The NorthStar Read online

  “The wash? Oh, upstairs.” John emerged from the pantry followed by the kitten, who looked to have doubled in size overnight. “I had them installed in the space under the stairs leading to the attic.

  “Very practical.”

  “I thought so.”

  Chance left the hamper at the bottom of the stairs before turning the tree lights on. Returning to the kitchen, he found John stirring something on the stove that was most likely oatmeal and trying to play with a rambunctious kitten at the same time.

  “I can’t cook worth a bullock’s blue balls; I’ll entertain Trouble here.”

  John had found a long piece of ribbon, bright red and shiny, perfect for the kitten.

  “We need one of those laser things I’ve seen on TV.”

  “Tomorrow, when the stores open back up.”

  Tomorrow when the stores opened back up, Chance and John were making a trip to the bank. And—he thought as he dragged the ribbon back and forth, back and forth, laughing when the kitten slid across the floor against the cabinets—to the vet.

  John set their bowls on the table in the breakfast nook. While the oatmeal had been cooking, he’d also brewed coffee. Chance sighed. Apparently he was going to have to at least try to drink coffee, as he hadn’t remembered to look for tea yesterday and a perusal of the pantry brought no tea to light.

  The nook had built-in benches around the small table instead of chairs. It meant that he and John were able to cuddle next to each other as they ate their Christmas morning oatmeal and looked out into the snowy backyard. John had put holiday music on, and it played quietly in the background.

  It was magical.

  The snow was falling thick and fast, not blizzard conditions, but Chance was glad they didn’t have anywhere to be.

  “Bloody hell, what about the showtimes today?”

  John grinned. “The show must go on, smarty-pants.” He spooned oatmeal into his mouth and continued after swallowing. “Your fancy SUV will be fine. We’ll still get some folks. Not as many as last night. But,” he shrugged, “that’s generally how Christmas Day is regardless of the weather. We have a few hours to kill before we need to head down. I’ll text Reed and tell him not to come in, but dollars to doughnuts he shows up anyway.”

  “First, pants are not what you think they are, and what the bloody hell does ‘dollars to doughnuts’ mean?”

  John laughed and Chance joined in, loving that he could make that happen.

  “Just so you know, enjoy the snow today. It will probably be gone tomorrow, and if it isn’t, you’ll hate it, because snow here is a pain in the ass. It gets icy quick, and the hills—well, let’s just say there are always a few slow car crashes that end up on the local news.”

  * * *

  John was right. The theater was not even close to as busy as it had been the night before, but twenty or so hardy souls showed up, and Reed too, to watch six and a half hours of holiday mayhem. It had been years since Chance had watched these movies. This time he sat up in the booth with John, cozy and quiet, enjoying every moment of their time together.

  By the time everyone left and the theater was locked up, it was after eight in the evening. Snow had continued to fall, and the radio announcer they’d listened to on the drive in said it wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon. The main streets were clear enough for his car, but he was glad they didn’t have more than a few miles to drive.

  The kitten was indignant it had been left to its own devices. John opened the pantry door and it stomped out, but it didn’t pout for too long. Once Chance had the string out, it was happy to run around the kitchen and out into the main area. It found the tree very interesting, stopping to sniff and hesitantly raise a paw toward an ornament.

  “Hell no,” John said. “I’ll go find the spray bottle!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  John woke up the day after Christmas determined to do what he could to save the NorthStar.

  “I need to go to the bank today,” he informed Chance. “They have to give me more time. I’m a loyal customer who’s been with them for years.”

  “Right. What can I do?”

  “Moral support would be nice.” A thought hit him as they climbed into Chance’s rental. “I should pick up my car. I don’t need to get used to you driving me around.”

  Chance drove them to the theater. The streets were clear, but it was cold and there was still plenty of snow. Kids of all ages were outside, wrapped up in their cold-weather clothing, pushing balls of snow across their lawns making snow folk. A group of teens was having a snowball fight in the park. John couldn’t help but smile. Soon enough everybody would be griping about it, but today they were enjoying the weather.

  Chance drove carefully and soon was parked behind John’s car.

  “Where are the construction workers?”

  “It’s probably too cold for them to work. I’m going to be glad when that project is finished. I mean, I’m glad to see improvement in Skagit, but this has really interfered with business, and I’m constantly having to remind them not to leave their huge trucks blocking the parking lot.”

  “That bad?”

  “I’ve had a couple run-ins with the construction manager.” John shrugged. “It’s all par for the course. They have deadlines, and I have a business to run.”

  They dug his car out and waited in Chance’s while John’s heated up. Then, with John leading the way, they headed for the bank.

  * * *

  Together they waited until someone could see them. John was pleased to see it wasn’t the same loan officer he’d seen a few days earlier. Julia Reyes emerged and escorted them back to her more-private cubicle. John had gone to school with her older brother—Julia was the baby of a very large family.

  After seating herself behind the desk, she asked, “How can I help you today, John?”

  As succinctly as possible, John explained what was happening.

