Christmas Chaos: A Holiday Bonus Scene!

Christmas Chaos

A House of Misfits bonus holiday scene

Featuring Beau & Daeshim (from RED)

It’s that time of year again! Holiday bonus scene time!! This year I didn’t write a holiday novella or book, so instead I wrote a bonus scene featuring Beau & Daeshim from the first book I released this year. The book is RED and it won LGBTQIA+ Book of the Year at Utopiacon over the summer. Beau & Daeshim are two of my favorite characters of mine (right behind Trent & Drew) and I really wanted to write something for them because I missed them. PLUS, I kept getting this scene in my head where Beau gets a dog. lol. So this is what I came up with this year. I hope you enjoy this little scene (its almost 5k words) and it makes you smile!

You can read Christmas Chaos below for FREE.

I hope you have a wonderful holiday season, no matter how you celebrate (or don’t!)

Christmas Chaos

Beau

The scent of roasting chestnuts and pine swirled around the sidewalk as glowing white string lights bobbed in the winter air overhead. A small temporary wooden shack, lined with crude plastic walls, was perched in the center of long wooden racks lined with fresh-cut Christmas trees.

Pine needles and a few stray branches littered the ground as people milled about looking for the perfect tree. My baby brother, Fletcher, was in between two rows, holding up a tree that was taller than him for a couple with a little boy between them. Hanging back, I watched him slyly snatch the price tag off the tree and then say something. Without being in earshot, I knew he was telling the couple the price for the tree, which was likely far less than the actual cost. Judging by the shock on their faces, I knew I was right. The small boy clapped and jumped up and down, making his doubtful parents nod. Fletcher beamed and hefted the tree with red mitten-covered hands and carried it off to the shack for the couple to pay.

After they were gone, he would cover whatever the price difference was. It was becoming a bad secret around here that Fletcher was a bleeding heart and practically gave away trees to people here in the Grimms. Probably why the place was even busier than last year. Well, that and the fact everyone always wanted to get a look at the “lost prince” of the Upper East Side who grew up here in the ghetto but actually belonged in the richest part of New York.

He definitely didn’t need to be working at this tiny tree shack, but it was his Christmas tradition, and not even his other half would tell him he couldn’t.

“Beau!” he called, coming out of nowhere and launching himself at me before I could brace myself.

Oomph. All the breath in my lungs escaped in a white puff when he bulldozed my middle for a hug.

“Hey, Fletch,” I greeted, returning the hug.

His cheeks were pink from the cold when he pulled back, and there was a red beanie pulled over his head with a matching pompom on the end. Ethan probably picked it out.

“Did you come to get a tree?” he asked, eyes going behind me. “Where’s Daeshim?”

“He’s at the bar finishing up. He’ll be here when he’s done.”

Fletch nodded. “Well, you can’t pick a tree until he’s here.”

I didn’t even argue. There was no point. Fletcher would say something ridiculous, and even if it made no sense, I’d agree with him anyway because he’s my little brother.

“It’s your first Christmas as husbands. If you don’t pick out a tree together, then you’ll have bad luck for seven years.”

See?

“That’s not a thing,” I told him.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Go ahead and don’t listen. You’ll find out the hard way.”

I suppressed a laugh. “I’ll just wait for Shim.”

Fletcher seemed very relieved, and my suppressed laughter slipped out.

“Want some hot chocolate? Maybe some roasted chestnuts?” I offered. “I’ll get us some while I wait.”

He brightened. “There’s a hot dog stand here this year too,” he said, pointing over toward the roasted nut cart. Not too far away was the hot dog trolley. “The cart masters have been glaring at each other all night like it’s some turf war. They’re Scrooges.”

“Cart masters?” I repeated.

Fletch kept on going as though I hadn’t even talked. “So maybe get something from each cart. You know, so they don’t get into a brawl. That’s not very Christmas spirity.”

“Right.”

