Christmas Waltz Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

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  What This Book is About...

  STRANGER ON THE SHORE: Griff and Pierce

  Black Velvet Cocktail

  EVERYTHING I KNOW: Con and Wes

  World’s Best Tuna Noodle Casserole

  SLINGS AND ARROWS: Carey and Walter

  Pillsbury Bacon Cheese Pull-Aparts

  BLOOD RED BUTTERFLY: Ryo and Kai

  The Classic Japanese Cocktail

  THE ADRIEN ENGLISH MYSTERIES: Jake Riordan

  THE DARK TIDE: Jake and Adrien

  THE ADRIEN ENGLISH MYSTERIES: Adrien and Jake

  BABY, IT’S COLD: Jesse and Rocky

  Classic Cannelloni

  THE FRENCH HAVE A WORD FOR IT: Colin and Thomas

  Bûche de Noël (Yule Log Cake with Coffee Buttercream and Ganache)

  STRANGE FORTUNE: Aleister Grimshaw and Valentine Strange

  DON’T LOOK BACK: Peter and Mike

  Weekend Irish Coffee

  WINTER KILL: Adam and Rob

  Blue Cheese, Bacon, and Balsamic Onion Burger

  FADE TO BLACK: Ghost and Gene

  THE MERMAID MURDERS: Jason and Sam

  Blue Mermaid Cocktail

  NIGHT WATCH: Parker and Henry

  The Do-it-Yourself Club Sandwich

  MURDER BETWEEN THE PAGES: Felix and Leonard

  The Best Ham & Cheese Scrambled Eggs

  A LIMITED ENGAGEMENT: Adam and Ross

  Death in the Afternoon Cocktail

  SO THIS IS CHRISTMAS: Adrien and Jake

  Black Orchid Cocktail

  JEFFERSON BLYTHE, ESQUIRE: Jefferson and George

  Christmas Punch

  About the Author

  Also by Josh Lanyon

  CHRISTMAS WALTZ (Holiday Codas II)

  For a free audiobook download sign up for Josh’s newsletter now!

  In 2012 I began a holiday tradition of writing holiday codas for some of my—and your—favorite stories. I ran the codas on my blog and left them up there for readers to enjoy all year round.

  At the request of readers, I collected the codas in an expanded and edited edition which I published in 2015 as Merry Christmas, Darling.

  Since then I’ve written an additional nineteen codas, so it seems about time to do another collection. As before, I’m including recipes for cocktails and dishes that are either featured in the original works or seem to add some final comment or insight into the era or the characters or their relationship. OR that I just want to share with you, my readers! (Black Orchid martinis, anyone?)

  Because the codas are a holiday gift to you, they also remain available for free on my blog (minus edits, expansion, or erotic content).

  I wish you all the jolliest of winter seasons. May this season be filled with lovely surprises. Happy Holidays to you and yours!

  STRANGER ON THE SHORE: Griff and Pierce

  Kind.

  That was the word. People were kind. Very kind. And curious. Because…what a story. Long-lost heir returns after twenty years. Mystery solved. Happy endings all around. Well…mostly.

  It was going to make a hell of a book, though Griff was no longer sure he was the right person to write it. It was definitely different being one of the principal players in a case. It gave you a whole new perspective.

  But anyway, no need to make a decision on that. Not right away. In the meantime…Christmas.

  Jarrett had gone full out. Making up for lost time. And, more dismaying, looking ahead to a future where he wouldn’t be around to celebrate holidays.

  “After all, I’m not getting any younger, my boy,” he had said when Griff had tried to talk him out of arranging fireworks on Christmas Eve.

  A private fireworks show? That was just…

  But Griff didn’t have the heart to squash Jarrett’s enthusiasm. Jarrett’s heart attack had scared him. Scared Jarrett too, which was why he kept chirping ominous things about not being around forever.

  “Don’t say that,” Griff would say to Jarrett, and Jarrett would pat him fondly on the shoulder or the back. At least he didn’t pat Griff on the top of the head and tell him to go play, so that was something to be grateful for.

