Free Patchouli For Christmas by Bren Christopher

but not yet. Especially since he’d tried to call and Michael hadn’t returned the call, believing a clean break was best.
    And odd as it seemed, Michael realized that no matter what the consequences might be, he didn’t regret one moment of his time with Jude. He regretted hurting him, but the memory of their night together still made Michael smile inside.
    When he stepped off the elevator and into the apartment, it was just as he’d feared. Jude was there, pulling the landscapes off the wall. He didn’t seem surprised to see Michael. His grandmother must have told him Michael was coming.
    Jude looked at him expressionlessly except for a cold glint in his eye and then turned back to his work without speaking. Michael bit his lip. He hadn’t wanted Jude this mad at him. He’d only wanted him to move on.
    Jude reached for a long beach scene. His T-shirt rode up, exposing the strip of skin above a pair of very tight jeans. Michael knew it wasn’t deliberate this time. The hardness in Jude’s eyes said he was done flirting with him.
    The landscape appeared too difficult for one person to manage. Michael worried that he might drop it on his foot. He approached Jude and reached out a hand. “Can I help you with that?” he asked awkwardly.
    “No, thanks,” Jude replied coolly. “The moving guys will help me as soon as they finish bringing my paintings up the stairs. Don’t trouble yourself.”
    Michael let his arm fall. “Okay.” Then softly—“Sorry.”
    Jude stopped. He settled the painting back onto its hook and then turned to face Michael. “I have no doubt that you can have company whenever you want it. But that doesn’t give you the right to treat a guy like crap and then just move on to the next one.”
    Michael stared at him in shock. “That’s…that’s not…” he stuttered. He felt heat creep up his neck. He knew he’d turned beet red. “You can’t think that’s why I…”
    Jude seemed to be scrutinizing him. Apparently whatever he saw answered some question he had. He stepped back. “No. I suppose not.” He resumed his work, leaving Michael reeling at the accusation. “I guess you’re just not good at anything beyond a one-night stand, like you said. So maybe you’re right. Maybe we are better off not seeing each other.”
    Then he glanced at Michael. “My grandmother is in the study. She’s expecting you.”
    Michael stood rooted to the floor, wondering how someone younger than him had learned to be so much more mature.
    Finally, he made his legs move. But as he started for the study, Jude called after him, “Wait.”
    Michael turned. For some reason his heart raced wildly. Hoping for …what? That Jude would ask him to try again? Did Michael want that?
    “I was going to ask my grandmother to give this to you, but since you’re here, you can take it.” Jude pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to Michael. “I made an appointment with the marriage counselor I told you about.”
    Michael examined the card. The handwritten date was for the next morning. “You got an appointment on Christmas Eve?”
    “The counselor did it as a favor to me. She said the sooner the better.”
    “Thank you. I’ll call them tonight, but I’m afraid they won’t go.” He sounded as hopeless as he felt.
    “Then that’s their decision. You can only help so much. They have to be willing to try.” He stared at Michael long enough to be sure that even an idiot like him could catch his meaning. Michael did and found his face warming yet again.
    Jude turned back to his paintings, and Michael headed for the office, plastering on his professional smile for Mrs. Kendrick.
    She waited on the couch. He took a seat beside her, opening the portfolio he carried. They went over the schedule for the party—the timing of the food, the music, and the speeches.
    Michael finished his notes and then nodded, putting the papers away. “I think that’s it, Mrs. Kendrick. I’ll be here early tomorrow to