Crochet My Heart

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About the Author

By Carol Pedroso

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Crochet My Heart

By Carol Pedroso

Accountant Tristan plans to make a ton of crochet items for his local LGBT charity to sell at their holiday fair. His only problem? He can’t crochet.

Fortunately the community center offers a class, and it’s taught by Charlie, who is gorgeous and sexy and seems interested. At first. Can grandmotherly fellow classmate Ivy guide the clueless men to each other, or will it take something more serious to help them see the possibilities?

Happy Holidays to lovers everywhere.

TRISTAN YELLED and threw the offending item across the room. Yarn streamed through the air, and the crochet hook clattered against the wall before falling to the floor.

He would never make his deadline at this rate. He’d promised Fran he would fill at least half a six-foot table with handmade items. What was he going to do? He couldn’t sew, he couldn’t carve wood, and now it seemed he couldn’t crochet.

How hard could it be? His grandmother had produced lots of crocheted items right until her illness made her unable to hold the hook. She could make a stuffed toy in the time it took him to finish telling her about a bad day he was having at school. It never failed to cheer him up.

He grabbed a cushion to muffle the next yell he could feel building up. He didn’t want the neighbors wondering what he was doing. He then realized the cushion was a crocheted one his gran had given him, and his mood plummeted even further. He missed her a lot, more so now when he really needed her help.

He grabbed his phone and hit speed dial.

Hey, sis, he humphed as soon as the line connected. I need some help.

Lisa’s laugh echoed in his ear, making him scowl. I’ve been saying that for years, Tris.

Har, har, he replied.

Fine, she drawled. What can I do for you, brother dear?

Tristan pushed down his irritation—he did need her help, after all. I need to make a collection of crocheted items for a charity Christmas craft sale. It’s in aid of an LGBT charity that supports youth who are thrown out of their homes by their parents; the building they’re using is falling apart and is in need of urgent repairs. I tried using some of gran’s old patterns, but I didn’t know what all the letters and symbols meant. So I tried using the internet, but the videos play too fast, and I can’t keep up. What am I going to do? I only have a little over six weeks. Are you laughing?

Lisa’s chuckling trailed off, and it was a few moments before she answered. So let me get this straight. You have agreed to cover half a stall with crocheted items when you don’t know how to crochet?

Tristan felt his face heat and was glad they were on the phone and not face-to-face. Well, Gran made it look so easy. And with the internet I thought I should be able to make simple things fairly quickly. Even he could hear the plaintive quality to his voice, but he couldn’t help it. How could it be so hard to use one slim piece of metal to make a simple square?

You’re in luck. I may be able to help you.

It took him a moment to realize what Lisa had said. You can? How? Do you know how to crochet? Could you make the things for me to sell on the stall?

No, I can’t crochet—or knit, before you ask. And no, I can’t make anything for you to sell. But I may know someone who can help. I’ll tell you what. Give me ten minutes, and I’ll call you back.

Before Tristan could answer, the phone went silent, and he realized she’d hung up.

He gave a huff and headed for the kitchen. He turned the coffee machine on, wishing he had something stronger to put in it once it was brewed.

He was doctoring his coffee with cream and sugar when his phone started vibrating its way across the counter. A picture of Lisa and him flashed on the screen, a selfie they’d taken on a rare night out where they were both pulling silly faces. It always brought a grin to his face when he saw it.

Hey, sis. Give me some good news. He tucked the phone between his cheek and shoulder so he could sip his coffee and search the cupboards for some cookies.

"You’re lucky. Andy told me the other day about a class starting at the center