CHAPTER 50
The table was laden with festive dishes. The tension melted away amid the scents of mandarins, roast duck, and gingerbread, Renata’s cheerful chatter, Julie and Billy’s teasing back and forth, and Grandma’s familiar grumbling.
Everyone was talking at once, interrupting one another and laughing.
Everyone except Rick and Aaron.
Rick sat straight, a little too straight, and tried not to look to his right. Tried not to notice how close Aaron was sitting, how warm his shoulder felt, or how much the little stunt in the kitchen was still getting to him.
He’d thought he’d won. That he’d left Aaron trembling and given him no chance to retaliate. But as soon as Grandma got up to fetch another dish and the others shifted slightly to make room, something brushed lightly against his leg beneath the table.
Rick drew in a quick breath.
Aaron’s leg. He’d moved it as if by accident, but with far too much precision for it to have been a coincidence.
Rick shifted away a little. An inch, no more. At once, Aaron moved with him, as though he’d been waiting for it. His thigh pressed almost imperceptibly against Rick’s through the fabric of their trousers.
Warmth spread through Rick at that simple touch. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe.
He straightened even more, doing his best to keep his expression calm.
“Christmas has always been a special holiday in our home,” Grandma began. “And I’m glad we have so many of us gathered here this year.”
“Grandma, that’s your own fault,” Julie laughed. “All you had to do was mention your Hong Shao Rou, and we’d have flown in from across the ocean.”
“That’s true,” Billy chimed in. “I dream about it every year.”
Renata nodded warmly.
“Yes, Mrs. Hong, you’ve outdone yourself!”
“Oh, stop it,” Grandma said, waving a hand, though her eyes were shining. “Eat while it’s still hot.”
Aaron calmly brought a piece of pork to his mouth. The meat was so tender it practically melted on his tongue. He nodded appreciatively.
“This is incredible, Mrs. Hong.”
At that very moment, Aaron’s leg brushed against Rick’s again beneath the table.
Rick gave a barely perceptible start and shifted away slightly. Aaron followed at once, pressing his
thigh against Rick’s once more.
Rick frowned and gave him a quiet nudge with his foot, trying to push him away. Aaron finally moved his leg, and Rick had just begun to relax when he felt a warm palm touch him.
He froze.
Aaron’s fingers closed around his knee, holding it firmly in place. His grip was so sure that Rick immediately realized there was no way to pull away without the others noticing.
Rick stopped resisting and let Aaron draw his leg closer to his own, hoping that would be the end of it.
But the hand never left his knee.
“Billy, why are you sitting there looking so serious again?” Julie sighed, glancing at her brother. “Can’t you forget about work for once, at least over Christmas dinner?”
“I’m not thinking about work right now.”
“Of course. And you staying late every night is just a coincidence?” Julie narrowed her eyes. “You’re supposed to get days off, you know. Or has management decided you have to do the work of three people?”
“We’re just… going through a busy period,” he muttered, idly rolling a piece of meat around with his fork.
“He’s always going through a busy period,” Renata remarked, winking at Julie. “I think someone needs to explain to him what a vacation is.”
“Right. Before he forgets the word even exists,” Julie added.
Grandma laughed.
“Billy, she’s right. Even the most important things can wait at Christmas.”
“Mr. Lake,” Renata turned to Aaron and Rick. “He’s entitled to vacation time, isn’t he?”
Rick flinched at the words “Mr. Lake.”
Aaron, however, looked perfectly calm. He simply listened to the conversation, his hand still resting on Rick’s knee.
“Of course he is,” he replied. “It’s just impossible to get him out of the office. He’s always the last one to leave. But that only shows how hardworking he is. And talented. You’ll see, he’ll go far.”
“Thank you, Detective,” Billy said, embarrassed, clearly not expecting such praise. “At least someone understands me…”
“Ha!” Julie clicked her tongue. “You’re just sticking up for each other because you both work too much. Billy told me you stay at the office until the very end, too!”
“Perhaps,” Aaron agreed mildly.
