Hogtying the Bartender

by Charlie Richards

  Taggart tapped the table near Jimmy’s phone. “I noticed you silenced your phone when there was an incoming call.” His expression was way too knowing. “Are you avoiding your boyfriend’s calls? Because no one deserves that.”

  Annoyance sparked through Jimmy, and he scowled at the man.

  Obviously Taggart recognized the look, for he lifted his hands in placation. “Impartial opinion. Remember?”

  Jimmy groaned. “You’re right, but I really don’t want to talk to him right now. I don’t know what I’m feeling and—”

  To Jimmy’s relief, the waitress arrived. She was one he recognized—Candace. She greeted Jimmy by name while pouring him a cup of coffee, then complimented Taggart, calling him his handsome friend, and confirmed whether or not he wanted coffee, too.

  Taggart flipped his mug right side up and slid it toward her. “Yes, please.”

  After Candace filled his mug, she glanced between them. “Still need a few minutes?”

  Taggart nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I’ll be back in a few.” Then she moved off to help another.

  “Since you don’t want to talk to him,” Taggart commented almost absently as he picked up a couple of sugar packets. “Text him. Tell him that you received his messages and need a day to think and process.” After he’d poured his sugar into his coffee, he added, “At least that way you won’t be ignoring him, putting the bad light on you.”

  Recognizing the wisdom in that, Jimmy nodded. As he typed a few words, he muttered, “And I can thank him for the roses.”

  Taggart chuckled. “At least he recognizes that he’s in the dog house.” Then he picked up a menu and perused it, giving Jimmy a chance to write his text.

  By the time Jimmy finished, Candace had returned. She took their orders—good thing Jimmy practically had the menu memorized. He ordered his usual—biscuits and gravy with a side of hash browns.

  Resting his forearms on the table, Taggart wrapped his fingers around his mug. “So, tell me whatever you’d like.” His green eyes twinkled. “Just don’t be surprised if I ask questions.” He leaned closer. “I am a lawyer, after all.”

  Jimmy chuckled softly, trying to figure out where to begin. Then to his surprise, he started at the beginning.

  He was nearly finished telling most of the details of his and Vance’s courtship when a shadow not cast by the waitress loomed over them.

  “Finished with the cowboy already, Jimmy?”

  Jimmy looked up, surprised to see a sneering Lars standing there. “Uh—”

  “I knew you were a tramp.” Lars snorted as he glanced between them, his dark eyes cold. “How long are you gonna keep this one around?” Focusing on Taggart, Lars warned, “This one won’t keep you. He fucks ‘em and leaves ‘em.” Returning his attention to Jimmy, he added, “I see the truth now. You ain’t nothin’ but a pretty face to hang on an arm for a while.”

  After that parting shot, Lars turned and stalked out of the restaurant.

  Jimmy could do little but gape. When he felt Taggart tap his fist, he snapped his mouth shut. He focused on the other man, who had a lifted brow in question.

  “And that was my ex-boyfriend Lars. The one I dated before Vance.”

  Taggart chuckled. “Wow. You’re a heartbreaker.”

  Fortunately, Jimmy heard the gentle teasing in his tone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vance growled under his breath. “He was where with whom?”

  Thrusting his hand through his hair, Brand ordered, “Now don’t get your panties in a twist, Vance. I didn’t tell you to make you jealous.”

  “Then why did you tell me?” he snapped.

  Goddammit. Is Jimmy really out on a date?

  “I told you because I think Lars is a little obsessive and you should consider asking Detective Carl Lewis to look into him. Or Ryan,” Brand added, placing his hands on his hips. “Or at least recommend to Jimmy that he do it.”

  “I would need him to pick up his damn phone in order to do that,” Vance snarled, thrusting his good hand through his hair, knocking his hat askew.

  As Vance fixed his cowboy hat, Brand winced. “Still not talkin’ to ya, huh?”

  Vance shook his head.

  “Did you send flowers?”

  Sighing heavily, Vance rested against his porch railing. He tipped his head back, peering up at the overcast sky. “Yeah. Two dozen roses. I received confirmation that they were delivered this morning.” Vance turned his attention back to Brand. “And I did get a text from him.”

  “Yeah?” Brand grinned, his expression hopeful. “That’s somethin’, right?”

  Vance shrugged. “He thanked me for the flowers and asked me to give him a little time to think.”

  “Why would you send a guy flowers?”

  Upon hearing Mark’s question, Vance tensed. Shit. He’d hoped to have more time before he tried to explain his relationship with Jimmy to his son.

  God, my life is about to explode.

  “Well,” Vance began slowly. “I said something inconsiderate to—”

  Vance heard the sound of tires crunching on gravel. Taking advantage of the chance to think, he turned to look at the approaching vehicle. He couldn’t place the sedan.

  “Are we expecting someone?” Vance asked, glancing toward Brand.

  “Yeah. Lorna Lewis.” Brand’s dark eyes held a wealth of concern, and Vance guessed his friend knew he was stalling, for he added, “She volunteered to help with the piglets.”

  Nodding absently, Vance murmured, “That was nice of her.” He peered Mark’s way, then beckoned to him. “Grab a coat and come on, son. I’ll explain on the way to the barn. Then you can learn how to feed piglets, too.”

  “Ugh, Dad,” Mark whined. “I don’t wanna deal with pigs. That’s your job.”

  Vance scowled at the teenager. “And it never hurts to help other people. Now get your coat.”

  Huffing a put-upon sigh, Mark slammed back into the house. He was back a moment later. His jacket was on, and he was reaching for the zipper.