“Can I have hot chocolate too?”

“Sure.”

“Fletcher!” the man running the tree stand bellowed. “I’m not paying you to stand around and look stupid!”

I stiffened and spun at the old man’s words. The second he saw me, he grimaced. “Beau,” he said. “Didn’t know that was you.”

“Obviously,” I said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be calling my brother stupid.”

The man flushed.

“You’re lucky it’s me and not one of my other brothers,” I deadpanned. “Or worse, Ethan.”

“It’s fine, Beau. You know he’s just grumpy. He doesn’t even mean it,” Fletcher muttered.

I gave him a look, and he sighed.

“Apologize,” I said, voice firm. I might not be the scariest of Fletch’s brothers, but I was married to the scariest, and everyone knew if I even frowned, Shim would cause a scene.

The man made a face.

“Better hurry,” I goaded. “My other half is due any minute.”

That got a reaction. Straightening, the old man looked at Fletcher. “Now, you know I didn’t mean it. You’re a hard worker.”

“Thanks, Mr. Holly!” Fletcher beamed. He was so easy to delight.

“I’ll be right back,” I told him. After one last warning glance at old Mr. Holly, I went toward the food carts.

“Hang these wreaths up,” the old man said when I walked away. My steps faltered, but then he said, “However you do it will be just fine.”

The hot dog cart was first, and it had a small pine wreath with a red bow hanging on the front. The scent of meat and warm bread overpowered everything else, making my stomach growl and me realize I skipped dinner. I’d been so busy working on the coding for the video game I was developing that I’d forgotten to eat.

I got in line, and it quickly became obvious the cart master, as Fletch liked to call him, was every bit the scrooge my brother declared. He scowled and mumbled and refused to make change for the person at the front of the line.

It made my stomach tighten, not because I couldn’t handle it but because I didn’t want to. Confrontation wasn’t something I enjoyed. It was a waste of energy, and while I wasn’t as filled with anxiety as I used to be, it was still there. Stupidly, I hadn’t expected to deal with attitude tonight, and its presence caught me off guard. Honestly, if Fletcher hadn’t asked for this, I’d probably just get out of line.

Instead, I waited, keeping an eye on the man serving up the food while tugging the black beanie I wore a little lower over my head and ears.

When I was almost to the front, he refused to make change again.

“Well, I’m not letting you keep the change from a twenty. So either find what I’m due or keep the order!” the customer barked back.

The cart master’s nostrils flared, making him look like an irate bull. Tufts of hair stuck out from under his hat, and his lips pursed. “You can’t do that! I already put chili on it!”

“Well, you can’t refuse to make change! I know you have it.”

The man grumbled and tossed down a pair of large metal tongs with such a loud bang I jumped. Frankly, it was embarrassing. A former FBI agent startled by a pair of tongs. Ridiculous.

He set the hot dog covered in chili to the side and reached into the apron he was wearing under his coat.

And then Christmas chaos broke loose.

Out of nowhere, a ball of fur leaped up, two big paws planting on the side of the cart, and a scraggly snout snatched the hot dog off the top.

“Hey!” the customer yelled. “That’s my dinner!”

The cart master let loose a howl, spinning toward the food moocher. In his haste, a few twenty-dollar bills fluttered out of his hands toward the person waiting for change. Instead of picking them up and handing them back, the guy snatched all the cash out of the air and took off running.

“Thief!” he roared. “Come back here!”

The dog barked and took off, knocking into the cart master who started to chase after the cash grabber. He tripped, and on his way down, he grabbed for the counter, only managing to snag the handle of the ladle sticking out of the pot of chili.

Chili went flying, and he landed on his ass.

“Oww!” he wailed, and I glanced around to see some of the hot soup splattered across his face.

The dog barked and started lapping up the chili on the ground.

A murderous look crossed the man’s face. “You!” he demanded, scrambling up to lunge toward the dog who yelped and darted across the street.