At that very moment, his long fingers began to stroke the inside of Rick’s knee. Slowly, carefully, as though Aaron were testing how far he could go before Rick gave himself away.
Rick nearly choked on air.
Julie glanced at him.
“Rick? Are you all right?”
“Yes!” he answered far too quickly. “I’m fine!”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn’t press him, turning back to Billy and Renata.
Aaron continued listening to the conversation, giving no indication that he was paying any attention to what was happening beneath the table. Only the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
Rick immediately glanced sideways at him.
“You little…”There he sat, looking utterly unruffled, as if he hadn’t nearly made Rick forget how to breathe just seconds ago.
Beneath the table, Aaron’s hand moved higher, toward the inside of Rick’s thigh. Rick tensed and shot him a warning look, but Aaron didn’t even turn his head.
Rick drew in a sharp breath.
Aaron stopped.
Only for a moment, but Rick noticed his fingers shift slightly, as though he were listening for a reaction. Then the light touch returned, a little higher than before.
“A-Ju, leave your brother alone and let him enjoy his meal,” Grandma said, pushing a platter of meat toward him.
“Grandma, I’m looking out for him!” Julie protested. “Someone has to remind him that there’s a life outside the precinct, too.”
“If you took as much care of your own sleep schedule as you do mine, I might believe you,” Billy
muttered.
Renata laughed softly and reached for her champagne glass.
“By the way, Rick, have you had Mrs. Hong’s cooking before?” she asked. “Or is this your first time trying her famous pork?”
Rick tightened his grip on his fork and forced himself to look up.
“First time,” he admitted. “And now I understand why Billy talks about his grandmother so much. There are so many delicious dishes here.”
“Oh, Rick, this is hardly anything,” Grandma said, waving a hand. “I told you I should have made more.”
Beneath the table, Aaron’s fingers slowly traced the inside of Rick’s thigh again, then came to a stop.
Rick stared down at his plate, doing his best to follow the conversation. He was suddenly feeling rather warm. Apparently, Aaron had drawn his own conclusions, too: Rick felt him gently stroking his thigh through the fabric of his trousers.
The touch was so pleasant that Rick closed his eyes for a moment. A wave of heat spread through him, especially intense low in his stomach. His breath caught briefly, and he leaned almost imperceptibly into the hand before he could stop himself.
And immediately realized he’d made a mistake.
Aaron’s fingers moved a little higher.
Rick swallowed and slowly turned his head. Aaron met his gaze with such an innocent expression that Rick wanted to kick him under the table.
So he did.
Aaron merely raised an eyebrow and returned to his dinner.
Rick nearly groaned in frustration.
Aaron’s hand continued to caress him almost imperceptibly through the fabric of his trousers, making slow, circular motions. Then, unexpectedly, he tightened his grip on the fabric, making Rick flinch. A shiver ran from his lower back to the nape of his neck, and his back arched of its own accord.
He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself against the sudden rush of arousal, but forced them open again almost immediately. He had to bite his lip to keep from giving himself away.
But as soon as Aaron’s fingers slowly traced the inside of his thigh again, Rick tensed involuntarily, barely managing to keep himself from moving once more. This time, he realized his own reaction too late.
Aaron already knew what he’d found. And now, without changing his expression or missing a beat in the conversation around the table, he repeated the touch, a little higher than before.
“Fuck!”Rick exhaled through his teeth. Too sharply, too audibly.
“Mr. Lake, do you enjoy working as a detective?” Julie asked, turning to Aaron. “I mean, you investigate real crimes. Is it completely different from what they show in TV series?”
“Sometimes it’s similar,” Aaron replied, continuing to tease Rick discreetly beneath the table. “But in real life, investigations usually take much longer. And they rarely wrap up as quickly as they do on screen.”
“Did you always know you wanted to become a detective?”
“No. At first, I was planning to go to law school. I wanted to become a lawyer.”
“Seriously?! I want to study law, too!” Julie leaned forward. “Why did you change your mind?”
“Life had other plans.”
He spoke so casually, as though he really were engrossed in the conversation. Rick clutched his napkin and tried to focus on what they were saying rather than the growing, pulsing sensation between his legs.
