Page 18 of A Christmas Harbor

Paul looked past him at the river. “Whoa, check out that boat.”

David followed him to the railing beside the gate that kept vehicles at a safe distance from the hinge.

A schooner was approaching the drawbridge, its motor at a low putter, soothing in its smoothness. The tall mainmast was adorned with alternating strands of red and white Christmas lights, transforming it into a candy-cane stick, while the shorter foremast bore a lighted wire frame in the shape of a Christmas tree. A cheerful enough display, but it lacked ambition.

Another gust blew through them. Leaning on the railing, Paul shivered and stamped his feet. “It’s even colder up here on the bridge.”

“Yeah, but I can…” David grimaced and closed his eyes. Why was this still so hard?

“You can what?”

David opened his eyes. “Keep you warm.”

Then he moved in and kissed Paul. With a low moan, Paul drew him close, folding him into an embrace.

This new mouth felt somehow familiar, somehow like home. Like the way David had felt when he first stepped aboard theMany Watersand knew she was the one.

They pressed closer, kissed harder, as the bridge rumbled beneath their feet. It felt like David was falling—diving—into the warmest, safest waters of his life.

At last they stopped to take some full, fast breaths. Paul glanced to his right and chuckled. “That’s a little on the nose.”

David looked at the nearer drawbridge leaf, still rising on its way to full vertical. “Huh?”

“You know in those old movies when the couple are kissing and then there’s a jump cut to a train speeding into a tunnel?”

David’s face flared with heat. “Now every time I see that bridge go up I’ll think of…” he glanced down between them “…this.”

“Hmmm.” Paul threaded his arms inside David’s half-open coat, snuggling them closer together. “Can I tell you a secret?”

At last. “Go ahead.”

“For the entire time I have known you, my left foot has been soaking wet.”

So much for big revelations. “Well, then we’d better get you inside so you can take off that shoe and sock.”

“Thanks,” Paul said, brushing his lips over David’s cheek, his soft stubble waking every nerve. “You’re very hospitable.”

“And if you have any other wet clothes…I mean, we could take care of those, too.”

“Good to know.” He kissed David’s neck, sending twin shivers racing down his back.

Maybe the drawbridge’s timing hadn’t been terrible after all.

Paul’s phone burbled inside his coat. He let go of David. “Shit. I was supposed to call my sister before midnight.” He pulled out his phone and stepped away. “Sorry, Carolyn. Lost track of time.”

With another tremor, the drawbridge leaves began their descent. The noise smothered Paul’s side of the conversation, but he was smiling back at David as he spoke to his sister.

“Everything okay at home?” David asked him after he’d hung up and they’d started across the bridge again, this time brazenly holding hands.

“For the most part,” Paul said. “I still feel guilty for bailing on them. It’s the first time I won’t be with them on Christmas. Even when I’ve had boyfriends, their parents usually weren’t as accepting as mine, and I won’t tolerate even passive homophobia on Christmas. That’s my red line.”

“I share your red line, which is why I usually spend Christmas alone.”

Paul squeezed his hand. “But not this year.”

David squeezed back but couldn’t reply right away. Would they spend tomorrow together as well as tonight? The longer he was with Paul, the more he wanted to share about himself, but so much of his past was the opposite of holiday fun.

As they descended the bridge on the Eastport side, Paul said, “I take it your parents aren’t the most open-minded in the world.”

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