With no job and no boyfriend, Justin sees no reason to make a big deal out of Christmas this year, so he plunks down his severance pay on a cottage in the Caribbean and jets away for some Me Time. Not that he'd mind a little Us Time, you understand, but the handsome young islanders of his acquaintance are all friendly, fun, and straight as they come. He sure didn't leave San Diego looking for any middle-aged American gym jock, but when one washes up at his favorite local watering hole, Justin discovers there are worse ways to dance the night away. Too bad the sexy stranger is on a cruise and the next port is calling.<br><br>When he spies the ship still in port while he tends to his Christmas Eve hangover, Justin knows he must manage his expectations. Just because the ship's still here doesn't mean the guy will come ashore, and so what if they do cross paths again? Did they really connect as Justin thinks he remembers, or is that just the beer filling in the blanks? He invents an errand, throws on some clothes, and heads for the dock, figuring there's one way to find out.

Isle Be Home for Christmas

He shrugs. “We never made it to Valentine’s Day. He was never any kind of great love. But he took one look at me and saw what my life was missing, and gave me the nudge I needed the best way he could. He definitely came into my life for a reason. It just wasn’t ‘To be my man’.”


I nod and we carry on up the hill. He switches the bag with the wine bottles and the gorgeous bouquet to opposite hands and asks me, “What about you?”


“Nothing like that,” I say. “I never even got the bike, much less a life-changing Perfect Present.” We round a corner and the bar comes into view, teetering into the forest on the side of the hill. It’s not quite dark yet, but the sun’s gone, and the bar is strung with lights like a Christmas tree. From a hundred yards away we hear laughter and music; the whole little building’s practically dancing like those shacks with windows for eyes in an ancient cartoon.


Chapter 12