“Do you ever get scared?” Julie continued. “When you have to deal with dangerous criminals?”
“I do,” Aaron replied after a brief pause. “Fear helps you remember to be careful. The important thing is not to let it make your decisions for you.”
Julie listened, holding her breath.
“That’s so cool…”
“Julie,” Billy muttered, “weren’t you just talking about how important it is to take a break from work? And now you’re interviewing the detective over dinner.”
“I’m just asking questions!”
“Of course,” he smirked. “Looking out for him, too?”
“Shut up!”
“A-Ju,” Grandma interjected, shaking her head.
Renata laughed quietly.
Rick tried to smile, too, but at that moment Aaron pressed his thigh a little more firmly against his
own.
The pulsing low in Rick’s stomach grew stronger. Only now did he realize just how badly his legs were trembling. His thigh muscles kept tensing and involuntarily relaxing, and with each new wave of arousal, the trembling became more noticeable. He was getting hot. He wanted to loosen his collar and take a deep breath, but even that might draw unwanted attention.
He tried to move his leg away again, even if only by a fraction of an inch. Aaron caught the movement and shifted his hand a little higher, touching a particularly sensitive spot on the inside of Rick’s thigh. Rick drew in a sharp breath and glanced at him.
Aaron met his eyes. The faintest hint of a smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth before he turned back to Julie, continuing to answer her questions as though nothing had happened.
Rick looked away, his fingers tightening around the napkin.
He was the one who had started this game in the kitchen. He was the one who had decided to tease Aaron and see how far he could go. But back then, he’d thought he could stay in control. That he could stop at any moment if things got too risky.
Now he was sitting at the Christmas table, trying to hide the trembling in his legs, and realizing that he didn't want Aaron to stop at all.
What was happening was turning him on like crazy.
The man he loved, the man he trusted, the man he could allow himself to do things with that he would never let anyone else do.
The only problem was that keeping a straight face was becoming increasingly difficult. His cheeks and ears were burning, and he was afraid to even open his mouth in case he accidentally gave himself away.
He had no idea how much longer he could sit there pretending nothing was happening.
When Aaron’s fingers slowly slid higher and stopped right at his groin, a jolt shot through Rick. His legs began to tremble. His nipples hardened beneath his sweater. For a second, it was as though sparks had flashed before his eyes, and everything else — the conversation, the clinking of dishes, Julie’s laughter — faded into the background.
He crumpled the napkin in his fist and tried to concentrate on what Renata was saying, but her words blurred into an indistinct hum. The touch felt far too good. And worst of all, Rick had leaned almost imperceptibly toward Aaron’s fingers himself, hoping to feel it again.
Rick couldn't sit like this anymore. He needed to find some way to hide his arousal, so he carefully crossed his legs.
And immediately realized what a mistake he'd made. In moving, he'd accidentally pressed Aaron’s hand against his groin.
For a moment, they both froze.
Rick slowly turned his head. Aaron was already looking at him. The gray-blue eyes no longer held their earlier composure. His gaze had darkened, and his jaw had tightened ever so slightly.
Rick knew what Aaron had felt beneath his palm. And Aaron knew that Rick understood.
Rick swallowed. His heart was beating so hard he was afraid the others might hear it.
He abruptly pushed his chair back. Its legs scraped unpleasantly across the floor, and the conversation around the table fell silent for a moment.
“What’s wrong?” Billy asked.
Rick smoothed out the crumpled napkin, discreetly trying to cover himself.
“I… I need a smoke. Get some air. It’s just really hot in here and…”
He looked at Aaron again — and immediately regretted it.
Aaron was still watching him. He was no longer smiling or trying to stop him. Only the fingers resting beside his plate slowly curled into a fist, then relaxed.
Rick turned and hurried toward the exit, mumbling something incoherent as he went, without looking at anyone.
“Rick, are you sure you’re all right?” Grandma called after him.
“Yes! I’m fine!” he blurted without turning around. “It’s just… hot!”
He practically stumbled out of the dining room and disappeared through the door.
