Christmas Gift (Believe Book 3) Read online

  Maya, and even Liam, were cheering as Cabot handed her the penguin and congratulated her on an amazing throw. Patrick didn’t miss that Cabot kept his voice fairly loud as Sarah continued to swear.

  When he noticed Sarah picking up the ping pong ball that Maya had really thrown, Patrick knew it was time to get them out of there.

  “Why don’t we go celebrate your victory with a cookie at the bakery?” he suggested. He glanced Cabot’s way, he winked at him and waved while Cabot headed off Sarah from making a scene.

  Wishing he had gotten Cabot’s number, Patrick figured it was probably for the best. As much as he would like to go out on a date with Cabot, he was too busy.

  “Can I get one with sprinkles?” Maya said as she skipped with one hand holding Patrick’s and the other tightly wrapped around her new penguin.

  Smiling down at the little girl he hoped he’d be able to officially make his daughter, Patrick said, “Cookie with sprinkles, coming up.” Then he glanced at Liam, who he equally prayed would be his son. “What about you, Liam? Any specific cookie you want?”

  In what he was learning was typical Liam fashion, the boy shook his head. “I’ll wait until I see what they have.”

  It saddened Patrick that Liam had learned to always be cautious. Even with something as simple as a cookie, he refused to reveal what he really wanted just in case they didn’t have it. Instead, he waited until he could see what they had for himself.

  Patrick wasn’t sure if that really worked to control his hopes. Saying what he wanted aloud or not, he would bet Liam still had a cookie in mind. That disappointment would still be there if the bakery was out of them.

  Sending up a plea for Liam to get what he wanted, Patrick opened the door to the bakery. Both children rushed to the display. The excited way Maya was sort of bouncing on her feet while looking over at Patrick and pointing to something behind the glass, let him know that she had found the sprinkle cookies.

  But it was the light in Liam’s eyes, as well as the slight smile he wore, that had Patrick taking a moment to thank whoever had been looking out for the little boy by making sure he could have his favorite cookie. Patrick might have asked Liam before, but he hadn’t really needed to. In the nine months since he’d first met them, he’d discovered Liam to be a creature of habit.

  No matter the season, he always went for the frosted cookie the bakery had for the time of year. The first time he’d taken them to get cookies had been around Valentine’s Day and Liam had gotten a heart cookie with red frosting. At Easter, it had been a pastel frosted egg-shaped cookie. As it was Christmas time, there were probably several different shapes, but he’d begun to notice that Liam had an affinity for snowmen.

  Sure enough, after waiting in line and arriving at the counter, Liam pointed to the white snowman with a brightly decorated scarf, three black buttons going down his stomach, two black eyes, as well as a mouth. He even had a tiny orange nose that clearly resembled a carrot.

  It was strange that something so mundane as knowing Liam’s cookie preference could make Patrick feel like he might just be a good dad. If he was able to finalize the adoption that was only a few short weeks away.

  CHAPTER 3

  “I saw that.”

  Cabot glanced over his shoulder to find his best friend, Micah Reynolds, grinning at him with that all too knowing look in his eyes. They’d been friends since Cabot entered the foster care system when he was five. He’d been placed in the same home as Micah and through the years, they’d ended up more often than not either with the same foster family, or at least in the same school.

  It wasn’t until they were teens that they’d found their last placement, a group home that had done precious little to keep the kids residing there safe. But they’d had each other and even though Cabot had barely hit five feet at the time and didn’t even weigh a hundred pounds, he’d learned to fight dirty if it meant helping his friend.

  Micah, on the other hand, had always been big. For some unknown reason, it had the bullies all wanting to prove themselves by taking Micah on.

  “Good, because then I won’t have to explain why I’m not running your booth for you any longer,” Cabot joked as he pulled off the apron and handed it over to the one person in the world he considered family.