Grabbing the large tongs, he took off after the dog, cars honking, tires screeching as he pounded over the street following the mangy dog into a nearby alley.

Despite my intense hate for confrontation, I took off after them. The alley was dark compared to the street, which was lit with holiday lights, but it wasn’t hard to find the man standing off to the side snapping those fucking tongs like a weapon.

He had the cowering dog backed into a corner.

“You stupid mutt,” the man spat. “First, you steal my food. Then you make it so someone else can steal from me, knock me down, and burn me! And now I’m losing customers ‘cause I have to teach you a lesson!”

Clearly feeling threatened, the dog growled, and the man shoved the giant tongs into his face, snapping them sharply. The dog whimpered and skittered farther into the corner.

“You should be afraid,” he said, drawing his foot back to kick the hungry animal.

I moved fast, light on my feet and without making a sound. He didn’t know I was there until my hand slammed down on his shoulder and yanked.

Startled, he fell backward, the tongs clattering onto the pavement.

“What the—”

“Abusing animals is a crime,” I intoned.

He sniffed. “Oh yeah? Well, then how about I give you his punishment instead.”

I glanced at the dog still cowering in the corner. “Go on,” I told him. “Get out of here.”

When the animal started to slink past, the man lunged at it again. I caught him around the waist and bulldozed him back. He swung, and I dodged, but my fist buried right into his side.

Wheezing, he bent at the waist.

Curling my lips, I watched him huff. “Find someplace else for your cart,” I spat and then turned to walk away.

I’d made it a few steps when he tackled me from behind. We both went down, my chin hitting the cold, unforgiving pavement. I grunted with the sting, but all my training kicked in, and I started to roll. Cold air slapped me in the side of the head when my beanie was ripped away and fingers jammed into my red strands to yank.

I grunted in pain and started to surge up again. This guy had probably a good sixty pounds on me, but I was agile and could fight him off. A menacing growl cut through the dark, and the dog I thought ran off shot out from the shadows, plowing into the man and knocking him off me.

His strangled yell was cut short in a gurgle of pain as I jumped to my feet and spun. The dog was standing over him, jaws filled with the collar of his coat.

The man slapped the dog in the side, and he let go of the coat and jumped back. I saw the smear of blood on his angry face when he lunged at the dog again, but I jumped between them, protecting the dog as he had just protected me.

“Run!” I told the dog, and we both took off as the man behind us shouted.

As we rounded the corner, I glanced down to make sure the dog was following, relieved to see him right at my side.

Before I could look back up, I collided full force with someone on the sidewalk, my entire body bouncing back. I didn’t fall, though, because he grabbed the front of my coat and hauled me back up.

“I’m sorry, I—” My heart was pounding hard, my stomach knotted tight.

“Red.”

My eyes fired to the man I’d body-checked, the man still holding on to my coat. “Shim?”

His midnight eyes narrowed into half-moons. “What’s wrong?” His assessing stare moved over me, snagging on my chin. “Is that blood?”

Oh shit.

His eyes glinted. The wolf living inside him, the wolf I loved so much, rose within him as a growl built deep in his throat.

“Shim—” I started, but my explanation cut off when the asshole from the alley came around the corner.

Snap, snap, snap!

And oh goodie, he brought his tongs. “You!” He threatened.

I tensed, and Shim growled. How a man could make such an animalistic sound, I would never know. But also, it was so good. All the tension and alarm in me drained away, his ire replacing it with absolute relief.

He moved lithely, pushing me behind him and stepping forward like the formidable opponent he was. At his sides, his hands curled into loose fists, feet planted solidly on the ground.

Hot dog man faltered, the tongs in his lowering to his side. “Daeshim,” he croaked.

