Page 72 of Dragged Home for Christmas

“Don’t forget the Leather Ball on Saturday,” Kris reminded them. His eyes gleamed. “You don’t have to come dressed in leather from head to toe. Even a small piece will be just fine.”

Mike grinned. “And what willyoube wearing, Jim?”

He flushed. “A leather jock.”

Kris kissed his cheek. “And a collar.”

Sam reached into the pocket of his pajama pants,removed a small, wrapped package, and place it in front of Mike.

He blinked. “Another present?”

“Only a tiny one.”

Mike tore the tissue paper away, and stopped dead when he saw the little figurine. It was Dorothy in her blue and white dress, sparkling ruby slippers on her feet, a basket over one arm, and Toto nestled in the other.

He smirked. “If this is your hint that you want me to lip sync to “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”, you can forget it.”

“Actually? This is just to remind you of something every time you look at it.”

“And what’s that?”

Sam smiled. “There’s no place like home.”

Mike kissed him. “And home is where the heart is.”

Chapter 24

New Year’s Eve.

Mike pushed out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “That’s it, everything’s ready for tonight.” Unfortunately there’d be no champagne to see in the New Year, but he’d get the ball rolling on the liquor license the day after. He’d already completed the paperwork. Until then, sparkling apple cider would do just fine.

Well, kinda.

Jim came into the office. “There’s coffee in the lobby if you’re interested. And we’ve finally got a moment to go through this morning’s mail.” He smiled. “We’re still receiving donations, y’know.”

Mike shook his head. “This town is incredible.”

“But it’s not just P-town,” Jim told him. “That video on Facebook really started something.”

“Oh my God!” Ashley’s voice rang out.

Mike jumped up, and he and Jim hurried into the lobby. “What’s wrong?” Mike demanded.

Ashley stood by the fireplace, a slip of paper in one hand, and what appeared to be a letter in the other. “I’m sorry. It saidNick’s Placeon the envelope, so I opened it. Then I saw your name was underneath.” She gaped at him. “You’re not going to fuckingbelievethis.” She held up the slip of paper.

He looked closer and frowned. “A check? Only people my parents’ age use checks nowadays.” Except that wasn’t fair. He recalled his dad beingsoproud when he’d paid for his gas using his phone.

She bit her lip. “Funny you should say that. Because it’s from your parents.”

Shock reverberated through him. “What?” He snatched the check from her hand and stared at it. Sure enough, there was his dad’s familiar scrawled signature. Then he registered the amount.

“Ten thousand dollars?”

What the everlovin’fuck?

“There’s a letter too.”

He took it from her trembling hand. By now the others had arrived, and he was vaguely aware of Jim telling them what was going on. He gazed at the letter, recognizing his dad’s handwriting.

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