Christmas Wish for Me: A Morning Madison Male/Male Single Dad Romance Read online

  Christmas Wish for Me

  A Morning Madison Male/Male Single Dad Romance

  Copyright © and Originally Published in 2018 by Ian Finn.

  Second Edition Copyright © and Published in 2019 by Ian Finn.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This is a standalone book in the Morning Madison series.

  It can be read and understood on its own.

  But it’s best enjoyed with all the other books together,

  due to a shared setting and reoccurring characters.

  The books in the Morning Madison series by Ian Finn are:

  Sing for Me: A Morning Madison Enemies to Lovers Romance

  (Alex and Elijah’s Story)

  Forever for Us: A Morning Madison Wedding

  (Alex and Elijah’s follow-up/ bonus story)

  Click here to get it FREE!

  Play for Me: A Morning Madison Fake Fiancé Romance

  (Will and Brent’s Story)

  Return for Me: A Morning Madison Second Chance Coming Out Romance

  (Tyler and Duncan’s Story)

  Pretend for Me: A Morning Madison Fake Boyfriend Romance

  (Flynn and Wes’s Story)

  Christmas Wish for Me: A Morning Madison Male/Male Holiday Romance

  (Zach and Ryan’s Story)

  More in the Morning Madison series!

  Click here to see all books in the series

  Sign up to my newsletter to receive new release updates

  and receive Forever for Us: A Morning Madison Wedding, for free!

  It is a follow up story/ bonus epilogue to Sing for Me.

  Subscribe here and receive Forever for Us for free.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Zach

  Chapter Two

  Ryan

  Chapter Three

  Zach

  Chapter Four

  Ryan

  Chapter Five

  Zach

  Chapter Six

  Ryan

  Chapter Seven

  Ryan

  Chapter Eight

  Ryan

  Chapter Nine

  Zach

  Chapter Ten

  Ryan

  Chapter Eleven

  Ryan – Four days later

  Chapter Twelve

  Zach

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ryan

  Chapter Fourteen

  Zach

  Chapter Fifteen

  Zach

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ryan – Ten days later

  Epilogue

  Ryan – About a year later

  Newsletter Sign Up and Free Book

  Books in the Morning Madison Series

  Sneak Peek Excerpt of Sing for Me

  Sneak Peek Excerpt of Because You Came Back

  Let’s Connect

  Chapter One

  Zach

  As I make my way up the steps to the church rectory, I hesitate briefly before ringing the doorbell. I don’t want to be here. The reason for my visit today to Father Joseph is too embarrassing to think about, and it only serves as a reminder of the complete idiot I made of myself a week ago.

  Once I’m buzzed in, I take a seat in the foyer while I wait for Father Joseph. The first thing I notice is the air, and I wonder to myself why it smells so much like a church, when it’s just the priest’s residence. Do the priests take this smell with them to the church, or vice versa?

  To distract myself, and help myself forget why I’m here, I take out my phone and begin to read through some of the Morning Madison fan emails I’ve received. My inbox is flooded, which is not too unusual, especially for this time of year.

  I’m a producer of the popular TV show featuring local Madison talent, and our viewers love the Christmas season most. And it’s no wonder, as we go all out in making sure our set is as festive and adorned with all the holiday embellishments one would expect to see at a Christmas display in a Macy’s department store window.

  Many of the emails are people commenting and praising our set, and of course our host Will Davis, while others have requests for certain singers and other guests that they’d like to see on our December eighteenth Christmas special.

  While moving on to my text messages, an odd feeling suddenly comes over me… like I’m being watched. When I look up, I’m startled to see Father Joseph hovering over me as if he just appeared like an apparition.

  How did I not hear him walk up here? I wonder.

  But then I notice he’s only wearing socks. That explains it.

  “It’s very nice to see you again, Zach. Come. Come on in,” he says, in his typical soft-spoken voice and articulate delivery.

  I get up and follow him into a warm and inviting sitting area.

  “Take a seat,” he says. “Can I get you some hot tea, or a cup of coffee?”

  “I’ll take a glass of water,” I tell him, whereby he proceeds to exit the room.

  I begin going over in my mind my carefully prepared plea to him. I know that I agreed to do this charitable work, but it’s too damn boring for one. And having to return here every week is only a reminder of the stupid reason I’m here to begin with.

  When he comes back in the room, I begin.

  “Father, can’t I just pay for the broken window and be done with it? I really am sorry about what happened. There’s no excuse, and I take full responsibility. I can even make a sizable donation to the church, in addition to the cost of replacing the glass.”

  I plead to him, even though I know too well that he wants me to pay my penance in the form of charitable work around the church, rather than simply writing out a check. But I have my fingers crossed anyway that he’ll take me up on my offer. Especially now that I offered to throw in the extra cash.

  It’s funny how the almighty coin can change a person’s mind in an instant. But will it this time?