  They might have been complete opposites with Cabot having a pale complexion that in the dead of winter Micah would tease him that he could easily be mistaken for a ghost. While Micah’s dark skin made it hard to see him in the dark if it wasn’t for the god awful bright colors he loved to wear. Cabot swore he did that to make sure he didn’t scare anyone when he walked down the street at night.

  In their youth, it had happened on more than one occasion. Hell, there were times when his being black and out at night, instantly put neighbors and cops on alert, especially since at the age of sixteen, Micah hit a growth spurt. Towering over the other kids in their class at six-one many thought of him as intimidating.

  Too bad his growth spurts hadn’t stopped when he was sixteen. Now he was six-six with lots of well-earned muscle that had nothing to do with going to a gym. Micah had never done well in school, but he loved working with his hands. He’d become a handyman, who could fix anything from pipes, to electrical wires, to patching roofs, and even building some of the most beautiful pieces of furniture Cabot had ever seen.

  But he’d never been given much of a chance where they grew up in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It was too big of a city, with too many people who only saw that Micah was large and black. It was a shame, because Micah had to be the sweetest person he knew. Like a big old teddy bear.

  Cabot, on the other hand, was the troublemaker. Not on purpose, but when he saw someone being mistreated, even if it was verbally, he didn’t hesitate to step in and set the bully straight. His attitude had started with protecting Micah, because even though Cabot was only five-eight, he had no trouble going toe to toe with someone a lot bigger.

  But that was where their differences ended. For they were both gay. Both willing to help anyone they met. And both just wanting to settle down and find someone to love and start a family with.

  “Go get ‘em, tiger,” Micah told Cabot as he tied the apron around his waist. “And thanks for covering for me.”

  “How did your dinner date go?” Cabot asked as he patted down his pockets, making sure he hadn’t accidentally put any money from the festival goers in them instead of using the apron.

  Micah shrugged, but Cabot hadn’t missed the wince he gave. “Jeff was okay.”

  Which probably meant he’d been an ass. That was the only problem with moving to a small town. The selection of men to choose from was pathetic. Or, at least, it was in Winter. It was like being gay meant the men in this town felt a sense of entitlement.

  Growing up in the foster care system, Cabot and Micah had learned if they wanted to get ahead, they had to earn the right to do so. It wasn’t going to be handed to them just because they didn’t have a family, or were gay, or any of the other reasons some people came up with to sit around and expect to be handed a nice life on a silver platter.

  “I take it there won’t be another date?” Cabot asked his friend.

  “Definitely not.” Micah waved a hand in the direction Patrick, Maya, and Liam had gone. “You better hurry. I wouldn’t want you to miss your chance.”

  Cabot walked between Micah’s booth and Sarah’s, to get through the opening there. “Thanks, but they’re headed to Frosted.”

  That had Micah laughing. Not that he could blame his friend. What were the chances that after meeting the sexy man, he would head to the place Cabot owned? Talk about kismet.

  ***

  Opening the door, Cabot was happy to see the line of customers that were waiting to be served. Even better, Patrick was at the front of the line with two very excited kids waiting for their cookies, as well as what he assumed was hot chocolate since Nyla was busy putting the finishing touches of whipped cream and flakes of chocolate and peppermint on the top of
three cups.

  His bakery was the best at making hot chocolate. Then again, in Cabot’s opinion, Frosted only made the best in regards to whatever they sold. Was he being conceited? Probably, but it was still the truth.

  When he and Micah had decided to move to the town of Winter, the first thing Cabot had done was to start baking. Oh, he’d also gotten a job at a local restaurant, but it was his side business of baking that had earned him the money to open Frosted.

  Even Winter Grove, the restaurant he’d worked at, now bought all their pastries from his bakery. Several area diners also did. The speed with which his business had grown caused him to expand into the empty storefront next to him. Most of it was used for the much needed kitchen space, but he had also increased his dining area.

  “I see someone has a penchant for sprinkles,” he teased as Nyla pushed the plate with a frosted cookie, completely covered in sprinkles, toward Maya, who was currently hiding behind Patrick’s legs.

