Pink Lace and a Stolen Propsal - Part of the RJ Scott Christmas Tour!

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Welcome to the RJ Scott Christmas Tour. Thanks for stopping by! Twenty authors and twenty short stories. Look for the link to the other authors participating at the end of this story.

Prizes. We have prizes. Leave a comment and an email address to be entered into the drawing for an eBook from my backlist or a $5 amazon gift card. Two lucky winners will be chosen at the end of the month.

Note: When RJ asked us to write about the MCs from one of our previous stories, I went to Facebook and asked readers who they wanted to hear from. Lawson and Greg from Pink Lace and Stolen Hearts were the hands down winners. If you haven’t read Pink Lace and Stolen Hearts, click to read the free story then read Pink Lace and a Stolen Proposal.

Enjoy and Happy Holidays

 

Pink Lace and a Stolen Proposal

Blurb: All Lawson wants is to propose to Greg in front of the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center on Christmas but the fates seem to have other plans.

 

Throwing down my wrench, I sighed in exasperation. Glancing at my watch didn’t help to decrease my frustration. It was nine AM on Saturday, December 23rd, my supposed day off. Right. I was the superintendent of an apartment building in Burlington, VT. One of my employees, Bernie, was supposed to cover my maintenance duties that weekend but had an emergency. Something about his wife cutting her finger. He was going to be late. While I felt bad for him as I lay under the sink of apartment 2A, I couldn’t help but take out my frustration on the pipes. I might have been banging around a bit too loud.

 

“Everything alright under there?” the tenant, Mr. Woodard asked.

 

Grunting, I tightened the coupling of the new pipe I’d installed and scooted out from under the sink. “Leak’s fixed and you’re all set.”

 

Jumping up, I turned on the water, and then crouched to survey the pipe, crossing my fingers nothing leaked. Glancing at my watch again, I cursed inwardly. My plans with Greg had been derailed for the second time that day. First, on my way to work, my truck had had a flat. And now, if this pipe continued to leak, I wouldn’t be responsible for the hissy fit I would throw. I had made a promise to Greg, the love of my life. A promise I planned to keep.

 

“Looks good,” I said, gathering up my tools at lightning speed. My tension was quickly leaving and my elation growing as I exited the apartment.  In less than two hours, Greg and I would be on the road for New York City and Rockefeller Center. Greg was a true romantic and every year he would sigh and awww over the tree, and the lights and the skaters on TV. Every year, he wished he could visit. This year I had surprised him with an early Christmas gift of an overnight trip to the city. As long as my pager didn’t g—

 

The incessant beep of the pager clipped to my belt drew a loud “fuck” from me. The shout reverberated through the empty hallway and I cringed, waiting for someone to call me out on my foul language. After a few seconds, I blew out a breath. All I needed was a complaint from a resident that I was teaching their kids bad words.

 

Yanking the pager from its holder, I grinned. Mrs. Reynolds in 4C. She was an elderly lady who couldn’t see well and probably couldn’t find her deaf Chihuahua, Sweetums. Usually, he was right out in the open. Knowing the task wouldn’t take long, I sprinted up the stairs. My cell rang as I reached the top. My grin widened and my chest filled with a sappy warmth upon seeing Greg was calling. Damn, if anyone had said a year ago that I would be gaga over a man, I would have balked. Hell, I’d been a straight man for my entire life. But there I was head over heels in love with my best friend of seven years. It had taken me six of those years to get my head out of my ass and realize I was in love. In love with a man. In love with Greg.

 

“Hey, baby, I just have to locate Sweetums and I’m on my way,” I said rapidly, making my way to Mrs. Reynolds door.

 

Greg giggled and that sweet sound wrapped around me like a warm blanket.  “Those two are something else,” Greg said. “I just wanted to tell you not to worry about packing. Your suitcase and the car are both packed. We just need to hop in and we can go.”

 

I swallowed hard. Greg took care of me in so many ways, even when we had only been friends. With his caring nature, he couldn’t help but put others before him, couldn’t help but put me first. I’d be damned before I let him down. This was more than a trip. This was our future and he deserved what I had planned. When I’d finally admitted my love to Greg, he’d told me that he wanted it all, the ring, the wedding, the kids. And he wanted it with me, if I would have him.

 

And I definitely would have him and give him everything he dreamed of.

 

“Thanks, baby. You’re the best. I’ll be there by ten-thirty and then we’re off the New York City.”

 

Greg’s whoop was heartening. As I stepped up to Mrs. Reynolds door, my grin faded as I smelled smoke. Then the building’s alarm went off. Shit.

