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

She started talking a mile a minute about turkey and dressing, cranberry sauce and new potatoes, gravy and dinner rolls. The list of food rolled over me, drowning me in delicious images and smells.


I wanted. I wanted so much to go. I ached to go. But if the Home drilled nothing else into me, I did know the rules. Cute girls and boys got cuddly toys and happy mommies and daddies. Ugly oversized kids made their own happiness.


Time to start over and get real. I let her talk until she seemed to dry up.


“Uh, nice talking to you, ma’am. Here’s Jay. Merry Christmas.”


I handed him the phone and started clearing the table as he wandered away to talk to her.


See, here’s the problem with a loft. There’s no place to go to be private and alone. And I knew this discussion with his grandmother was one of those talks.


Chapter 10