  The Christmas Eve Ball—yes, ball, not a cocktail party; formal dress was required—was enormous. In fact, the word “enormous” really didn’t seem to do this lavish extravaganza justice. It seemed like everybody on Long Island showed up, certainly everyone in Syosset was there. There was a dance band playing big band numbers, which gave an idea of the type of event it was. There were ice sculptures and caterers (sometimes it was hard to tell the difference). The towering Christmas tree was decked in generations’ worth of glittering and hand-painted antique ornaments. Miles of pine garland—the real thing—wreathed the staircases and hallways. Everybody in attendance got presents, including the waitstaff. Griff received a ridiculously expensive watch, which merely seemed to emphasize that time was fleeting and it would be best to pick his battles.

  He drank a lot of champagne. Not his beverage of choice, but he was nervous and tense and self-conscious. It was all that kindness. People trying very hard to show that he was accepted and welcomed. Which he appreciated. He did. But he didn’t enjoy feeling like a charity case. Life had not been a picnic for him growing up, but he also had never felt like some sad, pathetic victim. Until all that kindness was directed his way.

  So he smiled and drank more champagne and wondered if Pierce was going to make it or not. Pierce had been delayed over a juvenile-court matter, and Griff very much loved the fact that Pierce was willing to give up his Christmas Eve for some kid caught in the rigid machinery of the legal system, but… It would have been easier if Pierce had been with him this evening.

  And tomorrow would be just as tiring. Christmas dinner here with Jarrett and Marcus and Muriel. Chloe had opted to spend the holidays in San Francisco with Michaela, who was unable to forgive Griff for turning out to be Brian. Well, it really wasn’t about that, but either way Griff understood. He was surprised to find how much he missed Chloe, though. Her unguarded and occasionally outrageous comments came as a relief sometimes.

  Later that same day there would be a second Christmas dinner with Pierce’s parents. They still didn’t know what to make of Griff and Pierce’s relationship, but treated Griff with unfailing kindness.

  More kindness. From every direction. Sometimes he wasn’t sure he could hold up under the weight of it.

  He was standing on the fringe of the crowd gazing out the window at the red, green, and silver fireworks, when warm lips nuzzled the back of his neck. Griff jumped and turned, swallowing a laugh, already registering Pierce’s aftershave and cologne—or maybe it was something more fundamental. The almost electric energy of Pierce’s presence.

  Pierce, unsurprisingly, looked fantastic in a tux. He probably owned a couple of them. White and black? This one was black and severe and suited Pierce’s classic handsomeness. He was smiling, but as his amber gaze studied Griff, his own smile faded. His expression grew attentive and, yes, kind.

  “Feeling overwhelmed?” he asked softly.

  “It’s beautiful,” Griff replied, conscious of the crowd around them, conscious that people were trying not to look like they were listening.

  “Which doesn’t answer my question.” Pierce drew Griff away from the crowd at the window. “Come and buy me a drink.”

  Yeah, like it wasn’t a hosted bar. But Griff obligingly went along to the bar with Pierce. Pierce ordered Black Velvet. Griff declined another champagne cocktail.

  “Ah.” Pierce took a long, grateful sip.

  “Everything go okay?” Griff asked.

  Pierce nodded noncommittally. Then he smiled
. “Glad I made it home before Santa arrived.”

  “Yeah, well, we’re not home yet.” Not true. Technically Griff was home, but these days home was really Pierce’s house in Syosset.

  “We can leave right now,” Pierce said. He was perfectly serious. “Say the word.”

  Griff shook his head. “I can’t do that to Jarrett.”

  Pierce considered him, then sipped his drink. Your Honor, I refuse to answer on the grounds I might incriminate myself.

  Griff watched him. To look at Pierce, you’d never believe he’d ever experienced even a moment of self-doubt. But Griff knew him better now.

  “I have to ask you something,” he said finally.

  “Yes,” Pierce answered promptly.

  Griff laughed. “You don’t know what I’m going to ask.”