It didn’t surprise me at all that this man knew Shim. Everyone in the Grimms knew him in one way or another. He was just as well-known and feared as our brother Earth.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I, ah…” He started, then shifted so he could look around Shim toward me, his eyes zeroing in on my ginger hair. “Beau,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“Don’t look at him,” Daeshim snapped, shifting so I was hidden behind him once more.

Daeshim glanced over his shoulder at me. “He the reason you’re bleeding?”

“Now wait just one damn minute.” A slight tone of panic muddied his voice. “He came at me. I was just defending myself!”

The dog still hovered nearby, having stopped running the second I did. And almost as if the animal knew I was getting blamed, he came forward and pushed his cold nose into my hand. I jolted and looked down. Up until now, I really hadn’t gotten a good look at him. He was a medium-sized dog, lanky and plainly underweight. He was covered in overgrown light-colored hair that definitely needed a good brushing and cut away from his brown eyes. It was those brown eyes that made a lump form in my throat. They were expressive, more expressive than I expected a dog’s eyes to be. They were almost apologetic that I’d gotten caught up in the trouble he caused.

I patted his head. “It’s okay, boy. You were just hungry.”

“He stole food from me!” the man roared. “He’s nothing but a useless mutt!”

I stiffened, body straightening even as I kept my fingers on his furry head. Shim glanced between me and the dog, then sighed. The second he turned back, the air around him turned colder than the winter.

“You attacked my husband and our dog?”

My heart swelled, the emotion hitting so fast that I could barely stay upright. Instead of trying, I sank into a crouch beside the dog. “Hey, buddy. Welcome home.”

The dog licked my busted chin.

“Don’t let him lick your open cuts,” Shim deadpanned, and my eyes fired up, expecting to find him watching us, but he wasn’t. He was still tense and facing off with the hot dog man.

I didn’t even ponder how he knew what was going on. Shim had a sixth sense when it came to me. The wolf sense. How else would he have known without even so much as one word that this dog was mine now?

No. Not mine. Ours.

“That mangy beast stole a chili dog right off my cart, then knocked me on my ass!” The man paused. “Wait, did you say your dog?”

“Mm.” Shim agreed.

I could hear the man swallow from all the way over here.

“Well, your dog stole from me, and then he—” His tongs jabbed in my direction.

“Stupid tongs,” I muttered.

Shim moved fast, snatching them out of his hand and throwing them into the street where they were promptly run over by a truck.

“Hey—” The yell was strangled when Shim grabbed the man by the front of the coat, yanking him in.

“I don’t give one flying fuck what you think my husband did to you. You know why? ‘Cause I don’t care. He could kill you right here under all these Christmas lights, and I wouldn’t bat an eye because if he’s doing it, then you deserve it. But that blood on his face?” Shim’s shoulders moved under the weight of his indrawn breath. “That really pisses me off.”

“But I didn’t—I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was him. I didn’t.”

Slam! Daeshim’s fist plowed right into the man’s mouth, cutting off his whimpering excuses. The man slapped onto the pavement with a groan.

Daeshim bent down, grabbing the front of the man’s coat and hauling his upper body off the pavement, and clobbered him again.

“Shim,” I said quietly, having no qualms about reaching out to touch him. He might be pissed as hell, but he’d never hurt me.

Daeshim paused in delivering another hit to stare at me from the corner of his eye.

“It’s Christmas,” I said.

He made a face but let the man fall into a heap at his feet. “You’re lucky I’m in the Christmas spirit,” he spat. “Get the hell out of my sight. You aren’t allowed in the Grimms no more.”

“But my cart—” He started to protest, but I cut him off.

“Is near the tree stand where our little brother is working.”

Daeshim grunted. “You ever look at my husband, his brother, or our dog ever again and it won’t matter what time of year it is. I’ll take you out.”

He got up and ran away, cars screeching and honking around his mad dash across the street to collect his cart.

When he was gone, Daeshim rotated to face me. “I leave you alone for ten minutes, Red.”

“I was just trying to buy Fletcher a hot dog,” I whined. Beside me, the dog whined too. I patted him on the head.