  “I’m wondering why the bank is moving so quickly on this. I’ve been a customer for years and have never been late before. This year has been hard and some things have happened, but I’ve always met my obligations or made arrangements.” It was mortifying having to tell the baby sister of an old friend his troubles. But somehow having Chance with him made it a little easier.

  Julia listened, nodding sympathetically. “Let me look at the accounts a bit. As a lending institution it isn’t in our best interest to have a business fail, not if we can help you.”

  She typed and clicked and hmmmed, reading what popped up on her computer screen.

  “Hmm,” Julia kept saying as a few minutes stretched into fifteen and then twenty. It was starting to get on John’s nerves.

  “Oh,” Chance said, pulling a battered piece of paper out of his pocket. “I don’t know if you need this.”

  Julia took the paper and quickly read it.

  “Where did you get that?” John asked. He should have thought to bring it himself.

  “It was in the laundry. Well, technically it was in your back pocket.” Chance shrugged. “Forgive me?”

  Julia cleared her throat. John realized with embarrassment they’d been staring into each other eyes and acting like lovers.

  She tapped the letter with a perfectly manicured nail adorned with a little elf. John wondered how nail artists were able to do that.

  “There’s something off about this. Do you mind if I make a copy and take it to show my manager?”

  “Go ahead,” John said, looking at Chance. Chance nodded his agreement, or support. After Julia left, John didn’t know what to say. He had butterflies of hope fluttering in his stomach. They made him nervous and queasy at the same time.

  “What do you think?” he asked Chance.

  Chance lifted a shoulder. “I know nothing about the American banking system, but Ms. Reyes seemed concerned.”

  “Thanks for coming with me.”

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

  “Chance . . .” They were in the middle of a bank, for
crying out loud. “You can’t keep saying those things. You can’t mean them?”

  A large, warm hand landed on his thigh, squeezing gently. “I can and I do.” He didn’t back up his words with anything more than a quick kiss to the shell of John’s ear. John shivered.

  They sat together quietly, waiting for Julia. At some point John realized they’d started holding hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if his hand belonged in Chance’s and vice versa. It certainly felt like they belonged together. John’s heart and body knew what they wanted. His brain did too, but it kept bringing up concepts like “common sense” and “sucker” and reminding him about Rico.

  At some point, though, he was going to have to move on. He would put whatever happened today at the bank and with Rico behind him and start again. Why did he have to wait to do that? Why couldn’t he accept that someone incredible had come looking for him, for boring John Hall, had found him and wanted to keep him? Why not? Why couldn’t John grab what life was offering him? He squeezed Chance’s hand, receiving a squeeze and a smile in return.

  Flashing lights distracted him from his thoughts. They both watched as an SkPD car rolled into the bank parking lot and stopped in front of the door. Two officers got out of the squad car, leaving the lights flashing red and blue. They entered the bank, where they were met by a bank employee and led down an inner hallway.

  “What’s happening?” Chance asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  They tried to peer around the half wall of Julia’s cubicle, but it wasn’t until John saw Colin Short, his hands cuffed behind his back, being escorted out by the officers that he had any idea what was going on.

  Short saw them watching and yelled, “I hate your kind! You don’t deserve to live!”

  While everyone in the bank gawked, the officers dragged Short outside and shoved him into the waiting car. Then they came back inside, approaching Chance and John where they sat, stunned by the events unfolding in front of them.

  “What just happened?” John asked as Julia Reyes finally returned to her desk.

  Both officers were handsome, John couldn’t help noticing. One was in fact a detective. He flipped his badge toward them.

  “Beto Hernandez, sorry about that piece of shit. Which of you is John Hall?”

  “Um, me?”

  Hernandez focused his intense gaze on John. He had unnerving caramel brown irises surrounded by a darker band of brown. Hernandez must not have been a local or John would have recognized him; they must have been close to the same age.

  “My apologies on piece-of-shit’s behavior as we left. At some point we are going to need you to come down to the station and fill out a report. But not today; I’m in a shitty mood, and even collaring a homophobic douche isn’t going to change it. Happy fucking New Year.”

  Without further ado, Hernandez stomped off.

  Before following, the younger officer shrugged apologetically at them. “HR tries, but it’s hard to argue when he consistently has the highest case closure rates in the department.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Julia cleared her throat, bringing everyone’s attention back to her. The younger officer flushed.

  “Ma’am.”

  “John, I apologize on behalf of the bank for what you have gone through. Within a few days you will be receiving a letter confirming that there are no foreclosure proceedings and your account, while late, is not being terminated.”

  John leaned forward, his heart racing. “What happened?”

  “We still don’t know all the details, but Short was arrested on suspicion of forgery and identity theft.”

  “By suspicion you mean there is no chance it wasn’t him.”

  “Well, I can’t say that, officially.” She leaned closer, whispering, “Yes, emails, lots of electronic fingerprints everywhere. The branch was already investigating him for other activities; this was merely icing on the cake. I am so sorry you went through this. We, the bank, will do everything we can to make things right.”

