might be his own reservations doing his judging for him.

“Care to toddle to the dining room? We’ll serve dinner soon.”

“Be right there, sweetheart.”

“Smart arse,” came her reply as she headed back inside.

“True love.” Brian grinned.

Possible. He showed every sign of being much in love. April might have a good one this time…even if Brian was somewhat forward. This, a first meeting and all. What was his motivation? Could be April hadn’t accepted Dean, pretended to do so. Something had to fuel Brian’s reaction. About what and how much had she complained?

“Here.” Brian handed Dean his empty glass, freeing his hands to dig out his wallet. He extracted a business card, plain white, black curly writing with a touch of red. A name and the word therapist caught Dean’s eye.

Good thing Dean held a glass object in each hand. The only violence possible was to shatter one or both, cut up his hands. Despite the caution, his grip tightened. Brian slipped the card into Dean’s shirt pocket.

“She’s a counsellor. A good one.”

“Yours?” Dean curbed the acidic bite of venom the word brought to his tongue. He painted a curl on his lips.

Brian grinned at the question as he took back his glass, Dean letting go as if it grew hot. Maybe it did, owing to the heat of his boiling blood.

“No. Our paths crossed, and it turns out she helped a relative of mine. And before you ask, we’re not friends. Anything you say to her would be confidential even if we were. I’ll tell her you might call.”

“You on commission?” Dean couldn’t help it. He recognised the indicative signs of his emotions spinning into seriously pissed off. If Brian’s reaction was any way to judge, the man noticed. Brian froze, thoughts appearing to flit as winged mammals in the depths of his eyes.

“Sorry. Again. Getting to be a habit. I only thought…” He shook his head. “You’re right. Not my business. Give it consideration…or don’t. Tear up the card. I…like you both. I know how April can be. I want her to be wrong.”

“She is.”

“I’m glad.” Brian gave him a smile that showed he believed him…but only ninety, maybe ninety-five percent.

By an unspoken decision, the two men rose and went into dinner, Brian leading. They made their way across the deck to the back door, Dean giving Brian’s back a dark stare.