Julie watched him leave with a puzzled expression, then looked at Aaron.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Aaron reached for his glass after a brief pause.
“I think he needs some fresh air.”
“Well, all right…” Julie shrugged, though the curiosity hadn't left her face. “I hope he comes back soon. We haven’t even sung yet!”
“Julie, let the man get some air in peace,” Grandma chided her.
“What did I do? Nothing! He’s just going to miss dessert.”
“It’s too early for dessert, A-Ju!” Grandma began clearing the extra dishes from the table. “The guests haven’t even finished eating!”
“Grandma! What do you mean, they haven’t finished?” Julie got up and began helping her. “They can barely sit at the table as it is! If you stuff them with anything else, I’m afraid no one will have room for my dessert. Look, Rick’s already run off because you fed him too much!”
Grandma went over to the cupboard and took out some clean plates.
“A man needs to eat plenty to be strong like A-Bi.”
“Oh, God…” Billy ran a hand over his face.
“Fine, fine. I’m not arguing with you,” Julie muttered, carrying the dirty plates into the kitchen.
Billy glanced at Aaron, whose cheeks had turned slightly pink, then looked over at Renata. She was watching everything with interest.
“Sorry about all this,” he whispered awkwardly.
“For what?” Renata asked, genuinely surprised. “Your family is wonderful.”
Billy gave her a small smile but didn't reply.
A little later, Julie returned to the dining room and cheerfully announced:
“And now, I declare a musical intermission! Rick was right. We need to take a breather if we don’t want to burst.”
“No, no, no. Anything but that,” Billy groaned.
Julie put on some dance music and, passing Grandma, grabbed her by the hands.
“Come on, Grandma! Show us how it’s done!”
“Oh, children…” Grandma muttered, but a second later she let her granddaughter whirl her around in the middle of the room.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Julie declared. “And now, karaoke!”
At the word, Billy quickly turned to Renata.
“Run while we still can!”
“Where to?” she laughed.
“Anywhere away from the microphone.”
He took her hand and led her out of the dining room. At the doorway, Billy paused for a moment to let Renata go ahead. The heaviness was still there in his chest, and smiling was harder than he wanted to let on. But Renata was beside him now, Julie’s laughter rang out behind them, and Grandma was already shouting something after them.
For a few minutes, that was enough.
The door closed behind them, and the noise from the dining room grew quieter.
Billy exhaled and leaned back against the door. After the music, laughter, and endless conversation, the silence felt unfamiliar. Julie’s voice could still be heard through the wall, animatedly explaining something to Grandma.
“Do you think they’ll notice we’re gone?” Renata asked.
“Well, Grandma’s made it to karaoke. She won’t notice anything for the next half hour.”
“What about Mr. Lake? Are you sure it’s okay to leave him in there?”
“If the detective can handle Rick’s antics, he’ll survive Grandma’s enthusiasm.”
Renata giggled and walked farther into the room.
Billy pushed himself away from the door, but it was too late. She had already stopped beside his bed.
The blanket was bunched up at the very edge, the pillow lay crosswise, and the sheet was creased. He looked at the bed, then at his arm in its cast, and quietly swore under his breath.
“Shit, wait… I’ll fix it.”
He walked over to the bed and reached for the blanket with his good hand. The fabric slipped onto the floor.
“Billy, leave it.”
“I can manage.”
He hooked his fingers under the edge of the blanket and tried to toss it back onto the bed. All he managed to do was crumple it even more.
Renata bit her lip to keep from smiling.
“Are you going to beat the blanket, or is it going to beat you?”
“Very funny.”
“I’m serious. I think it’s winning so far.”
Billy shot her an annoyed look, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
Renata stepped closer and, without another word, took hold of the other end. Together, they straightened the blanket.
“There,” she said, adjusting the pillow. “Perfect.”
“Sorry about the mess.”
“Billy, it’s a bed. People sleep in it. They don’t enter it in beauty contests.”
“I know, but…”
He trailed off, unable to come up with a suitable explanation.
