Fruitcake is the laughingstock of the holiday season. But is it really an aphrodisiac instead? Motorcycle mechanic Sam McGuire is surprised to find a gaily wrapped box on his doorstep with a piece of fruitcake inside. The note on the present is an invitation to a holiday party. Intrigued, Sam attends the party -- mostly to get more of the fruitcake he falls in love with -- and meets his new neighbor, Jay Merriweather. The lure of Jay’s big family and its holiday tradition of enjoying Grandma’s fruitcake hook Sam, as does the sexy man himself. But Sam can't imagine why handsome, college-educated Jay would want someone like him, who was raised in a children’s home and barely graduated high school. Can the magic of the holiday season help two men who seem so different come together like the ingredients in a well-made fruitcake?

Blame It on the Fruitcake

But he wasn’t on my doorstep, so I walked over in my dirt and grime and knocked on the door.


“Hey, wondered if you’d like to go out to eat with me tonight,” I said before it occurred to me I should be saying “hello” or “hi” or something.


He blinked at me a moment and then grinned like high beams.


“Oh yes!” He clapped his hands and did his Brian dance. He turned and picked a heavy coat off the wall pegs by the door.


“Wait. No. Not yet,” I stammered. “I gotta get cleaned up first. Wash off the grease and lube and stuff.”


His eyes glowed at the word “lube,” but I ignored his signal.


“How about I come back in about fifteen and we’ll go?”


He nodded, danced, and waved bye-bye at me as he closed his door.


Shit. He was one really weird fucker. I don’t renege on an invitation, though. I hurried through a shower, put on clean clothes, and was ready to go in almost fifteen on the nose.


Chapter 7