by Tara Lain
Josiah patted Harper’s arm. “Look, man, I don’t know nothing about, you know, gay, but I sure think you can do better than that dude.”
“Yeah, what a loser.” Benson tapped a punch against Harper’s arm.
“Thank you.” He looked at both of them, meeting their eyes individually. “Truth is, it’s not that easy being gay in Windy Pines.”
Josiah made a rude noise. “Shit, man, I can’t even imagine. I mean, I gotta give it to you, being willing to tell people you’re gay around here. I mean, there’re a lot of guys who don’t.” He shrugged. “Well, not a lot, but some.”
Harper grinned. “Maybe if I’d known one or two, I wouldn’t have had to run off with some asshole from California.”
Benson adjusted the cap on his red hair. “So, uh, being gay’s like a thing, right? I mean not like something you do to be against God or something.” He stared at his hands.
Well holy shit, literally. Somebody actually asked the question, and it was Benson Harkness of all people.
Mama Two looked at him and her glance said, “Ball’s in your court, bucko.”
Harper chewed his lip, then said, “I really appreciate you asking that. The fact is, if you’re gay, you’re gay. Nothing you can do about it. I mean, I can decide to not have sex, just like you could.”
“Whoa!” Benson’s eyes widened, and Harper chuckled.
“Exactly. And to tell the truth, that’s pretty much what life was like for me in Windy Pines.” He shrugged. “I could stay a bachelor my whole life, but like most guys, I’d like to have a family, kids.”
“Kids?”
“Sure. I can adopt or even have a baby by a surrogate mom. But the real point is, I didn’t wake up one day and decide to defy anyone or anything. I happen to be wired differently. And to be frank, if you check out your Bible, you’ll see that Jesus didn’t say anything about being gay. Paul did, but he wasn’t Jesus, and quite frankly, neither are any of the dudes who’ve been interpreting Jesus’s words for two thousand years. Those people can rant and rave all they want about sinful lifestyles and shit, but they don’t know. They’re just expressing their limited point of view. Any gay person will tell you they were born that way. You can’t imagine a man being attracted to men, but I can’t imagine being attracted to women.” He shrugged. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get on my soapbox.”
Josiah stared at Harper with focused interest. “So if you’re born gay, then I figure how else did you get that way except God made you.”
Benson frowned at him. “You don’t think the devil’s just tempting Harper to follow his path?”
Josiah frowned intently. “Why would God give people that kind of cross to bear, man? I mean, every time you have sex, is it about making a baby? Protecting”—he raised his voice to a falsetto—“the great American family?”
Benson recoiled. “Hell no.”
“Jesus, man, you’re not even married, and you have more sex than a cage of bonobos. So what’s the difference? If Harper wants to have sex with a guy because that’s how he’s wired, why should I care? Who am I to say he can’t be happy and have a life as good as mine? Who’s he hurting?”
Benson gave Harper a side-eye look. “Just as long as he’s not trying to have sex with me.” He burst out laughing, and Josiah joined in.
Josiah punched Benson in the ribs. “You think anybody as cute as Harper would be turned on by your ugly mug?”
Harper grinned. “Thank you for the cute part. But gay guys aren’t usually interested in straight men, beyond maybe thinking they’re good-looking or something.” The words weren’t out of his mouth before they stabbed him in the heart.
Benson said, “Really?”
He managed to squeak out, “Really.”
Josiah stuck out his hand. “Thanks, Harper. I always wondered how that all worked.”
Mama Two coughed, which had to be covering a chuckle.
Harper couldn’t laugh. “Thanks for asking. Have you guys been able to get work?”
Josiah looked at Benson and shook his head. “Just some pickup jobs. My wife got work in Fayetteville, so she’s got to take the car. My truck quit running a while back, so I’m using the bus or walking until I can afford to fix it.”
Benson said, “I’m taking some training courses in computers at the tech. You know, like you told us we ought to.”