  His voice had her edging to the front of Patrick, but that put her too close to Nyla, which wasn’t something Maya was comfortable with either. It was hard being a kid to begin with, but, even worse was the constant having to move around to different foster homes, as well as never having anything permanent in your life.

  “Why don’t I take your plate and you pick out a table?” When Cabot reached toward the counter, his body brushed up against Patrick. They both let out a gasp. Tingles of electricity raced along his body, sending goosebumps rising up along his skin.

  He’d nearly forgotten what he’d been doing in the first place until Nyla cleared her throat and placed a tray with now four cups of hot chocolate, Maya’s sprinkle cookie, a frosted snowman cookie, which he assumed was for Liam, a chocolate cookie with a peppermint candy on top, as well as Cabot’s personal favorite, a gingerbread cookie with a piped frosting along the edges.

  “Do you want this on your tab, Cabot?” Nyla asked him. Her gaze went to the rapidly filling line behind them.

  Taking the tray, he nodded. “That would be great. Do you need me to help you for a few minutes?”

  Nyla was already shaking her head and taking the next order by the time he finished. “I’ve got it. You enjoy your date,” she told him as she started putting several cookies onto plates.

  All it took was that simple little sentence for Cabot’s face to start heating up. Luckily, neither of the kids were still around as they had grabbed one of the few tables that had still been open and were waiting for him and Patrick. When he glanced over at Patrick, Cabot wished he had that apron from earlier back, for his pants were growing ever tighter.

  Just as he assumed his own face was pink, so was Patrick’s. It was utterly… charming. Not to mention erotic as hell. He couldn’t exactly explain why, but he definitely wanted to see that look on Patrick’s face more often. That, and his smile. Cabot would do just about anything for those lips to remain curved upward and the sparkle to stay in those pretty caramel eyes.

  It was hard to believe, just yesterday he’d been more than a little jealous when Micah asked him to cover for him at the festival game so he could go on a date. Not because he wanted Micah for himself, but because for a couple of years now, both he and Micah had begun to believe they wouldn’t find anyone for them to love in their little town.

  Clearly, he’d done something right for Santa to give him a gift like Patrick. Hopefully, Patrick was one of those gifts he’d want to keep instead of being a lump of coal.

  CHAPTER 4

  Shocked to see Cabot stroll into the bakery as if he owned the place, Patrick hadn’t comprehended what was happening until they were about halfway to the table the kids were sitting at, with Cabot carrying their tray of cookies and hot chocolate. That there was an extra cup and cookie didn’t go unnoticed by him.

  “Do you work here or something?” Patrick asked, not sure how he felt about the unexpected company.

  Wait.

  Yes, he did. It was as if every cell in his body had suddenly come alive. Parts that had him more than a bit uncomfortable around the kids.

  “You could say that,” Cabot teased as he put the tray down onto the table and started unloading the contents. Standing there like a statue, Patrick watched him, feeling a bit like a dolt for not even offering to help. But before he knew it, the tray was empty and Cabot placed it on a little stand he had near the door for them.

  “I own Frosted,” Cabot said as he returned to the table.

  Patrick felt his jaw drop as he stared in shock at Cabot, who didn’t seem like someone who owned his own business. Not because he wasn’t capable, for Patrick didn’t know him well enough to know that, but because Cabot was so laid back and… well, happy. Usually that kind of responsibility meant a lot of stress, which Cabot definitely didn’t seem to have.

  “You made these cookies?” Liam asked him with his mouth full of his frosted snowman.

  With his million watt smile, Cabot answered, “Yes, I did.” He appeared proud, which considering how busy the place was, he had a right. “But not just cookies. I also do cakes, cupcakes, pies, bread, and many other pastries.”

  Cabot, who had taken a seat across from Liam leaned over the table as if he were about to tell a secret. “If you come in one morning, you’ll find the displays filled with donuts, cinnamon rolls, muffins, Danish, breakfast souffles, quiche, as well as made to order breakfast sandwiches with eggs, bacon, sausage, and cheese.”

