Page 30 of His Secret Santa
Lincoln nodded and continued eating his cereal.
“Learn from your brother’s mistakes.”
The spoon paused halfway to his mouth. He didn’t like it when his father spoke about Sam.
“He could’ve had a thriving career in the stock market, but he threw it away by joining the military—then got himself killed.” The man huffed quietly. “What a waste.”
Lincoln raised his head. He rarely argued with his dad—there was no point. But when it came to his brother, he would go toe-to-toe with his old man. “He died defending our country. We should be proud of him. And I am. Damn proud.” His throat knotted. “Why aren’t you?”
The man showed not a spec of emotion. “Because there’s no pride in a selfless life. Either you conquer this world—or it conquers you. I raised you both to be kings among men. Masters of your universe. And your brother chose to crawl through the trenches instead, like a fucking grunt. His entire life of training—wasted. Bled out in the sands of some foreign land who posed no threat to this country.” He gave Lincoln a stern look. “Be smarter than your brother. Don’t waste what I’ve given you.”
Lincoln blinked back the sting in his eyes. “Sam didn’t waste anything,” he whispered. “He followed his heart, his passion. He would have been miserable following in your footsteps. Sam would have rather lived a shorter life doing what he loved than a long life doing something he hated. As much as I miss him, I wouldn’t have wanted that for him… even if it meant having him here with me longer.”
Darren Pratt shook his head as he placed his cup in the sink. “You concern me, son,” he murmured on his way out of the kitchen.
Then I must be doing something right, Lincoln thought. If you were pleased with me, then I’d know I was doing something wrong.
• • •
Holden had wanted to call Jamie as soon as he got the card, but it felt surreal. He waited until morning to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. But when he woke up, the card was still there, in the small drawer of his nightstand where he’d placed it last night.
Jamie met Holden at the pizza parlor downtown and the two boys took a booth in the back of the parlor, away from the few patrons up front. When Holden produced the card, Jamie took it and held it in shock.
“Oh. My. God.” He looked at Holden, his eyes glowing. “And I bet you thought he wouldn’t remember you. Huh?”
Holden smiled nervously. “Pretty much.”
“Well.” Jamie returned the card to Holden. “It’s settled; you’re definitely going. I mean, you don’t want to break his heart, right?” He grinned.
“I doubt it would break his heart,” Holden mumbled but warmed to the notion that he could have such a powerful effect on someone… anyone. Please come see me again. There was a longing in those words. Or was it all in his head? The incident in the parking lot yesterday had hurt him deeply… was he reading more into the card than was there? He wanted it to be more than an invite to a booty call, but was it? And if it was—if this stripper actually liked him—could he date a stripper? How would he feel about his boyfriend stripping and dancing for other men? Things got pretty hot and heavy inside that club.
Don’t even think about that. He doesn’t want to date you. At most, he just wants to fuck you.
Holden was ready. Some part of him had been holding out for Lincoln, even though he knew it would never happen… or someone equally special who was gay. But none of that mattered anymore. Lincoln was no longer a factor, and he didn’t expect a “special gay boy” to show up in his life any time soon. Maybe never. The stripper was the best fantasy come to life that he had. If the guy wanted to fuck—they would fuck. And Holden wouldn’t regret it afterward.
“You sell yourself short,” Jamie said. “You’re a total heartbreaker. You’ve just been stuck in the wrong atmosphere. Even that guy, Cole, and the hot bartender thought you were fabulous—and they’re surrounded by sexy gay men every day, so they would know.”
“They were probably just being nice because it was my birthday.”
Jamie gazed at him. “You know the one thing you need most for your birthday—or Christmas, either one?”
“What’s that?”
“A healthy dose of self-confidence and self-worth, because you are fucking awesome.” He leaned forward a bit and smiled. “And I’m counting on your Secret Santa to prove that to you.”
Holden started to smile when the entrance door opened, and McKenna and Tonya walked in. They went to the counter and seemed to be putting in a large order.
For Lincoln’s birthday party? Most likely.
Holden slid closer to the wall, but the back of the booth seats wasn’t high enough to conceal him and Jamie. Maybe the cheerleaders wouldn’t notice them.
“What’s wrong?” Jamie looked around and groaned. “Oh, them.” He faced Holden. “Just ignore them.”
“Why do you think she invited us to the party?” Holden wondered. “When Lincoln obviously didn’t want us there? Or… me, anyway.”
“Who knows,” Jamie said. “But I’m sure her intentions weren’t good. When have they ever been?”
McKenna spoke to Tonya and then headed into the back of the parlor.