Chapter 1

He was finally home. It seemed like Oliver had been waiting for years for his husband Wyatt to get back, but it had only been a day. When it was just him and the muttering horde of memories and dreams scrambling around within his skull, every day seemed like a life sentence to Oliver McKinsey.

Just seeing Wyatt hurrying up the walkway, his coat clutched tight to his lean frame, made Oliver release the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding all day.

“Hey, baby!” Oliver said as he yanked open their front door, jostling the Christmas lights arranged on the inside of its central glass panel. It was a bit early for them, but festive holiday decorations always cheered him up. “How’d it go?”

Oliver stood aside as Wyatt rushed inside bringing a bitter blast of cold air inside with him. He was sure Wyatt hadn’t seen that he was leaning in for a welcoming kiss and hurried to catch up to his husband who had already made it into the kitchen.

“I asked how it went.”

“Oh, shit. It was a total disaster.” Wyatt pulled off his hat and gloves and threw them onto the island next to the small cardboard box he’d brought in with him. “The lines were out the door all day. Fucking Randy was no help. I mean, seriously. How many smoke breaks can one person take?”

After absentmindedly peeking into the box, Oliver said, “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Not to mention the goddamned chaffing dishes burned the bottoms layer of, like, every freaking thing. We could only serve the top bits of mashed potatoes or mac ‘n cheese or whatever. That made twice the work.”

“Yikes. That had to be frustrating.”

Wyatt opened the refrigerator and drained an entire bottle of water before reaching in for another. “I told Danielle that we needed a more professional setup. That disposable, easy cleanup shit is not going to cut it for Christmas. Do you think that restaurant supply house will have, like, Black Friday deals or something? Fuck, my feet are killing me.”

“I didn’t do much today. Just hung out, really. I tried calling you once or twice. Well, four times, really.”

“I forgot to mention the floors!” Wyatt flung his arms into the air before striding over to the oven and setting it to preheat. “They were a wet muddy mess. I was scared shitless someone was going to bust their ass all day. I asked Andrew to mop it seemed like every ten seconds. Of course he was too busy talking to Andrea to notice on his own.”

“Old Mrs. Wallace got arrested today,” Oliver said. “Triple homicide. A real tragedy. They’re still not sure who’s going to take care of her herd of Velociraptors. And the holidays are always so rough for dinosaurs in general. Poor things.”

“I hope you’re okay with ham,” Wyatt said. “We didn’t have much turkey left. There were lots of vegetables left and some sides. I’m just going to heat it all up at once. Is that cool?” Wyatt didn’t even look in Oliver’s direction to see if, in fact, it was cool or not.

It wasn’t even fun for Oliver to make up ridiculous stories to see if Wyatt was paying attention. He wasn’t. He hadn’t been for a long time. Oliver sighed and looked out the window at the snow that had begun to drift down in huge fat flakes that were quickly accumulating. He couldn’t be mad at Wyatt. It was his own fault, after all. “It’s snowing.”

“I’m going to take a fast shower while the oven heats up.” Wyatt kicked off his shoes and began to unbutton his shirt as he headed toward the bathroom. “Can you pop that stuff into the oven for me? Hey look, it’s snowing!”

Oliver watched Wyatt retreat down the hall and stared once he’d disappeared from sight. They oven’s gentle beep pulled him from him haze. He rooted through the box and decided he would warm the ham in the oven, but the sides he’d put into their own pots to be warmed, seasoned, and embellished to elevate them from Thanksgiving food served to the poor and underprivileged of Parke County to a romantic meal for two men to share.

The food had been plated and Oliver even had time to light a couple of candles before Wyatt finally emerged still towel drying his hair. “Oh, man. That smells amazing.” Wyatt bent to brush a kiss across Oliver’s stubble-covered cheek. “Sorry I was so distracted when I got home. You know how this time of year is for me.”

Oliver nodded his head and blushed. “S’okay.”

“Now what were you saying about Old Mrs. Wallace? Did you two hang out today or something?”

“Something like that.”

Wyatt smiled and winked while shoveling food into his mouth. Oliver wondered if he even had time to taste the fresh garlic he’d added to the mashed potatoes or the glaze he’d made from the cranberry sauce for the ham. After quietly eating for a few minutes, he said, “I think I’m going outside.”

“What?” Wyatt wiped at the corners of his mouth. “It’s fucking freezing out there.”

“I know. You just don’t get snow like this every day. I’m going to enjoy it.” Oliver carried his plate to the sink and strode over to the hall closet. His heavy jacket was easy to find, but locating his snow boots took a bit of poking around.