  Yes, I did throw a rock at St. Patrick’s Church, and yes, I did happen to shatter the fuck out of the stained-glass window in the front of the building.

  Why would a grown man, and respectable member of the community, do such a punk-ass, foolish prank like this, you might ask?

  Well, number one, I was shitfaced drunk when it happened. I know, not an excuse. But the real reason is that I was damn pissed off. Pissed off at Jake, my ex of ten years, who happened to get married that very day, at this very church.

  It wasn’t as if I was aiming for the gorgeous stained-glass window that’s probably been up there for the past eighty years. In fact, I wasn’t aiming at the glass at all, but the stone walls surrounding the window. And I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a lousy pitcher.

  But once it happened, there was nothing I could do. I wasn’t going to run to CVS for some glue and try to put the pieces back together.

  So, I did what any normal person would have done in that situation –– I ran like hell and hoped to God that there were no working CCTV cameras between the church and my house.

  But unfortunately, there were. And they were definitely working. So, here I sit.

  To be perfectly honest, it felt rather cathartic to see that glass shatter into a million pieces –– just like my ten-year relationship did with Jake.

  So, yeah, it was a stupid and childish thing to do. I realize that now. But it did get my mind off of Jake –– temporarily, anyway. And I’ve apologized profusely to Father Joseph and I really am sorry that I did something so destructive. It’s not who I am, or how I usually act, and I feel terrible about it.

  Upon hearing my suggestion of how to get out
of my charitable duties, Father Joseph gives me one of his downcast looks. Which can only mean one thing… get ready for what you don’t want to hear, Zach.

  He begins. “Zach, I’ve told you this already, but I really think it would be good for your conscience to work it off, rather than buying your way out of it.”

  He studies my face, and when he sees that he’s not getting past my stubbornness, he takes a different approach.

  “You’re actually getting off easy. You won’t be out any money, and your charitable work will be good for your soul. It’s a win-win for you!”

  He ends with a smile, and a determined look that says to me, and you thought I was going to make this easy on you!

  What he fails to realize is that once a week for the next three months, I have to do the humiliating walk of shame through those church doors and be reminded yet again of my juvenile conduct. Or maybe he does realize this.

  Is he trying to make me feel like a thirteen-year-old who’s just been sent to the school principal’s office? If so, he’s doing a pretty damn good job of it.

  Win­-win, he says? We have slightly different definitions of that, because a win-win for me would look something like writing a check for the damages and forgetting that this whole miserable thing ever happened.

  But how do you argue with a priest? It’s like trying to have an argument with God. He’ll always win.

  Deep down, I already knew that my fate was sealed, even before I tried to weasel my way out of it. The harder I push, the more he’s going to use his philosophical mumbo jumbo on me and try to get me to admit that writing it off is the cowardly way out. He knows full well I went to St. Patrick’s School up until eighth grade, and he’s appealing to my Catholic guilt.

  As if priests haven’t mastered the fine art of inducing guilt.

  At one point, I actually thought of simply not showing up, and instead slipping a check in the mail. With, of course, an added tip in addition to the amount that it would cost to fix the window. But I’ve never done something that reprehensible before, and I know I couldn’t live with myself if I did.

  Besides, my parents go to this church, and I’d spend the rest of my life walking around Madison with a scarlet letter across my chest. My epitaph would read, that sad man who desecrated our Church.

  If only the work that he has me doing wasn’t so dreadfully boring. It’s stuff like unstacking pamphlets and putting them into the hymnals, tidying up, and counting the donation money, stuffing the dollars into envelopes and rolling the coins and then taking it all to the bank to deposit. Nothing exciting at all.

  I know I’m being a big cry baby about all of this, but I’m not myself since Jake and I broke up. We tried parting ways amicably and said we were going to remain friends. But that’s easier said than done.

  I just can’t get over how easy it was for him to break it off with me after that many years. I really wasn’t prepared for the brutal fallout, nor for the after effects.

  And before you know it, he’s married again! Talk about a slap in the face. Now I’m alone, and it’s Christmas time, and I think I have every right to be a grumpy old scrooge.

  “Alright Father,” I finally concede, “What do you want me to do today?”

  I’m about to get up and follow him to the church to find out what menial tasks he has for me, but instead, he asks me, “Zach, you know I’ve been watching Morning Madison, and I love the segment you have that features new musicians. And then I wondered to myself –– does Zach Taylor have any musical talent, by any chance?”

  Thanks for talking about me like I’m not even here.

  My expression must have just turned from one of resignation, thinking of how I’ll be sweeping floors or counting pennies for the next three hours, to why the fuck is he asking me this?

  Why would he be wondering why I’m not featured on the show? Or is he like everyone else who wants a shot in show business, and it’s merely his roundabout way of hitting me up to be on the show himself?

  I can just picture it now. Father Joseph’s last stab at musical stardom, via Morning Madison, as a duet with the show’s producer, Zack Taylor.