  John blinked and sat back in the uncomfortable chair. A ray of sunshine made its way through the bank’s plate-glass window. Turning toward it, he saw the skies had cleared for the moment. The snow covering the parking strips and less-traveled areas glittered and sparkled.

  He cleared his throat, suddenly almost too choked up to speak, but he managed. “The NorthStar is okay?”

  Julia was smiling at him. She nodded.

  “I—I don’t know what to say.” John was afraid he was going to cry. He wasn’t against crying, but he didn’t want to do it in public.

  “We do need to work together to bring your account current, but for today I think you can let your boyfriend take you home. Relax, have a glass of wine. After New Year’s we’ll meet and get this all sorted out. I wouldn’t want my favorite movie theater going out of business—what are you showing this weekend? Kidding, kidding—I can look it up myself. I hope you plan on taking it easy. And John?”

  He raised his eyebrows, “What?”

  “Not that it’s going to, but if something like this ever happens again, would you please talk to your friends?”

  John couldn’t help rolling his eyes like a teenager, but he nodded his agreement.

  “Happy New Year,” Julia said. “You deserve it.”

  * * *

  Chance led John back out to the parking lot.

  “No offense, but I’m not sure you are fit to drive.”

  John waved him off. He definitely felt dazed, but he could make it home.

  “Follow me home. If I crash, you’ll be there to pick up the pieces.”

  The unexpected sunlight temporarily blinding him, John drove like an old man, peering through the windshield to make sure he wasn’t going to hit anything. The events of the morning swirled in his head. He probably should’ve let Chance drive, but he didn’t feel like having to pick his car up again. He wanted to park at his house and leave it for a while.

  Chance parked behind him in the driveway, and they met at the front porch. Before John could get his house key in the lock, Chance leaned close, his breath warm against John’s cold cheeks, and kissed him soundly, right in front of all the neighbors out shoveling snow, crafting igloos, and having slightly slushy snowball fights.

  “What was that for?”

  “Everything.”

  “I haven’t done anything!” John protested.

  Chance stood back, and John missed his warmth. “You have. If I weren’t already smitten, I would be smitten.”

  John rolled his eyes. “What kind of word is ‘smitten’?”

  “Smitten because of what an incredible person you are: kind, generous, thoughtful, there’s a sense of humor in there too, resourceful, a man who follows his dreams. Smitten, smitten, smitten.”

  John opened his mouth to add another protest, but Chance silenced him with another kiss, this one hotter than the first.

  Breathing hard, John pulled his mouth away to turn and finish unlocking the front door. “We need to take this conversation inside.”

  John pushed the door open, and Chance pressed up right behind him. “When you say inside, you mean . . .”

  After desperately fumbling with the handle so he could shut the door behind them, John demonstrated what he meant by inside.

  * * *

  Their clothes were strewn across the living room. John ignored the mess, wandering into the kitchen to open the pantry door. The kitten was unimpressed to have been stowed away again, and for longer than it thought necessary. It glared at them both before displaying the extent of its ire by turning its back and proceeding to try to clean one paw. It fell over, making John and Chance chuckle.

  “You get to explain to Junior why we had to have sex before we opened the pantry,” John said.

  Chance laughed and picked up the irritated animal. The sound of his laughter filled the kitchen, and John was certain he’d never heard anything more amazing.

  “I forgot to
get you any tea.” The thought struck John out of the blue.

  “When would you have had time to find tea?”

  “I meant to do it today after the bank.”

  “Does that mean you’re keeping us?” Chance grinned cheesily and held up the kitten in an “I am so cute you cannot resist me” sort of way.

  John pretended to consider. “Hmmm.” He tapped his bottom lip. “Do you come with papers? Have you had all your shots? Are you a biter? FYI, that is not necessarily a deal breaker.”

  Chance’s grin turned sexy. “As far as papers go, I believe I’m related to some moldy old knight who died in the seventeenth century, but most of England is related to somebody like that. I’m not purebred; my father’s mother was from India. But I have had all my shots—a plus there. As far as being a biter, time will have to tell.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. John laughed.

  “I suppose,” John pretended to think about it, “you can both stay—on a trial basis!”

  “Did you hear that?” Chance whispered to the kitten, who was currently content to be held and have its head rubbed. “We get to stay!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  John knew it wouldn’t last, this feeling of being safe and sound inside a cocoon where no bad things could get to him, but it was nice—more than nice—to enjoy while it lasted.

  Since he was expecting it on an unconscious level, John was not surprised two mornings later when Rico showed up at the house. He sighed as he opened the front door; sometimes he hated being right. Rico looked the worse for wear, and for a second John wondered if he was couch surfing or sleeping in his car. Thinking about the bank account and credit cards, the base level of betrayal Rico had achieved, John concluded anything Rico was suffering right now he’d brought on himself.

  He opened the door, stepped outside, and shut it behind him.

  “Why are you here, Rico? You’re not welcome anywhere near me ever again.”

  Rico’s eyes were bloodshot, and he had bags under his eyes. John took in his clothing, which was distinctly rumpled.