 

“I have to go. See you soon,” I said and jammed the end button. I knocked. “Mrs. Reynolds.” Nothing. Banging on the door, my heart rate slammed into overdrive, imagining my favorite tenant injured or worse. “Mrs. Reynolds! Open the door!”

 

When I heard nothing from inside, I scrambled to get the master key from the massive ring I had for the building. “Come on,” I muttered finally finding the key and opening the door. A grey haze hung in the air along with that charcoal-like smell of something burning in an oven.

 

“Mrs. Reynolds? It’s Lawson. Where are you?”

 

Sweetums came barreling from around the couch, growling and trying to grab my pant legs with his mouth. Poor thing was probably scared to death. I ignored the dog and raced into the kitchen, the alarm blaring in my ears, to find Mrs. Reynolds trying to fan the smoke out the window. Beside her, more smoke poured from the toaster.

 

“Mrs. Reynolds, you need to get out of here until the smoke clears.”

 

“Something is stuck in the toaster,” she said barely able to get the words out past her coughing.

 

I pulled the plug and ushered her from the apartment. “Everything will be okay. Let’s get you out of here and I’ll get this cleaned up.

 

****

 

 

Two hours. Two hours to clear the apartment, deal with the fire department and the pissy tenants, forced to trudge out into the cold. I smelled like burnt toast and the plastic of the knife Mrs. Reynolds had used in vain to retrieve the bread stuck in the appliance. What she thought had been the toaster she’d unplugged had actually been to the coffee maker. Her eyesight was failing.

 

As I entered our apartment an hour late, Greg rushed to me but stopped short. His nose crinkled and he frowned. “You smell like smoke. Shower quick.”

 

“I’m sorry,” I said for the tenth time as he pushed me to the bathroom.

 

“Just shower quickly so we can get on the road. Clothes are on the sink.”

 

Before he could shut me in, I smiled and then stole a kiss. “How about you jump in with me?” God, I couldn’t get enough of him.

 

“Shower,” Greg barked but he couldn’t suppress the smirk threatening his lips. “Maybe I’ll give you a little something on the way.”

 

Quickest shower ever.       

 

****

 

“Are you sure this is the way we should go?” I asked Greg as the annoying voice of the GPS guided us over Route 100 south. The detour had allowed Greg to drop off some appliance I’d never heard of to his sister that apparently made pasta. This was my first time on this road, which wound through the mountains by Mad River Glen Ski resort. It was kind of sketchy.

 

“It’s the route that loaded when I asked for the shortest way to get there.” Greg frowned looking at the sky. “Is it supposed to snow?”

 

I glanced up at the bleak, grey blackness. The weather had said a chance of flurries but I’d only checked New York since I had planned to head over the bridge and hit the highway south.

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said grasping Greg’s hand. He tended to worry about the weather and traveling in storms made him nervous.

 

The reassuring look I gave seemed to calm him. I was the one who wasn’t too sure about the weather. Twenty minutes later, we hit a snow squall going through the mountain pass. I slowed to twenty-five miles an hour, barely able to see a few feet in front of the car. Greg white knuckled the armrest between us. While I should have been worried about the snow and staying on the road, my anger rose. We were falling further behind. In my head, I revised our plans. If we didn’t check into the hotel first, we could go straight to Rockefeller Center. In my duffle bag was the silver ring I’d bought Greg over three months ago, waiting for that perfect moment, that perfect place. In front of the tree in NYC was that perfect place.

 

My irritation grew until I ground my teeth. When I took a sharp corner, the road disappeared beneath a white blanket of snow that had blown over the road. The car slid toward the tall bank of snow on the side of the road, as I cranked the wheel uselessly. With a thud, we were jerked to a stop.

 

I immediately reached for Greg. “Are you okay?”

 

He nodded, wide-eyed, his chest heaving slightly. “I’m good.”

 

When he didn’t say anything more, I put the car into reverse but the front tires spun uselessly. I grumbled as I put the car into park. The snow fell relentlessly as I opened the door.

 

Greg’s hand clamped down on my wrist. “Where’re you going?” While he was trying to remain calm, I could see the fear in his eyes.

 

I patted his hand. “I need to dig us out.”

 

“Shouldn’t we wait for a plow?”

 

I reined in my anger what I deemed to be a stupid question. Greg hadn’t done anything wrong and didn’t deserve my wrath. It could be hours before a plow showed up and freezing to death on top of that mountain wasn’t on my agenda. “Just let me take a look, okay?”

 

When he reluctantly nodded, I cupped the back of Greg’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. His body instantly relaxed against me. When we pulled away he whispered, “Be careful.”