  “Uhh, yes I do, Father. Why do you want to know?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer.

  But he’s definitely up to something, and tries to remain innocent about all of it when he asks me, “So do you sing, play instruments, what?”

  Being Morning Madison’s producer, I know all too well when I’m being hit up for a favor of some sort. Now, I never thought I’d actually be hit up for a favor by a priest, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

  “Yeah, I can play a few instruments. I play the piano, and some cello, but I’m a bit rusty. I was in the orchestra in high school, too,” I say.

  When he hears this, his face lights up. “Can you conduct an orchestra or a choir?”

  “Yeah, I’ve done…”

  I stop, now realizing that my quick response was a trap that I walked right into.

  But Father Joseph is no fool, and that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

  “That’s great!” he exclaims.

  How did I fall for it?

  Just seconds ago, I knew he was up to something, and yet, I took the bait. I fell right into his devious little trick. And I already know what he’s going to ask me to do next.

  So, he continues. “You see, Zach, St. Patrick’s runs a choir program for orphans and foster children in the city. Our Christmas concert is coming up, and our usual choir director is laid up in the hospital with a bad back, after a horrific car accident. We don’t know what to do, and we don’t want to disappoint the children.”

  Did he just say children?

  Twice?

  Then, he motions with his arm and asks me to follow him into the parish. While looking down and watching his robe sway back and forth along the way, I think to myself, did I just agree to run a children’s choir? But I didn’t agree to anything…

  Then I remember why I’m here and I realize that if I want to get out of this whole thing without a guilty conscience, I have to do what Father Joseph wants.

  He leads me into a room that looks like it doubles as a cafeteria and a band room. And inside are about twenty or so little boys who are running around and generally acting like… well, like crazy little boys.

  Father announces to them, “Children, I’d like to introduce to you Zach Taylor from Morning Madison. He’ll be your new choir director until Mr. Gonzales gets better.”

  I’m stunned, and silent, as I watch the kids. I’m about to open my mouth to protest, but I’m at a loss for words. I then turn to Father Joseph and ask if we can step outside the room for a minute.

  “What is it, Zach?” he asks, all innocently, and seemingly concerned.

  “Father, I’m not opposed to children, but I have no experience with them. I don’t even have that much experience conducting a choir, let alone a choir of children,” I say, making my plea.

  He crosses his arms, looking off in the distance.

  Then he smiles, before telling me, “Oh, nonsense, Zach. I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be great at this.”

  Then he turns his head, looking into the room of kids, and really throws on the melodrama.

  “Just look at them… their concert is in three weeks and they’ll be heartbroken if they won’t be able to perform,” he says, turning to me for my reaction.

  I peek my head into the room again. I already have a headache from the screeching and fighting that’s going on between the little brats.

  But what kind of person would I be if I just flat out refused to do it? And left?

  He knows I’m not that person, and that’s why he so shrewdly maneuvered me into this. He knows I’m the kind of person who can’t say no.

  How soon I forget. This is not a negotiation, Zach.

  “So, when do you want me to start?” I ask, without even attempting to feign interest or enthusiasm.

  And of course, he’s all smiles now, beca
use he accomplished what he set out to do. Not that he ever doubted for a second that he wouldn’t.

  “Ah, I knew you’d want to do this, Zach!” he says, with a renewed energy.

  Then I think to myself, I’m the fool who got myself into this mess in the first place.

  I just need to suck it up, and do my penance like the good Catholic boy I am. And it’s Christmastime, so I’d better try and get over my shitty attitude. Like right now!

  Chapter Two

  Ryan

  I’m on the phone with the caterers when my first customers of the day come into my store.

  When he hears the bells of the door jingle, my seven-year-old son, Eli, immediately jumps off the counter and goes to greet the two men who’ve just walked in.

  “I’ll be right with you,” I call out to the cute guys, as I try and wrap up the conversation I’m having.

  Madison Music Center has only been open for three days, and I’m talking to the caterer about which appetizers and finger foods would be best for my grand opening two weeks from Saturday. I’m super excited about the opening, and I want to make a good impression on the Madison community, and future customers.

  It’s been a dream of mine to have my own music store, and it took getting a separation from my husband of nine years and a move back to my hometown of Madison, to finally get up the courage to do it.

  I ask the caterer if I can call them back, and then I hang up the phone.

  “Eli! Come here!” I say, as I chase after him.

  “I’m sorry, I hope he’s not bothering you. How can I help you guys today?” I say, as I approach the men.

  Both guys look younger than me by probably five years or so, and now that I’m up close, they’re both better looking than I first thought. Yum!

  Then, the slightly taller of the two says, “Oh no worries at all. He’s a really cute kid. Is that your son?”

  I take hold of my son’s hand.

  “Yes, this is Eli.”

  I smile, while looking down at him, and then turn my attention back to the men.