Harper nodded. “Josiah, why don’t you take some classes, too, while you’ve got this break in the action? Maybe you could ride with Benson?”
“Gotta tell you, Harper, it feel likes there’s more break than action.” He looked at Benson. “But I could give it a try.” He stood to his towering height. “Thanks again for worrying about us. Really sorry for giving you crap.” He leaned down, pulled Harper in, and gave him the world’s most awkward one-armed guy hug.
He and Benson walked toward the poolroom talking about the computer classes.
Harper sat back in his chair. “I’ve gotta confess, I never expected to have any portion of that conversation.”
“Pretty amazing. I was particularly interested in the fact that gay men are never attracted to straight men.” She sipped the last of her sweet tea with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t rub it in.”
“What’s the status of that situation? Hmm?”
“No status. He’s at home with his girlfriend.” He wiped a hand over his face, but it didn’t wipe out the pain. “I was totally kidding myself, Mama Two. And doesn’t that reveal what an idiot I am? Jesus.”
The bell on the front door jangled, and the sound of women’s voices drifted into the room, followed by a group of five women who were all members of the Windy Pines Quilting Society.
Jocelyn Monroe, the oldest member of the group at nearly ninety, squealed, “Oh my Lord, look, it’s Harper.” She rushed across the room and gave him a hug. “I’m so glad to see you home. We’ve missed you something awful. Your mama too.” She looked up and flashed her dimples. “Maybe I should say your mama and your Mama Two too.” She laughed at her own joke.
He grinned as the other women descended on him.
“Hi, Harper.”
“Welcome home, dear.”
Jocelyn pulled a young woman with dark hair out of the pack. “Harper, this here is Wendy. She’s new to Windy Pines.”
Wendy stuck out a hand revealing a sleeve of tattoos under her T-shirt. “Hi.”
Harper smiled. “Welcome. What brings you to rural Arkansas?”
She grinned back. “I drove through last year and loved the town. Decided to move here.”
Jocelyn said, “Wendy works with computers, and she’s going to teach us all.”
Harper’s eyes widened. “No kidding?”
She nodded. “I do freelance IT. Jocelyn told me how tough it is to find work, and I figured having a few tech skills can’t hurt.”
“I can’t think of anything better.”
One of the older ladies, Aurora Kincaid, said, “Wendy, isn’t it nice to know we have such a handsome single man in town?”
A couple of the ladies looked embarrassed, and one made a shushing sound, but Jocelyn waved a hand. “Aurora, you know full and well that Harper does not date girls. He’s gay, for heaven’s sake.”
Aurora looked around wide-eyed. “Oh that’s right. I forgot.”
Wendy cocked her head at Harper. “So you’re gay?”
He nodded.
Teeth flashed back at him. “No shit? So am I.”
The ladies all hustled upstairs to a room where the community center had set up a couple of old computers.
Mama Two walked Harper to the door. He pointed toward the retreating women, “That’s a good thing.”
She sighed. “Yes, but damn, it takes serious computer skills to do a job like Wendy’s from home, and we have no companies that can hire the women whether they have skills or not.”
“We’ll think of something.” It felt like another weight piled on his back right beside the one he’d left be
hind in California.
Maybe the stress showed on his face because Mama Two said, “You worry about you right now. You’ve done plenty around here.” She kissed his cheek.
He shook his head. “Not so’s you’d notice.” Slowly, he walked down the porch stairs and dragged his feet along the road toward home.
When the car horn honked behind him, he jumped.
Chapter Fifteen
HARPER MOVED farther off the side of the road to let the honking car pass.
What can I do to get the community center more computers? Maybe a few calls to companies in Fayetteville would—
Beep!
Harper jumped a foot, tripped, and staggered three steps forward before he caught himself. “Well damn.” He spun to give the asshole the finger and…
The car coming toward him, the old beat-up Prius, was—his car. Wasn’t it?
But….
Harper blinked, trying to adjust to the brilliant sunshine reflecting off the windshield. He could make out brown hair that might once have been cut short and businesslike, but at that moment looked shaggy and unkempt.
