Whisky Christmas Read online

  Holden:

  All I want for Christmas is to give Gage a birthday to remember. With his big day falling on December 23rd, he always seems to get lost in the holiday shuffle, so throwing him the best surprise party Sawyer's Ferry has ever seen is a no-brainer.

  But even with weeks of careful preparation and help from Frankie on all things party-related, sometimes things don't go exactly according to plan.

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  Published by Cate Ashwood

  Whisky Christmas: A Sawyer’s Ferry Short © 2018 Cate Ashwood

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  All rights reserved worldwide. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

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  Cover Design © 2018 Cate Ashwood

  http://www.cateashwooddesigns.com

  Edited by One Love Editing

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  Content Warning: This work is classified as a gay romance. It contains graphic language and sexual content between two adult men. Not intended for anyone under the age of 18.

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  Title

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Other Books by Cate

  About the Author

  A huge thank you to Sandra, my lifesaver. How many times have you saved my ass now? Too many to count, probably. Seriously, though. You are one of the very best people I know, and I’m grateful to call you my editor, but even more, my friend.

  [insert heart eyes emoji here]

  “Thank Christ you called me when you did.” Frankie shook his head, his movement lagging a bit over his cousin’s shitty internet connection.

  I leaned in closer to the camera, as though that might somehow convey just how desperate I was. “You don’t have to tell me that. There are two weeks left and I haven’t had time to get any plans in place. I’m scrambling.”

  “Just cancel it. If you don’t have time to make it fucking fabulous, it’s not worth doing—and I have my doubts that anything in that town could be fucking fabulous.”

  “I can’t cancel it.”

  “You haven’t invited anyone yet,” he pointed out.

  I sighed, trying to think of a way to make Frankie understand how important this was to me. “I don’t mean canceling would be difficult logistically. I mean I’m not willing to do that. Gage’s birthday falling the day before Christmas Eve… he’s never had a proper celebration.”

  “He’s a grown-ass man. He doesn’t need funfetti cake and party hats.”

  I laughed. “Coming from the guy who baked a funfetti cake for his own half-birthday…”

  Frankie grinned, but his tone turned serious. “Yeah, but you know Gage. You know he’s not the type of guy for revelry and festivity. He’s the kind of guy who grumbles about Karen in accounting bringing cupcakes in for no reason.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he had, in fact, mentioned something about the food waste from the last staff party we’d had.

  “He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

  “Judging from your plans, he never will.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve been living in Buttfuck Frozen Nowhere for way too long if you think some bullshit game night out at your secluded—and probably haunted—house makes for an entertaining party.”

  “Excuse me, but we had everyone out for Thanksgiving and that was a total success.”

  “Except for the part where you caused the dissolution of a relationship.”

  “That had nothing to do with me. And it was temporary. Jackson and Logan are doing great.”

  “So fucking glad to hear it.”

  It was barely there, but I’d known Frankie long enough that I could detect the slight bitterness, and I couldn’t help but feel for him. I knew how lonely he was, that his life was nothing more than passing time through empty days—temp jobs and temp housing.

  Nothing in his life was permanent, and once upon a time he probably would have preferred it that way, but Frankie had changed since I’d met him. The difference was subtle, but it was there. I wasn’t sure he was the kind of guy who wanted to settle down, but I had been just like him until Gage had walked into my life—or I had walked into his.

  Not for the first time, I began to make a mental inventory of all the gay and eligible men I knew. Since I’d abandoned life in New York, I didn’t know anyone there anymore, and the list of guys in Sawyer’s Ferry was practically nonexistent.

  “You are so goddamn lucky I’m your friend,” Frankie said, breaking me out of my mental matchmaking as he squared his shoulders and sat up a little straighter. “I am going to save this party for you.”

  “Eternally fortunate,” I said. I might have sounded sarcastic, but when it came to friendships, there wasn’t anybody better than Frankie. He’d supported me through some pretty crazy shit in our tenure as buddies. “You sure you can’t make it out for the party?”

  “Is there a less offensive way to say ‘I’d rather insert my dick into Gia’s Vitamix than spend time in Sawyer’s Ferry’?”

  “I don’t think Gia would be all that happy to have dick chunks in her green smoothies.” I cringed. “I’m getting you out here one day, though. Mark my words.”

  “I ain’t marking shit, Prescott.”

  I frowned. “We’ll see. For now, I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with the experience of your heavy sarcasm from a distance.”

  “I do what I can,” Frankie said. “And what I can do is tell you to scrap the idea of having it at your place.”

  “But—”

  “For starters, unless that small party includes a bowl of keys or a treasure chest full of sex toys, no one wants to be at that party.”