  Pierce winked at him. Man, that effortless, assured charm. It was effective, no doubt about it.

  “But it’s kind of private,” Griff said.

  “Then the answer is definitely yes.” But Pierce put a hand beneath Griff’s elbow, guiding him away to a little alcove where they could only be overheard by the Fontanini angels.

  “You can be honest with me,” Griff said. “I want you to be honest, even if you think it’s going to hurt me.”

  Pierce stopped smiling. He said quietly, “I’m always honest with you.”

  “You are, but this is something you may not be honest with yourself about.”

  Now Pierce was frowning. He said, “Go on.”

  Unexpectedly, it was hard to say the words.

  Griff struggled for a moment and then said, “Are we together because you feel bad about the past?”

  “I don’t think you should drink champagne,” Pierce said.

  “It’s a serious question.”

  Pierce didn’t answer for so long that Griff began to wish he hadn’t asked. Don’t pose any question you couldn’t bear to hear answered truthfully. Rules for Happy Living. He wanted, maybe even needed, to believe what he and Pierce had was real, but it was that damned newshound instinct. He just couldn’t help pushing to find out the truth. If it killed him.

  And for a couple of seconds, it felt like it might.

  Pierce said slowly, carefully, like the lawyer he was, “Are you asking me if I feel sorry for you?”

  “No. I know you don’t feel sorry for me. But I know you feel guilty about the past. And I wonder if—”

  “No.” Pierce spoke with utter conviction. “I wish I’d done some things differently, yes. But you should know me well enough by now to know however sorry I feel about what’s past, I wouldn’t cheat both of us out of a chance at future happiness because of misplaced guilt.”

  “Because this really matters to me.”

  “It really matters to me too,” Pierce said.

  “Everybody is trying so hard to make up for what happened, and I just don’t want that between us.”

  “That’s not what is happening here. That is not what is between us.”

  “I don’t want that. Not for us.” Maybe he was a bit insistent, but it seemed very important that Pierce understand this point, but also that he understood what Griff was not saying aloud.

  And maybe Pierce did because his lean cheek creased in a reluctant smile. “I swear to tell the truth and only the truth. Now you tell me something. How much of that champagne did you drink?”

  “I may have lost count.”

  “You may have. Not that glassy-eyed doesn’t look good on you.”

  “’Coz I’m not going to ask again.”

  “No, we’ve talked it out, and it’s settled,” Pierce agreed. He was relaxed and confident again. Also amused. A little.

  But that was okay. That was what you wanted with someone you were hoping to spend the rest of your…Christmas with.

  “What are you smiling about?” Pierce asked softly, leaning closer.

  “Hm? Not sure,” Griff evaded.

  “Well, let me give you a good reason.” Pierce kissed him, then kissed him again. On the third kiss, the Fontanini angels blushed.

  Black Velvet Cocktail

  What I like about Pierce’s taste for Black Velvet cocktails is that they reflect his appetite for both earthy and elegant. These cocktails are a heady mix of champagne and Guinness.

  Ingredients

  Your favorite champagne (or sparkling wine)

  Guinness

  Directions

  Pour the champagne into a tall glass or a champagne flute. Slowly pour the stout on top. Keep an eye on the balance. (It should be about half and half.)

  EVERYTHING I KNOW: Con and Wes

  “What did you want for Christmas?” Wes asked.

  It was asked absently, almost in afterthought as they ate a late dinner at Wes’s house. It was the week before Christmas vacation began. Wes was working more overtime than usual, trying to finish up a couple of construction projects before the year’s end—and since he always worked a lot of overtime, Con felt like they’d barely seen each other in weeks.

  Of course that was as much due to Con’s schedule as Wes’s. Between school and the regular drives up north to visit his mother…

  “I want to spend Christmas together,” Con said.

  Wes smiled, his brown eyes warm. “We’re definitely spending Christmas together.”

  But they already knew that. They were having Christmas dinner at Wes’s mom. Lizzy would be back East, spending the holiday with her mom and Grammy Angie, so it was just Con and Wes—and Wes’s mom and Wes’s job.

