Deck the Palms – An Annabeth Albert Christmas Read Online Annabeth Albert

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
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“I’ll be right here.” I meant the promise on multiple levels. I’d be right there, waiting for him, as long as I could. What I’d almost said earlier was that he made me believe in romance again. He made me feel twenty again, giddy and hopeful. But confessing that wouldn’t have served any purpose, not with the end of the month in sight.

I wasn’t leaving the party, but when a herd of kids zoomed back into the family room, I wandered out to the pool area, taking Nolan’s present with me. Some parents I recognized from around the school lounged near the pool, and Barney lay sprawled out on his favorite raft. Overall, though, the area was much less populated than inside the house. I found a cute glider tucked away in the back corner of the yard and claimed it for Nolan and me.

I didn’t have to wait long before he came bouncing in my direction, holding a sprig of fake leaves in one hand and a large box in the other.

“Is that mistletoe?” We were enough out of sight of others that I was totally willing to chance a kiss.

“Maybe I’m just happy to see you?” Nolan held the sprig over my head, bending to give me a fast kiss before settling next to me. “And I have your present.”

“I told you that you didn’t need to get me anything,” I scolded as he set the box in my lap. Like the presents he’d helped wrap for me, the wrapping job was impeccable, with crisp lines and curly ribbon. And…vents? “Uh…why are there airholes? Please tell me it’s not a pet.”

“It’s not a pet. Dry ice made wrapping a challenge. Just open it already.”

“Oh.” I opened to reveal a treasure trove of New York goodies—bagels, cream cheese, and several kinds of the bakery cookies Nolan had waxed poetic about, including black-and-white cookies and Linzer tarts. Getting it all express air shipped to Oahu couldn’t have been easy. “Thank you.”

“Okay, I know it’s a bit of a self-serving gift, but I kept thinking how much I wanted to visit my neighborhood bakery with you. And I know that can’t happen, so I brought the bakery to you.”

“I’m going to share with the boys, and I’m looking forward to trying the cookies.” I tried to make my tone suitably grateful, unsure why I wasn’t more excited about the food. Maybe it was the reminder that we were indeed from different continents, unlikely to meet again. “Should I save a few cookies for when you come to North Shore?”

“Maybe.” Nolan blushed prettily as I handed over his present. Unlike his efforts, my wrapping could use some work, especially given the irregular shape of the item. He tore the paper off, then smiled. “It’s a charcuterie board! In the shape of Oahu.”

“Non-hipster folks would call it a cutting board, but yes, I did the jigsaw outline and wood burning for the details. The boys helped sand and applied a food-grade stain.”

“I love it.” Nolan beamed, but like me, he seemed subdued.

“I wanted you to have a piece of the island to take with you. The wood’s local too, from a tree that fell on my parents’ property.”

“I’m going to treasure it forever.” Holding the board to his chest, Nolan dropped his head to my shoulder. “I don’t want to think about leaving. I don’t want to think about the end of the month.”

“Then we won’t.” I bent to offer him a soft kiss, wishing I could spare us from the coming pain but also not wanting to waste a second of the time we had left.

Twenty-One

Finally! Your faithful principal finally had a few moments to herself, and I got all the wonderful pictures from our holiday festival uploaded. Tag yourselves! And another thank you to Mr. Bell and Mr. Winters for the performances and standout decor.

NOLAN

Only for Merry would I awaken at dawn on the morning of the twenty-seventh and take the earliest possible bus to North Shore to maximize our time together. I’d said my goodbyes to my folks the night before, not that they seemed to have noticed. Like my Thanksgiving week trip, the bus was a crowded mix of locals and tourists. But after two months on the island, I didn’t fit in with either group, though for different reasons now.

The morning was nippy, so I wore the hoodie I’d stolen from Merry advertising a surfing company. I’d learned leather and the ocean didn’t exactly mix, so I had switched to a nylon bag I’d found in Cara’s hall closet. My designer sandals had given up the ghost a week ago, and I’d replaced them with the strappy kind everyone wore everywhere on the island, including to fancy brunches. My skin was still New York-pale thanks to a sunscreen habit, but my fluffy hair hadn’t seen a stylist since my arrival, and the waistband of my shorts said I’d enjoyed being in vacation mode and not worrying about being at my ideal size for auditions.


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