Renata looked at him, then glanced around the room. An open notebook and several sheets covered in notes lay on the desk, with a mug beside them. Aaron’s hoodie hung over the back of the chair, and a stack of books stood against the wall.
She walked over to the desk and glanced into the notebook curiously. Her eyes immediately caught on a few hastily scribbled lines:
Coop Mark Cooper and Caroline Thompson? Sawmill. Van. What does Sarah Green have to do with this?Renata went still. She carefully touched her best friend’s name with her fingertips.
“You’re still working even at home?” she asked a little more quietly. “I thought you were on medical leave.”
“I’m not working. It’s just… something to do.”
“Billy, you’re supposed to be resting. You’re on strong painkillers.”
He said nothing.
Renata turned the page but didn't read any further. Instead, she looked at the framed photograph standing beside the lamp.
“Is that you and Julie?”
Billy quietly came up beside her.
“Yeah. I was about twelve, Julie was seven. She was trying to teach me how to ride a bike back then.”
“And how did that go?”
“I learned. And she got in trouble with Grandma for letting me ride down a hill.”
Renata smiled as she studied the picture.
“You look so young here.”
“We’re still kids, if you ask Grandma.”
“Well, I have to agree with her on that.”
“Hey!”
She smiled and turned toward him. Her gaze lingered on his cast for a moment before rising to his face.
“But seriously,” she said more softly, “how are you feeling?”
Billy looked away.
“Fine.”
Renata watched him for a little longer, then took his good hand in hers. She gently brushed her thumb over his exposed fingers.
“You know you don’t have to pretend with me, right?”
“I’m not pretending.”
“Of course you’re not.”
Billy lowered his head. He didn't want to lie to her, but he still couldn't explain what was happening to him.
He carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. Renata sat beside him, turning to face him.
They were silent for a while. A burst of Julie’s laughter came from the dining room, followed by Grandma’s voice, indignantly telling her not to pester Mr. Lake with questions.
Billy couldn't help smiling.
“Told you he’d manage.”
“I like it,” Renata said. “It’s never boring at your house.”
“Yeah, but sometimes you just want some peace and quiet.”
“I can understand that.”
She leaned her shoulder against his and gently laced their fingers together.
Billy looked down at their joined hands and ran his thumb across her palm.
“I’m sorry I’ve been a little… off today.”
Renata tilted her head slightly and looked into his eyes.
“You don’t have to apologize to me for anything,” she said softly.
Billy tightened his fingers around hers a little. His gaze dropped to her lips.
Renata noticed, but before she could say anything, Billy leaned in and gently brushed his lips against hers.
She kissed him back at once. Her hand settled carefully against his neck, her fingers slipping into his hair.
Billy placed his right hand on her waist and drew her closer. Renata didn't resist. Quite the opposite. Without breaking the kiss, she shifted slightly, smiled against his lips, and deftly settled herself on his lap.
The kiss grew deeper. Billy pulled her close, forgetting for a few seconds everything that had been going around in his head. The vanilla scent of her hair mingled with his cologne.
“You know, I actually prepared something special for you,” she whispered against his lips.
“Really?” Billy raised his eyebrows with interest.
“Mhm. Close your eyes.”
He obediently shut them, hearing the faint rustle of fabric.
“You can open them now,” she said softly.
Billy opened his eyes and froze. Renata was sitting on his lap without her sweater, wearing a lace bra that accentuated her small breasts. The deep burgundy color complemented her warm brown skin, and her lips were still red from their kisses.
“W-wow…” he breathed softly. “You’re incredibly beautiful…”
“So, what do you think of the surprise?” she asked, leaning a little closer.
Billy couldn't help smiling back.
“I love it.”
His gaze traveled over her face, lingered on her lips, then returned to her eyes. His hand settled on her waist, and for a moment it seemed he was about to pull her closer.
But his smile gradually faded. His eyes caught on the color of her lingerie. Deep burgundy. Almost scarlet. The same color that had spread across the snow that day. Billy lowered his eyes and turned away.
Renata immediately noticed the change in his expression. His smile disappeared, his gaze went dull.
She gently touched his cheek.
“Billy? Hey, look at me.”