Harper took a step forward as the car pulled over to his side of the road—the wrong side—and stopped.
He held his breath, literally, as the driver’s side opened.
Remy Merced, looking tall, too thin, and bleary-eyed, stepped from the car. The corners of his mouth turned up, drifted down, then back up a fraction as if he weren’t sure if a smile would be welcome.
Harper could feel his mouth hanging open, but he couldn’t force it to close. It was like one of those half-awake states where you know you’re dreaming, but your body won’t move to wake you up. Finally he croaked out, “R-Remy?”
“You need your car.”
“What?”
“Your car. I brought it.” He pointed toward the Prius.
“Wait? You drove it?”
Remy nodded.
Harper frowned. “How long did it take?”
“Uh, two days but I drove straight through with just a few hours sleep.”
“Wait.” Harper stuck out a hand, but that light-headedness and breathlessness was back, so he squatted down.
Remy stepped closer. “Are you okay? What can I do?”
Harper looked up. “Aren’t you a billionaire?”
“Yes.”
“Couldn’t you have hired a guy—five guys—to drive my car? Hell, couldn’t you have put my piece of shit Prius on a plane?” He stood, frowning, his arms waving. “For that matter, you could have bought the fucking airline. What are you thinking driving some crap vehicle across the country where you could have gotten hurt and you’re so tired you can’t see and you should have been solving the problems of the company and….”
Tears flowed down his cheeks like the damned Mississippi. He took a step forward, and then he was running and jumping and landing in Remy’s outstretched arms.
“Oh my God, oh my God, you drove my car. You came here to… to… what?” He stared into Remy’s deeply shadowed eyes.
“I came for you, Harper. To find you, to be with you, to tell you I—I love you, and I have no idea what that means, but whatever it is, I’m in.”
“Oh my God.” Harper grabbed Remy’s head in his hands and dragged their lips together.
For one second, Remy froze, then his fingers slid into Harper’s hair, and his tongue took possession of every nook and cranny of Harper’s mouth. Remy might have learned on girls, but the skill set was clearly transferable.
Harper moaned and heard the sound echoed in Remy’s chest.
The heat managed to be both sweet and scorching, and their exploring tongues set up a dance that suggested other talents might also translate pretty fast.
The honk made them both jump as some clever passerby yelled the totally original, “Get a room!”
Remy smiled down into Harper’s eyes. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Harper shook his head. “I’m really confused.” He held up a hand. “In a good way, but still muddleheaded. You drove. I mean, aside from that being the world’s most romantic gesture, couldn’t you have called—shit. My phone quit.”
Remy smiled. “When it’s working again, you’ll find about seventy-five messages from me telling you that Felicity thought up that whole act on her own. I was breaking up with her, and she panicked. Now I am broken up with her.”
“And you’re here.”
Remy nodded. “I’ve been really stupid. I knew I cared about you practically from the moment I met you, but….” He wiped a hand over his face. “Sorry.”
“Jesus, Remy. We need to get you into a bed.”
“I totally agree.” He flashed wolfy teeth.
“Let’s walk before we run, there, hotrod. You need to sleep.” Harper pointed at the car. “Get in the passenger side, and I’ll take you home.”
“No.” He held Harper’s arms. “I mean, I want to meet your mother, but isn’t there a hotel or something? Somehow, I don’t want my sexual education to have to be too discreet.”
Harper pressed a hand against his chest. His heart was slamming so hard it should have broken bones. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I can’t believe I let you get all the way to Arkansas before I could catch you.”
“Okay, so there’s a bed and breakfast, but it’s no more private than my mother’s house.”
“Hang on.” Pulling his phone from his pants, Remy walked toward the car. He started talking, but Harper couldn’t make out all the words. He wandered away, staring into the trees.
Aren’t there about a hundred reasons why this won’t work? California. Arkansas. Merced. The difference in their positions and wealth. Harper’s cock gave a little hop, and he couldn’t remember a single reason.