  I rolled my eyes, and he rolled his right back. “So what do you suggest, then?”

  “If you want this to be an event to remember, you’re going to have to think a little bigger. You need a venue. And booze. Lots of booze.”

  I thought for a second. There weren’t a lot of places in town that would work. “I could talk to Jane about having it at Whisky J’s.”

  “The best bar there, right?”

  “The only bar here,” I confirmed. “But surprisingly decent.”

  “It’ll have to do. Better than having it at some fucking legion hall or something like he’s a fucking retiree… though… that might be fitting. He is getting up there in years.”

  “He’d kill you if he heard you say that.”

  “Is he wearing those supportive briefs yet that keep his balls from drooping to his knees? If not, that might be a good option for a gift.”

  “Great idea. I’ll tell him they’re from you.”

  Frankie cackled. “Perfect
. He can think of me every time the fabric shifts and rubs against his dick.”

  I ignored the last comment. “I’m going to head into town this afternoon. I’ll talk to Jane and see if she’ll let us host the party at J’s.”

  “And let her know you’ll be needing at least one signature cocktail.”

  I tried to imagine Gage sipping some fruity, rainbow garnished drink, but I just couldn’t see it.

  “We’ll see about that one. What else?” My pen was poised over the notepad, ready to write down suggestions that might be useful.

  “Does he have a favorite band? You could get them to do the music.”

  “You’re forgetting we’re not hosting the party in New York… and how much do you think the hospital here pays me? Besides, I don’t think Bowie’s making a special trip back from the other side to play a birthday gig in the middle of small-town Alaska.”

  “Fine, DJ it is. But make sure they have a list of Gage’s favorites.”

  “That can definitely be arranged.”

  We chatted—or rather I listened to Frankie brainstorm out loud—for another half an hour. I was grateful for his suggestions, no matter how outlandish they were. When I’d originally come up with the idea to throw Gage a party, I thought it would be a piece of cake—no pun intended—to throw something together he would love.

  After all, I knew him better than anyone else on the planet.

  But once I’d started trying to come up with ideas, it had turned out to be more difficult than I’d been prepared for. I’d been to a thousand fancy parties back in New York. My father had thrown all sorts of fundraisers and benefits, dinner parties and cocktail hours. But transplanting the New York party scene to small-town Alaska wasn’t all that easy. And with Sawyer’s Ferry all decked out for the holiday season, it was tough to keep it from transforming into a holiday party.

  I loved Christmas, and there was nothing better than the holidays in Sawyer’s Ferry, but I wanted this night to be about Gage. There’d be time for mistletoe and presents later. So, I was beyond fortunate that Frankie seemed to be an everlasting well of concepts when it came to event planning.

  “I gotta go,” Frankie said, tossing an exasperated sigh over his shoulder. “Gia needs me to watch her gremlin children while she runs to the store.”

  “I should run too. My list of shit to get done just grew by ten, and I’ve only got a couple of weeks to do it. Glad to hear you’re still enjoying crashing with your cousin, though.”

  “Living the dream!” he said before his image disappeared from the screen.

  “Was that Frankie?” Gage’s voice came from behind me.

  “Shit, you scared me.” A shot of adrenaline rushed through me at the thought that he might have overheard us talking about the party. “What are you doing home?”

  Gage crossed the room and collapsed on the couch beside me, then lifted his feet onto the coffee table and pulled me into his arms. The glow from the lights on our Christmas tree made everything feel kind of soft for a moment. “Logan got to the hospital early, so I took off. Thought we could do something today. Grab lunch at the Starlight or something?”

  “Uh…” Lying, particularly on the fly, did not come easily to me. Lying to Gage was especially difficult. “I’ve actually got some running around I need to do this afternoon. Errands. Totally boring.” I extracted myself from his grasp.

  Gage grinned and smacked my ass. “I’ll come with you. We can grab lunch while we’re in town.”

  My stomach rumbled at the thought of food, but I didn’t have time for Rosemary’s holiday mac and cheese. I needed to visit Jane and start figuring out what I was going to do to make this an event for Gage to remember, which meant I needed to come up with an excuse for why he couldn’t tag along.

  “I… uh… I just ate.” Gage opened his mouth, and I knew another brilliant idea was about to come spewing out, so I quickly interjected. “Like I said, it’ll be boring. Why don’t I grab a pizza from Pacey’s on my way home, and we can plant ourselves on the sofa for the evening? Watch a Christmas movie? You said you’ve never seen Christmas Vacation, like a fucking heathen.”

  With one smooth movement, Gage grabbed me, sitting down and pulling me into his lap. My thighs straddled his as he leaned in, licking a path from my collarbone, up my throat to the sensitive spot behind my ear, and I suddenly found it very difficult to remember why I needed to leave the house.