  Liam’s eyes had gotten wide as saucers. Then he turned them on Patrick. “Can we come tomorrow?” he asked. “We don’t have school.”

  “Please,” Maya added. “I wanna donut.”

  Great. If Patrick wasn’t careful, he’d end up at Frosted in the mornings for breakfast and at night for a cookie or cupcake. Talk about sugar overload.

  That said, no way was Patrick about to deny them. It wasn’t often either Liam or Maya asked for anything in fear that they would end up disappointed. “I’ll tell you what.” That was all it took for the light to diminish from Liam’s eyes. “We’ll come tomorrow,” he assured them both, hoping he hadn’t just ruined things by not just agreeing with his first words.

  “But, we can’t come every time you don’t have school. Starting tomorrow, we can come to Frosted once a week. Either for breakfast or for an evening treat, whichever you decide.” He hoped that was an adequate compromise. Was he being too harsh?

  This parenting thing was harder than he thought it would be.

  But when neither kid offered up a complaint, and, in fact, cheered, Patrick began to wonder if he was being too lenient. Mrs. Sanchez often chided him for giving in to their demands. She’d always done so with a smile, but maybe she had a point.

  “Hey,” Cabot was leaning over, so his lips were mere inches from his ear. “Stop sweating the small stuff. You’re doing a great job.”

  “How did you know what I was thinking?” he said before even realizing he was going to speak.

  But Cabot chuckled, easing the tension that had been building as he struggled with parenting decisions that shouldn’t be so damn challenging. “I was like them,” he nodded toward Liam and Maya, who were excitedly talking about what kind of donut they were going to get in the morning.

  “You were in foster care?” Now that he was in the process of adopting two kids who had been in the system, Patrick was discovering there were more people than he would have imagined who came from foster care, or who had been adopted.

  “Yeah.” Cabot ducked his head at the admission, but quickly raised it once again, as if refusing to allow himself to be ashamed. “I wasn’t one of the lucky ones to be adopted.” He shrugged as he took a drink of his hot chocolate. “Or stay in one foster home for more than a year.”

  Patrick had heard the horror stories of some of the children who were shuffled around way too often. There were also a few who had been lucky. “Maya was two, Liam five when their parents were killed. Their grandmother took them in, but then she died almost a year ago from a bout of pneumonia that she
just hadn’t been able to beat.”

  It had been how he’d met Maya and Liam actually. “My own grandfather was in the same ICU, after a massive heart attack.”

  “Is he okay?” Cabot reached over and placed a hand on his arm, his concern genuine instead of the usual fake interest Patrick usually got when someone asked.

  “He died.” Even after nearly a year, he still got emotional whenever he thought of the man who had helped raise him. Hell, he had raised Patrick. His own parents hadn’t been around much to do the job themselves. Even now, with Christmas just around the corner, he had no idea where they were or if they would remember to call him.

  The hand on his moved away and Patrick instantly missed the touch. That was until Cabot’s whole arm went around his back as he gave him a half hug since a full one would have been a challenge with the way they were sitting. “I’m so sorry.”

  Again, Cabot’s tone was authentic, as if he truly cared enough to express his remorse for Patrick’s loss. It touched him, for Patrick had begun to think no one in the world gave a damn any longer.

  “Are we going to get a tree like you promised before we go home?” Maya asked after she and Liam had finished their cookies.

  The hope in both kids’ eyes was all he needed to see to ignore the fact that it was past their bedtimes. “Of course, we are. But we only have time to stop at one tree lot, so if we don’t find one there, we’ll have to find one tomorrow after we come here for breakfast.”

  The reminder that they were returning to Frosted for breakfast seemed to appease them with the thought that they might have to go home treeless.

  “If you only have one lot to go to,” Cabot said as he stood up and started stacking the empty plates. “Then you must go to the Winter Farm Lot on the west side of town. They have the best trees that are cut fresh from their tree farm about ten miles away.”