“Harper?”
Harper turned toward Remy. Remy said, “I’m getting a place to stay. Maybe I can meet your mom before I learn what your cock tastes like.”
Harper clapped a hand over his mouth. “You didn’t just say that.”
“Yeah, I did.” Remy grinned, and all the fatigue seemed to melt into mischief.
Harper walked to Remy and looked up. “Get in the car before I ravish you here and you find out how the Arkansas Highway Patrol feels about gay sex on the side of the road.”
Laughing, Remy walked to the passenger door, and Harper got in the driver’s seat. He patted the steering wheel. “Hi, baby. Good to have you back. I hope you behaved for Remy.”
“Good as gold.”
Harper started the car and pulled out onto the sparsely traveled road. “We’re just a few minutes from home.”
“Sure is pretty here.” Remy rested his head against the back of the seat, and of course when they pulled up in front of Harper’s mother’s house, Remy was sound asleep.
Perfect. Harper slid quietly out of the driver’s seat and ran around the car. As he approached his mom’s front door, it opened, and a cute teenage girl came out with a woman who appeared to be her mother. The girl was saying, “I’m never going to remember what all those forks and spoons do.”
Her mother said, “Just remember to work from the outside in like Mrs. Treadwell told you.” She looked at Harper. “Oh, hello.”
“Hello.”
Her eyes widened. “You must be Mrs. Treadwell’s son. She said you were home.”
Her daughter stared at the car. “Do you know there’s a guy sleeping in your car?”
“Uh, yes. My friend drove my car from California, and he’s really tired. I’m going to let him sleep a few minutes before I take him to where he’s staying.”
“He’s gonna get a stiff neck.” She cracked what looked like a mouthful of gum. Clearly his mama had her work cut out for her with this one.
Her mother smiled and hustled her daughter to their car as Harper ran into the house. “Mama?”
“In here, dear.” Her voice came from the kitchen.
He rushed in, and she gave him a surprised smile. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, uh, sit for a minute.”
“Want some tea?”
Harper glanced over his shoulder. “Maybe in a minute, but I have to tell you something.”
“Now you’re worrying me.”
“Sit!”
She sat and stared at him with giant blue eyes like his.
He perched on the chair next to her. “Remember how I had this boyfriend and he was a rat bastard and I ran back from California?” He wiped a hand over his face. “While I was in California, I fell in love with my boss, Remy Merced, and I thought he was straight and I came home because I didn’t want to hang around and watch him be in love with someone else but he just drove my car all the way from California even though he’s this really rich guy who doesn’t need to ever drive a broken-down Prius and he says he like—Jesus!—he loves me and I feel like there are a million reasons why this is crazy but I can’t even think about those because I love him too much and… he’s in the car.”
His mother smiled. “No, dear. He’s standing behind you.”
Harper whirled and stared at Remy, who was leaning against the archway between the small dining room and the kitchen. Remy said, “I wish I’d recorded that. I’d play it back to you on our fiftieth anniversary.”
Forget breathing. Tears sprang to Harper’s eyes again, and he fanned himself trying not to start sobbing.
Remy stepped beside him and knelt down. “Happy tears?”
“T-totally.”
Remy stood and walked around the table. He extended his hand. “Mrs. Treadwell, I’m so happy to meet you. My mama speaks so highly of you.”
She grinned. “Well, my Lord, we can’t be shaking hands when we’re practically family.” She stood and hugged him. “Call me Nora Mae.”
“With pleasure.”
She pointed at a chair next to Harper. “Please sit and let me make both of you something to eat.”
“I was actually thinking I’d like to take both of you out to eat, and then we can all talk.”
Harper made a snorting sound and looked at his mother. “Sorry, ma’am, he was raised in California, so he doesn’t understand that making something to eat is the currency of friendship.” Harper gazed up into Remy’s wonderful, tired face. “Sit and let us fuss over you.”