 

I nodded, zipped my parka up to my chin and pulled on my hat and gloves. Outside, the wind whipped the snow into my eyes and stung my face. Damn, I couldn’t see much but I saw enough to know the car was entrenched in the snowdrift. Past that, the road looked passable. Without a shovel, though it was hopeless but I had to try. I made sure the tailpipe was cleared of snow then rounded the front and started to clear the snow from around the tires. I unleashed my anger, unleashing adrenaline, increasing my fortitude to get us free and to Rockefeller Center. The ring in my duffle bag was going to get on Greg’s finger that night, so help me God.

 

Thirty minutes later, I was frozen to the bone. My feet and hands were numb,  my entire body, including my eyelashes and face, were caked with snow. I imagined I resembled a frozen Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining. Greg had pleaded with me repeatedly to get into the car but letting him down wasn’t an option. When the car door opened, I spun around, barking at Greg to get back into the car. He’d tried several times to help but I hadn’t allowed it. This was his special trip and that’s exactly what I planned to deliver.

 

Greg ignored my harsh words and cupped my icy cheeks in his hands. The warmth barely registered. “Law, honey, please. I need you to get back into the car. Please.” Greg’s breath hitched.

 

“But I p-promised y-you R-roc-ckef-feller C-cent-ter.” I hadn’t even noticed my teeth were chattering.

 

His brow creased and that’s when I saw the shininess in his eyes. I was scaring him. I was a shit.

 

Something crossed Greg’s face, and he frowned, pursing his lips. “Lawson, you’re more important to me than Rockefeller Center. You’re going to get frostbite. Now get your tight ass into that car or you will see one pissed off gay man. We have plenty of gas and we can wait out the plow.” Fuck, he was hot when he was bossy.

 

The warmth of his hands had thawed my cheeks and suddenly I wanted to cuddle with him and get warm. When I nodded, he smiled wide and didn’t hesitate to release me so I could return the heated car.

 

****

 

My body had thawed quickly thanks to Greg stripping me of my boots ad jacket. Oh, and crawling into my lap and sitting on my hands. Before long, he had relaxed me into forgetting we were stuck on a mountaintop in a snowstorm. Making out in the car was actually hot. When Greg broke our kiss, I was breathless and hard as I ran my hands over his chest. 

 

He gazed at me with his lust-ridden eyes. “Nothing is more important to me than you, Law. Wherever you are is where I want to be, even stuck in a car in the middle of a god-awful snowstorm. I don’t need NYC or anywhere else. Wherever we are, as long as we’re together, that’s the perfect place.”

 

He was right. We were here and I needed to tell him how important he was to me, how right my life had become when he agreed to be mine. I reached up and brushed my hand over his cheek, mesmerized by the love threatening to burst my heart. Why not here and now?  Why not...

 

A thought caught my breath and I looked into the back seat. Panic welled in my chest when I didn’t see my duffle bag.

 

“Let me up.” I practically threw Greg into the passenger seat. He flailed and managed to get over the console.

 

“What the heck, Law?”

 

I clicked the trunk button and jumped from the car. Looking over the contents, I immediately knew that in my hurry to get on the road, I’d left my duffle bag in my truck, along with Greg’s ring.

 

“FUCK!” I screamed at the black sky as fat heavy flakes brushed over my face.

 

I hung my head as Greg rushed to me. I had failed big time. Failed Greg.

 

He laid his hand on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

 

I shook my head, biting my cheek hard to stop from blurting out what I’d done. “I’m sorry for screwing up your trip.”

 

Greg barked out a laugh that lifted my head. “So you cut Bernie’s wife’s hand and intentionally got a flat tire and made that pipe leak and filled Mrs. Reynold’s apartment with smoke and caused a snow storm?”

 

“No! But you deserved something perfect.”

 

“Jesus, Law, give yourself a break,” Greg snarled. Damn, he sounded pissed. That expression quickly left as he turned his head, his brow raised. “Did you hear that?”

 

I turned my head toward the road and saw the lights breaking over the hill.

 

“Yes!” Greg shouted as the plow turned the corner.

 

I waved my arms like a loon as if the driver would miss seeing us and drive by. The plow stopped and the window rolled down. A man with grey hair and a red beanie stuck his head out. “Seems like you boys got yourself in quite a pickle. Good thing I came along.”

 

****

 

I sighed with relief as we entered the town of Waitsfield. We had followed the plow down the mountain after the driver, Frank, kindly pulled us from the snow bank. Even though the snow had let up, I knew we shouldn’t be on the roads. Seeing the Waitsfield Inn and the vacancy sign, I finally relax knowing I’d gotten Greg to safety.

 

What I hadn’t let go of was the feeling of failure.