  Con understood. They both lived busy lives. He just wished sometimes it could be him and Wes. Just the two of them. But even when it was just the two of them, like right now, Wes was often distracted, preoccupied with work. He was a workaholic.

  Which Con respected. Even admired. But…

  Wes leaned over—Con craned to meet his kiss—and Wes’s affectionate expression changed. “Hey,” he growled. “What are you doing up?”

  Con sighed inwardly.

  “I want a drink of water,” Lizzy said from behind him.

  Con and Wes drew apart again. Lizzy padded across the kitchen floor in her pink nightie and fluffy pink robe, heading straight for Con.

  “Do you think Connor is a drinking fountain?” Wes was still trying to hang on to the forbidding Papa Bear voice, but Lizzy just giggled and reached out for Con to pull her onto his lap, which of course he did. She smelled like bubble bath and little girl.

  “You’re supposed to be in bed,” Con told her as Lizzy made herself comfortable.

  She gave him a look of sweet understanding. She had both of them wrapped around her littlest little finger. And well she knew it.

  “How about a tune-up for that death trap you drive?” Wes suggested.

  It took Con a second to remember they had been discussing Christmas presents.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said uncomfortably, picking his fork up again. They were having casserole. Wes was a master of casseroles. He had a casserole for every occasion—and occasions no one other than the Campbell Soup people ever conceived of. This one had ground beef and noodles. Actually, they almost all had ground beef and noodles. Con chewed and considered.

  He didn’t want to reject a potential gift if that’s what Wes wanted to give him. And it wasn’t really about the money because they had had several talks about money, and Wes had done his best to reassure Con on that score. It did continue to bug Con that he was always in the position of “taking.” But in their last conversation, Wes had asked him to please stop talking about “taking,” and Wes had been serious.

  “You don’t talk about giving and taking in a relationship. Not like that,” Wes had said, as though he had experience at relationships.

  But then again, remembering some of the problems with Eric, maybe Wes was right. Maybe his instincts were the truer.

  “I know I don’t have to,” Wes said now. “But I worry about you driving back at night and breaking down on the road somewhere.”

 
; This was delicate ground. Once before, Wes had offered to loan Con the money for car repairs and he had declined. When Wes had pressed him, Con had gotten snappish. That was before the big talk about giving and taking.

  “That would be a thoughtful gift,” Con said, making an effort.

  Wes’s mouth firmed like he was trying very hard not to make any sound or expression that would lead Con to think he was being laughed at. “Okay, we’ll see what Santa thinks,” he said briskly. He looked at Lizzy. “Speaking of Santa, I think he’s checking his list right about now.”

  “Ha ha ha!” Lizzy chortled.

  Or maybe it was “Ho ho ho!”

  * * * * *

  “Well, what are you getting Wes?” Pip asked.

  They were on the playground, gazes trained on the two-legged whirlwinds kicking up sand and filling the air with shrieks. The kids were always wild in the days before the winter break.

  “Not sure. He’s not easy to buy for.” If Wes needed something, he bought it. And he bought the best he could afford. But he didn’t go in for a lot of toys and gadgets. Unless the toys and gadgets were for Lizzy. Lizzy was Wes’s weakness. And Miss Lizzy was the original material girl.

  “Surprise him,” Pip advised. “Go for something totally romantic.”

  Con assented noncommittally. He’d feel silly trying to buy Wes a romantic gift. Like what? Wes was so…pragmatic. Plus, Wes didn’t like surprises. No, Con would be getting Wes some kind of gift certificate—if he could think of something both inexpensive and personal enough. His own finances were severely limited. Of course you didn’t have to have money to give someone a wonderful Christmas gift, but you did need time, and he had as little of that as he did cold cash. It was frustrating because it was their first Christmas together. He’d have liked it to be special.

  Just the fact that it was their first Christmas made it special. And hopefully there would be other Christmases even more special.

  “Robin, stop throwing sand,” Pip shouted. In normal tones she said, “Do you think he’s going to ask you to move in?”