Shim glanced down. “Whose dog is that?”

I made a sound in my throat, my mouth moving without sound. Finally, I said, “But you said he was ours.”

“He is,” he said simply. “But where did you get him?”

“Did you think I just took him from someone?”

He shrugged. “I don’t care if you did, but I need to know if anyone else is coming at you because of it.”

I really shouldn’t find it romantic that he would let me steal a dog from someone and then protect me for it. But I did. I so did.

“You worked for a really long time today.” The words slid out before I could think twice. It happened a lot around Shim. He somehow lowered all my defenses and coaxed out all my vulnerabilities. My never-ending neediness for him.

A singsong croon vibrated his throat, and he pulled me into his chest. I went eagerly, ignoring the fact we were on a street in the Grimms. I pushed my nose into the side of his throat, inhaling his familiar scent.

“I know, baby.” His voice was a deep caress. “I’m sorry. We were out of ale at the bar. I had to get some bottled and more brewing.” His hand slid up the back of my neck, delving into my hair to palm the back of my head. “Your head is freezing. Where the hell is your hat?”

“That guy knocked it off.”

An aggressive, angry sound ripped out of him as he pulled away, upper body rotating toward where the man ran off to.

“Shim.”

His eyes snapped back around, the glare softening into a look he only ever wore for me. Reaching up, he tugged the beanie off his head and pulled it down over mine. The long dark strands of his hair blew around, brushing against his cheek. It was the longest I’d ever seen it, and the way the rumpled near-black strands fell around his face never stopped being sexy.

“It’s warm,” I murmured, sighing a little as heat seeped into the tips of my ears.

Leaning in, he caught my lips with his, kissing until all thought evaporated from my busy mind.

The dog pushed himself between us, making a rumbling sound. Daeshim pulled back slowly, eyes going to the dog who was staring at him warily.

“He’s protective of you,” Shim murmured.

“He bit that guy in the alley when he knocked me down.”

His eyes flashed up to my chin. “Show me.”

My stomach flipped, and I lifted it instantly, more so baring the long column of my throat to him than showing him the scrape on my chin.

His eyes went to my neck instantly, dilating a bit before darkening with desire. Leaning in, he kissed my Adam’s apple, then licked over the side of my throat. I whimpered, shifting closer, and he rumbled with pleasure.

After another quick kiss on my neck, he pulled back to focus on my chin. “Come on. Let’s go home and clean it up.”

He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away. “We can’t! We have to get a tree. Fletch is waiting.”

“You’re bleeding. The tree can wait.”

“It’s just a scrape. I’m fine.”

He started to shake his head, but I slipped my fingers into his, brushing against the red wedding band circling his finger. “We’re already here. I want to get a tree with my husband.”

“Fine.” He gave in. I knew he would.

The dog barked.

I looked down. “You too, buddy.”

Daeshim held his hand out to the dog who came forward to sniff him lightly. Seconds later, Shim was scratching behind his ears.

“He likes you,” I said, partly surprised.

Shim half smiled. “Because you do and he trusts your instincts.”

My heart stuttered a bit. “I can really keep him?”

“You want to, don’t you?”

I found myself hesitating. Not because I didn’t want to keep him. I actually really did. It was just still hard sometimes to say what I wanted. What I liked. I was getting a lot better, especially—okay, mostly—with Shim. But it seemed getting a dog was a big want, and it made me nervous he would say no. Or worse, be mad for wanting something he might not.

He sensed it. Of course he did. And despite being a former gangster, he was patient with me. Leaning close, he said, “It’s okay, baby. Tell me.”

The dog brushed against the outside of my leg, and my head bobbed. “I want to.”

He smiled like he was proud of me and curled his hand around the nape of my neck. “You know I would never deny you,” he said, and I shivered lightly against the reassuring hold. “You gonna tell me where you got him?”

