Chapter 1

The first thing that hit me as I stepped outside the airport was the heat. It was close to Christmas, yet the sun blazed as the temperatures rose close to ninety. Being from Chicago, I wasn’t used to this kind of weather. When I left, it was around thirty degrees and was set to drop even farther. Here in the south Texas town of Puntos del Rey, the opposite was happening. It was kind of odd that a three hour some flight could make such a difference.

However, even with the heat, I was glad to be anywhere but home. Last Christmas I caught my ex, Archie, in bed with someone else. I was actually going home so I could hide his gift, but he had decided to treat himself to a different one. One that he had been enjoying since May. I had managed to drown myself in work, but even I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get through the holidays if I stayed in town. That’s why, when the opportunity for my next documentary came up, I jumped on it quickly.

I was there to film one of the town’s local Posadas, a re-enactment of Joseph and Mary’s search for lodging in Bethlehem. Recently there was some controversy about how exclusive the local Catholic Church was becoming, even more so than usual. The new priest prohibited gay people from taking part in any kind of celebration. As a response, a more progressive church was doing their own.

I got a tip from a friend about it and was intrigued. Not only by the sight of people recreating the procession of Mary and Joseph as they looked for an inn, but because it was a part of my culture that I never participated in. My parents weren’t really connected to our Mexican heritage, which meant that I was flying blind when it came to lots of things.

As I got older, I decided that I would do my best to connect to my roots. This seemed like a good way to take things one step further.

“Jesús Mendoza,” a voice said from behind me.

“Yeah, that’s—” I was about to answer, but stopped short. It was impossible to form a sentence with that adorable teddy bear standing right in front of me. He was around my age, about twenty-five or twenty-six, and had the kind of build I loved; big shoulders, a little bit of belly, and cheeks that you just had to pinch. But what really got me were the dimples. He would probably be cute without them, but with them, he was irresistible.

“Frank Villalobos.” Frank extended his large hand towards me. I know I shouldn’t have, but as I reached for it, I also snuck a peek at his feet, which were big as well. My mind would normally go straight to the gutter, but I didn’t want to get all hot and bothered with Frank. I just met him and didn’t even know if he was interested in guys.

“Nice to meet you. So, you are the one Father Ortiz sent to help me out.”

“Sure am,” Frank said with a smile. Damn, he was hot. “How about we take you to where you’ll be staying, then we can head out to the church?”

“Sounds good. A little freshening up would be nice.”

“Great. Let me take your bags.” Handsome and a gentleman, that was the kind of man I could really go far. I followed Frank to his car, doing my best not to stare at his broad shoulders and ample bubble butt. But if I had to tell the truth, I didn’t do too good of a job. I couldn’t help wondering if the hair on his legs signaled chest hair, which always drove me crazy. I was just praying that he wouldn’t notice me looking him over.

* * * *

“Nice place. Who does it belong to?” I asked as we pulled into a driveway. I was a bit hesitant to stay in someone’s house, especially someone I didn’t know. But I had to admit that this small one-story home had a charm to it that I hadn’t seen in a while. It was a bit strange, though, to see Christmas lights and decorations on a house without the surrounding snow. I looked around the neighborhood, and almost every house had some. I couldn’t wait for night time, when everything would be all lit up.

“Yours truly,” Frank replied. I’m not sure why, but the thought of staying in the same house as Frank made me nervous.

“Nice.” I tried to hide my anxiety as best I could. Hopefully he didn’t pick up on it. “Do you live here with your wife?”

“I’m not married. This place is all mine. It used to belong to my grandparents. My abuelagave it to me after my grandfather died, and she found a smaller place. Gave it a little facelift and made it my own.” Not married. For some reason that made me even more nervous than I was before. Not that I anticipated anything to happen or was unable to control myself, but the fact that I was so attracted to him made me think that I would sneak some occasional looks and eventually get caught.