  “Or you could run your errands tomorrow and we could get a head start on that sofa time now.” It came out as almost a growl, and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran through me. “We’re both off all weekend, and I have plans for you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yep. And those plans include very little vertical activity.”

  His hands were stroking my back while his mouth drove me insane as he planted kisses all along the underside of my jaw. It felt so good to have his hands on me that I struggled to form coherent thoughts. It never got any less surprising how quickly he could turn me from normal, everyday Holden, to a breathless puddle of molten man in his arms.

  “I gotta go,” I finally managed.

  He dropped his hands and gave an exasperated sigh.

  “I’ll be back later,” I promised, ignoring the thick erection tenting his pants as I climbed off him.

  “Of course you can have the party here,” Jane said, looking more excited about the idea than I had been.

  “Thank you so much.” I pushed down the urge to hug her.

  “Of course,” she repeated. “There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for that man.”

  I believed her. I had suspicions that might have included many a sexual favor, despite the fact that Jane was almost old enough to be Gage’s mother. But at this point, with so little time left, I might even be willing to loan him out for an hour or two if it got me a place to throw the party.

  “I just want this to be perfect, you know? He flies so far under the radar most of the time, and he’s never had a proper birthday celebration.”

  “He’s about to.”

  The door flew open, a gust of sharp, frigid air passing through the room as Barrett Anderson walked in backward, hauling a dolly with a keg of beer over the threshold and toward the bar. “Afternoon, Jane. Hey, Holden.”

  “Just the man I wanted to see,” I said. “I was going to head over to Copper Creek after this to talk to you. You saved me the trip.”

  “Oh yeah?” He set the dolly upright and pulled his gloves off, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans. “What can I do for ya?”

  “Gage’s birthday is coming up on the twenty-third, and Jane just agreed to let me throw him a party here that night. My friend suggested a signature cocktail, but that’s just not Gage. I was wondering if you could come up with something for him. Put some cinnamon in a small batch of beer maybe?”

  “You want me to put cinnamon in my beer,” Barrett repeated, his voice absolutely dripping with disbelief.

  “Yeah… or something. I dunno. Don’t you just dump flavoring in and it’s good to go?”

  He looked at me like I’d just asked him to take a shit in the vat of lager.

  “No.”

  “Okay, well, is there anything else you could do?”

  “Just because it’s good in toast doesn’t mean it’s good in beer.”

  I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, second-guessing my idea to ask him in the first place.

  “What would you suggest, then?”

  I thought he was going to tell me I was shit out of luck, but instead, he paused, thinking.

  “I debuted a new holiday ale this year. It’s got some warm flavors in it—no cinnamon, but a similar family. We’ve already sold out. I hadn’t planned on making more since Christmas is only a couple of weeks away, but I could probably get a batch ready in time for the party… print up a handful of special labels for it.”

  “You’d do that?”

  Barrett shrugged. “Sure. Gage is a good guy.”

&n
bsp; I resisted the urge to hug him too. “Thank you.”

  “You wanna try it? See what you think?” Jane asked. “I still have a little left, but it’s been one of my best sellers all season.”

  “Come to think of it, I think that’s the one Gage was raving on about a couple of weeks back,” I said, the excitement starting to roll through me.

  Barrett seemed pleased and joined me on a stool at the bar while Jane poured three pints. “Might as well join you,” she said as she slid two of them toward us.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, and when I pulled it out, I saw Gage’s name lit across the screen. I hoped he wouldn’t be able to hear the low thrum of the other customers in the background.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, where are you?”

  “At the hospital,” I lied.

  “Where? I just got here.”

  “I’m… uh… I’m up on the second floor, just checking in on Mrs. Rivera… Wait… Why are you here?”

  “There was a surgical report I forgot to sign off on this morning, so I had to come back in. You finished all your errands? Wanna grab an early dinner?”

  “I’d love to, but I’ve barely started.”

  “Oh. What do you have to do? I don’t mind tagging—”

  “Just a bunch of boring stuff. Honestly mind-numbing. I’ll get them done and meet you back at home in a couple of hours,” I said with a little too much fervor and hoped he didn’t notice. “I won’t be long.”

  “Okay then,” Gage said, sounding a little dejected. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yep.”

  I hung up and tucked my phone back in my pocket. That had been close. God, I hated lying to him, but it would all be worth it to see the look on his face when he walked into J’s and half the town was there for him.

  I took a sip of my drink, already half a pint behind the other two, and nodded vehemently.

  “This is perfect,” I said. It tasted like Gage, if that made any sense. Not like him, like him, but it reminded me of him in a way. He’d love it.