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    Apples & Gin: Hot Cocoa Ice Cream: Apples & Gin, #4
    Apples & Gin: Hot Cocoa Ice Cream: Apples & Gin, #4
    Apples & Gin: Hot Cocoa Ice Cream: Apples & Gin, #4
    Ebook78 pages1 hour

    Apples & Gin: Hot Cocoa Ice Cream: Apples & Gin, #4

    By MissLucyJane

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Previously published as Apples & Gin: Hot Cocoa Ice Cream by Jenna Jones

     

    Eight years, seven Christmases, one ice cream.

     

    From Christmases apart to dealing with a relationship crisis to establishing their own traditions, Noah Kingston and Sawyer Shaw have celebrated the holidays a number of different ways. They've met each other's families and learned new facets of each other.

     

    Noah and Sawyer have been through a lot to get where they are. One thing is certain: true love is delicious.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMissLucyJane.com
    Release dateMay 6, 2023
    ISBN9781393627586
    Apples & Gin: Hot Cocoa Ice Cream: Apples & Gin, #4

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      Book preview

      Apples & Gin - MissLucyJane

      Apples & Gin: Hot Cocoa Ice Cream

      Apples & Gin #4

      MissLucyJane

      image-placeholder

      MissLucyJane.com

      Apples & Gin: Hot Cocoa Ice Cream (Apples & Gin #4)

      Copyright © 2010 by Misslucyjane

      All rights reserved.

      No portion of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Misslucyjane.com.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

      Contents

      1. This Christmas

      2. The First Christmas

      3. The Second Christmas

      4. The Third Christmas

      5. The Fourth Christmas

      6. The Fifth Christmas

      7. The Sixth Christmas

      8. This Christmas (again)

      About the Author

      Also By MissLucyJane

      one

      This Christmas

      For the first time in eight years, Sawyer Shaw didn’t wince when an interviewer asked, Ready to talk about your personal life?

      Sawyer said, Absolutely. He was ready. Eager, in fact.

      It was also the first time in eight years that he hadn’t met an interviewer in a restaurant or a hotel bar or some other impersonal location — he’d invited the interviewer, a handsome black man named Gibson Wade, to his and Noah’s house in Venice Beach. Gibson worked for a gay culture magazine instead of a music magazine — another first for Sawyer — and they had spent the first hour talking about growing up gay in the west, about cowboy culture, about music, and about the changes in country music since he started out. Noah’s name had come up more than once, and Sawyer wanted to call him into the front room and have him tell his part in the story.

      He didn’t. Noah liked to say everything people needed to know about him was in his photography and rarely gave interviews. Besides, Noah had been in Indonesia until the day before, and Sawyer dearly hoped he was sleeping off his jet lag.

      You’ve decorated for the holidays, Gibson observed.

      My assistant did most of it, Sawyer said, looking around. Arden knew they liked things simple, and this year was no different. There was nothing garish or overdone here. Their tree was blue spruce, with silver and glass decorations shaped like snowflakes and icicles, and strung with tiny white lights. There were slightly larger white lights around the front window, porch, and the walk leading down to their little dock on the canal. Most of the gifts were wrapped in silver paper with white ribbons and bows. She’d managed to find wreaths made of blue spruce as well, woven with white ribbons. The house smelled like a forest, cool and sweetly spicy. I got home yesterday, and Noah arrived about two minutes before you did.

      Are you doing anything special this year, or is it a quiet Christmas?

      We’re just staying home. We like a quiet Christmas. It took a couple of tries to figure out what was right for us, but I think we’ve got it now.

      Gibson made notes and asked without looking up, Is it hard on the relationship, being apart so much?

      It used to be, Sawyer admitted. When we were trying to make it look like we were just in the same place at the same time, we didn’t manage it very well. Since we’ve gone public, there’s a lot less subterfuge involved. He glanced up the stairs. Noah was probably asleep, sprawled out on the white duvet, dead to the world. We still have to schedule things, though.

      I must have interrupted the reunion, said Gibson with a smirk.

      Sawyer shrugged and smiled. If Arden were there, she’d tease him about having his Noah-glow. There was some smoochin’ before you knocked. We’ll pick it up back up later.

      Gibson checked his notes, still smiling, and then asked, You two have been together eight years now, right?

      Just over eight, yeah.

      How do you think you’ve made it last this long, in the face of the difficulties? The traveling, the different levels of fame— He added when Sawyer smiled, A lot of people know who Noah is. A lot more know who you are.

      Sawyer glanced up the stairs again. "I think fame interferes with a relationship — with your life, for that matter — if you let it. My life isn’t about being famous. It’s about being a musician. That difference keeps me grounded, I hope.

      As for the rest, I think it’s the same that keeps any relationship together: the things that we have in common, the comfort that we have with each other, the passion that we feel for each other — and we laugh a lot. A lot. We hardly ever fight because we laugh so much.

      You keep looking upstairs.

      He’s up there.

      Gibson paused a moment, as if waiting for him to continue, then said, Are you hoping he’ll come and offer his opinion on something?

      Not exactly, Sawyer said. It’s more like — he’s up there. You know? That’s where he is.

      Hm, said Gibson, and Sawyer knew he’d failed to express it once again. He could write songs about Noah all day and all night, but trying to explain them without music — he had yet to do that right.

      They talked for another

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