“He stole a hot dog from that man. Look at him. He’s clearly starving and homeless!” I said, pointing at my new dog. “And it’s cold outside.”

“This must be how Ethan feels,” Shim muttered, then sighed loudly. “What’s his name?”

I hadn’t thought that far. Frankly, I hadn’t really expected to come home with a dog tonight. Despite all of that, I had an immediate answer. “Buddy.”

It made a pretty good name. I’d already called him that twice anyway.

Shim groaned. “Red, you are not naming our dog after that damn elf movie you made me watch last night.”

I felt my eyes widen. “I didn’t even think of that.” Subconsciously, you totally did.

Shim made a rude noise. “Why else would the name Buddy just roll right off that tongue?”

“You like my tongue.”

Heat flared in his eyes. “You’re damn right I do. Why else would I ever agree to watch a movie about a giant elf?”

“It’s a Christmas tradition,” I muttered, feeling shy. But more than that, it was the first time I’d ever sat in a home no one could take away from me with someone who chose me as his own. The first time I’d been cuddled while a cheesy yet charming Christmas movie played on TV and a fire crackled in the fireplace that Shim had made sure he added in the building he’d bought and renovated for us. We even ate cookies that weren’t from a package but baked by our sister Virginia. It might seem insignificant to most, but to me, those were things I never thought I would have and, therefore, felt overwhelmingly meaningful.

But most of all, it was the way Shim quietly laughed at the movie he called cheesy and grumbled about watching. Even though he would never admit it, these were traditions he needed to have too.

Palming my waist, he pulled me in until my chest was flush with his. A gust of wintry air kicked up, bringing with it the scent of snow and the chestnuts across the street. “I know, baby, and that’s something you never had. So now I’ll sit through every cheesy Christmas movie you always wanted to watch but never got to. I’ll badly wrap your presents and stuff them under the tree we’re going to decorate together, and then next year, we will do it all over again.”

I puckered my lips, and he chuckled, leaning in to meet them. When he pulled away, I asked, “So… Buddy?”

Beside us, the dog barked.

My eyes widened. “See? He likes it.”

Shim rubbed a hand over the back of his head. “I can’t believe I’m letting you name our dog after an elf.”

“I love you.”

Everything about him softened, the warmth in his eyes matching that in his lips when he pressed them against my brow. “I love you too, my Red.”

Buddy barked again, and we both looked down.

“I think he’s hungry.” I worried.

“Didn’t he just eat a chili dog?”

I laughed.

“Come on,” Shim said, slipping his arm around my waist to lead us toward the tree stand. “Let’s get a tree and go home. We can stop on the way and get some dog food.”

“I was supposed to get Fletch some snacks and a hot chocolate.”

“I’ll get you some too.”

“Shim?”

Whatever he heard in my voice had him turning on the sidewalk to fully face me. Tall green pine trees were lined behind him, and the twinkling white lights glinted in his unruly dark hair.

“What, baby?”

Beneath the beanie, the tips of my ears heated, and I glanced away, suddenly feeling on the spot.

His voice was gruff when he called me back. “Eyes on me.”

My green eyes bounced between his black ones, and he waited me out, a man with no patience having it in spades for me.

Our boots bumped together when I stepped up close, my lips brushing against the shell of his ear when I leaned in. “This is already the best Christmas I ever had. And it’s all because of you.”

A low rumble deep in his throat vibrated the slim space between us. His hand came up to settle around my throat, sending a shiver of awareness and want right into my jeans. “Oh, Red, baby. I’m just getting started. I’m gonna make sure every Christmas you have from here on out is the best one ever.”

Merry Christmas from:

Beau, Daeshim, and Buddy (the dog, not the elf)

** Christmas Chaos is copyrighted material owned by Cambria Hebert of Cambria Hebert books, LLC. Copy and pasting, distributing or resale is NOT permitted. Please respect the author and do not steal her work.