 

Once we were in our room, Greg oohed and awed over the beautiful room with its period decor, whatever period it was. I didn’t care. I sank onto the bed as Greg went into the bathroom. Yes, I was sulking and wanted to cheer up for Greg but the funk was impenetrable.

 

Or so I thought.

 

Heading to the window, I pulled back the lacy curtain to see if the snow had stopped. The room faced the rear of the Inn. In the center of the yard was a perfectly shaped Christmas trees covered in white lights. Crowning the small tree was a bright star.

 

“Isn’t this place perfect?” Greg asked as he exited the bathroom.

 

Perfect.

 

Greg’s words came back to me. Wherever we are, as long as we’re together, that’s the perfect place.

 

Like the Grinch on Christmas morning hearing the Whos down in Whoville singing, my cold heart swelled in my chest. God, I was such an ass and I grinned. Turning, I ran and grabbed Greg’s coat and shoved it at him.

 

“Put this on and your boots.”

 

“W-what?”

 

I ignored the confusion on his face as I pulled on my parka and boots.

 

“We’re not going to New York City now!” Greg insisted, stomping his foot.

 

I stopped at the door. “Just outside. Come with me, please?” Damn, he was so cute with that confused look on his face. I stepped before him and cupped his cheeks as he’d done with me on the mountain. “Trust me.”

 

He nodded without contemplation, sliding on his boots and coat and blindly following me outside of the Inn, trudging through the snow. I stopped before the tree and took his hands.  Greg smiled, the lights from the tree sparkling in his eyes.

 

“It’s not Rockefeller Center, but...”

 

“But it’s perfect,” Greg said.

 

I studied his face, the gentleness of his smile, the love in his twinkling eyes and I couldn’t help but think I was the luckiest man on earth. “No,” I whispered. “You’re perfect.”

 

I laid a gentle kiss on his warm lips, ready to drop to my knees and profess my undying love when Greg pulled away and sank to one knee. Shock quickly replaced my bewilderment as he pulled a small black box from his pocket.

 

“I was going to do this in New York but here it goes. You, Lawson, are my knight in shining armor, my hero and my heart. Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?” With that, he opened the lid and presented me with a silver wedding band with a Celtic design.

 

My jaw dropped as I stared at the ring, my thoughts frozen. When my brain started to process again, I looked at his face, his pensive expression telling me he was afraid I might say no.

 

I laughed out loud at the irony of the situation and fell to my knees, the cold snow melting and soaking into my jeans.

 

His pensiveness was replaced by confusion. “What’s so funny?”

 

I rested my hand on his arm. “I was going to propose to you tonight in front of that damned tree in New York City. Then everything got so fucked up and I felt like a failure but then I realized I left the ring in my truck. Damn,” I said smiling.

 

“No wonder you were so pissy,” Greg said. He paused and bit his lower lip. Was it shaking? “You were really going to ask me to marry you?” His voice was barely a whisper.

 

“Yes, baby, I was.”

 

In the light of the tree, his eyes shined and he was simply beautiful.

 

“Yes,” he said with a shaky breath.

 

I frowned. “Yes, what?”

 

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” he said.

 

I chuckled. “But you asked me.”

 

He sniffed and then laughed. “Oh, right. Guess I got caught up in the moment.”

 

Leaning forward, I rested our foreheads together. “Yes, Greg. I will be your husband. There’s nothing on this earth I want more. I love you.”

 

The tears spilled over Greg’s lashes and bright trails streaked his face. “Love you, too, Law.”

 

Greg pulled the ring from the box and with a shaky hand placed it on my ring finger. The fit was perfect. The moment even more so.

 

Greg swiped at his tears and I pulled him close e. He sniffled and burrowed his face into my neck.

 

“How about we go inside and make use of that big bed?” I whispered into his ear. The resulting shudder filled my cock at lightning speed.

 

Greg pulled away and stepped back. A wry smile crossed his face. “I have another surprise.” With that, he unzipped his jacket and pulled up the front of his sweater to reveal pink lace.

 

Instantly, my mouth watered and my cock throbbed in my jeans. “Is that...?”

 

He nodded seductively, dropping his sweater, and taking a step back. “Pink lace corset with matching panties and...” He took another step away from me. “Sheer pink stockings.”

 

Lust drove me toward him, picturing him in pink lace. I growled as he scooted away from me. Fuck, he was teasing me.

 

“Come and get me,” he taunted, backing away. “I’m yours.”

 

My heart leapt. “Always,” I declared and the chase was on.

 

##

 

Thanks for reading Pink Lace and a Stolen Proposal. Visit RJ’s blog for a complete list of authors and their stories.