Page 30 of Don't Shoot Me Santa

“It is.” Aaron slumped away, down to the seat at the table. “It’s hot, by the way.”

Kenny looked away. Went back to the dinner. Served it all up on a plate.

“Do you think they’ve killed before?” Aaron asked as Kenny put a plate of delicious sustenance in front of him. “Related to these other deaths?”

“It’s extremely likely.”

“And you’ll find them?”

Kenny took a seat next to him. “I’ll try. But again, if you want me tostep away, I will.”

“You’d do that for me?”

Kenny held his gaze. “I do everything for you.”

Despite himself, Aaron smiled.

And with total composure, Kenny picked up his fork and said, “Eat.”

“Smells good.” Aaron sniffed, then dug his fork into a sausage and held it aloft. “Bit phallic, though, for someone on enforced celibacy.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “You’re half-naked in our kitchen, jeans practically spray-painted on. I’d say your seduction quota is already overdrawn.”

“Keeping morale up.” Aaron winked, then wrapped his lips around the sausage, sucking it into his mouth before pulling off with a wet pop.

A smile threatened to break through Kenny’s careful control, but he dropped his gaze back to his plate, cutting neatly into his food as though Aaron hadn’t just staged a porno across the table.

“Good,” he said. “You’ll need that morale later.”

“Will I?” Aaron licked a smear of sauce from the tip of the sausage, then nudged Kenny’s thigh with his knee under the table. “And will I have your full attention?”

“Absolutely. Undivided. Always.”

That made Aaron pause. And for that fleeting moment, he forgot about the murder. The death. The rot that followed them around like a bad smell and bit into the sausage. The rest of the meal was consumed with only the clink of cutlery and wind hitting the windowpanes slipping alongside the low hum of the jukebox spinning into something more subdued. A few Christmas songs trickled out here and there, ones they’d added to their vinyl collection. Old stuff. Classics. Their shared love of crooners and soul divas was their grounding.And Aaron let the domestic normalcy tether him back to himself.

When they’d finished eating, Kenny stood, circled behind Aaron, and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Go finish those forms.”

That made Aaron bristle. “Still not sure about those forms.”

Kenny settled his hands on his shoulders, firm and grounding. “They won’t say anything exceptAaron Jones. That’s all they’ll ever see.”

Aaron glanced down at his empty plate. “Doesn’t mean I trust it.”

“Finish them.” Kenny leaned down and pressed his lips to Aaron’s ear. “Then fetch that absurdly expensive wine you bought and bring it upstairs.”

Aaron looked up at him, defiant for half a breath.

Then, as always, he did what Kenny said.

Like a good boy.

Chapter Six

Fall Into Me

It took exactly seven minutes to draw the bath.

Kenny had timed it before. Not because he was obsessive, but because he knew the exact threshold before Aaron’s patience wavered into insecurity. That tipping point between brat and abandoned. And he added a few drops of eucalyptus oil to the water, the one scent Aaron would never admit soothed him, then lit the candle they’d bought at the local Christmas market smelling of smoked orange peel and spiced wood, setting it beside the tub.