  “Don’t bother zipping,” Vance warned, leading the way around the side of his home. Even Brand fell into step near them. “It’s hot enough in the piglet stall that you’ll probably take it back off again.”

  Mark didn’t respond, but he didn’t zip his coat, either.

  Knowing he couldn’t put the conversation off any longer, Vance opened his mouth again. “Do you remember the man who was on my porch the morning you arrived? Uh, Wednesday?”

  Scoffing, Mark muttered, “You mean your fag boss’s fag friend?”

  Vance snapped his attention to Mark’s face, spotting his derisive expression. He glared, a low growl escaping him. “I’ve had enough of your mouth, Mark,” Vance snarled. “That is no way to talk about someone.”

  Mark scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Why? It’s the truth.” After making a rude noise, he continued, “They—”

  “Because it’s rude and inappropriate.” The forceful feminine voice came from behind them, causing all of them to turn. “By speaking that way, all it does it show your ignorance and nasty attitude.”

  Lorna stared at Mark imperiously, her green eyes, which normally held warmth and kindness, were narrowed. She rested her gloved hands on her lean hips. Every line of her stance expressed her distaste.

  “Wh-What?” Mark practically squeaked the word.

  Vance looked at his son, and his lips parted in surprise. It wasn’t the flush on his cheeks or the way he gaped, staring in obvious surprise at Lorna, that shocked Vance. Instead, it was what he saw in his son’s eyes. Mark was staring at Lorna as if she was the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on.

  “You heard me,” Lorna stated, her ire still filling her tone. “How would you like it if someone made mean comments about you just because your hair is brown?” She pointed at his features. “Or your eyes are hazel? What if people constantly made fun of you beca
use you have a little dimple on your chin? How would you feel then?”

  “I—” Mark finally tore his gaze away from Lorna. He glanced between Brand and Vance but must have realized quickly he would get no support from either. “W-Well, those are things I can’t do anything about.” Mark’s voice held a hint of anger. “I was born that way.”

  “Exactly,” Lorna replied, her tone softening. “So why make fun of the way people are born?”

  Mark furrowed his brows. Maybe it was because Lorna no longer sounded combative, but when Mark spoke again, Vance noticed less hostility in his son’s voice, too. “Fags choose to be deviant. That’s just wrong.”

  Lorna lifted her hand and pointed at Mark. “If you keep using nasty slurs around me, I’m going to have these two big strong men hold you down so I can wash your mouth out with soap.” She wiggled her finger between Vance and Brand as if to add emphasis. “And who people are attracted to is born in their nature just as surely as that cute dimple on your chin, so don’t try to use that as an excuse to be mean.”

  Vance noticed that when Lorna had first begun responding, Mark had sported a mutinous expression. By the end of the young woman’s comments, his look had changed to sly. He wondered what that was about.

  “You think my dimple is cute?”

  Good grief!

  Opening his mouth to cut off that train of thought—hell, Lorna’s father was a detective—Vance also began to lift his hand.

  Lorna beat him to a response... and she seemed to have Mark well in hand. “Focus, young man,” she scolded lightly. “Whether I think you’re cute or not, there’s two huge reasons I wouldn’t date you.”

  “Why not?” To Vance’s surprise, Mark sounded curious.

  Vance was, too.

  “Well, first, you’re what? Sixteen?”

  “Mark is fifteen,” Vance corrected softly.

  Lorna nodded. “Fifteen, so... illegal.” She grinned, and her green eyes twinkled, giving her a radiant expression. “And my dad’s a detective, so no way will I break the law.” After winking playfully, Lorna sobered. “Even bigger, though, is the fact that I don’t date bigots.”

  His brows furrowing, Mark muttered, “I’m not a bigot.”

  “Well, actually... you are. I’m not saying that to offend you, Mark,” Lorna continued in a conciliatory manner. She even went so far as to rest her hand on Mark’s shoulder and turn him, so they could start walking toward the barn again. “A bigot is someone who is intolerant of anyone different. In your case, you are intolerant of gay people. Sadly, it’s not an attractive trait because most people who are bigots are so full of hate. There’s no joy in their lives unless they’re hurting others.” Lorna shook her head, her expression holding a wealth of sadness.

  “Well, what if I change?” Mark began slowly. He turned his head to stare at Lorna. His face was filled with something Vance wasn’t certain how to interpret. “I want joy and love and sh—” Mark paused and glanced Vance’s way. “Uh, crap.”

  “Well, since you’re fifteen, I still can’t date you,” Lorna told him. “But if you’re not a bigot, I’d love to be your friend.”

  Mark nodded, relief and happiness filling his eyes. “Yeah!” Once again, his expression turned sly. “And you have a car.”

  Lorna laughed as she pushed Mark forward, so he could follow Brand through the barn’s door. “Not so fast, buster,” she countered. “How about we talk about what it means not to be a bigot, first?”

  Vance was too far away to hear Mark’s response—his mumbled reply drowned out by the noises of pigs. Closing the door to hold in the heat, he quickly caught up.

  “It’s not just about what you say, Mark,” Lorna was explaining. “It’s about how you act, too. Like... if you saw two guys kissing, how would you react?”

  Before Lorna had even finished asking the question, Mark cried, “Ewww! That’s disgusting!”

  “No, it’s not,” Lorna replied, keeping her voice pleasantly even... perky even. Mark whipped around, nearly stumbling, revealing a sagging jaw and wide eyes. Lorna shrugged. “If two people are attracted to each other, why can’t they express their affection? Who cares if it’s two men or if it’s two women?”

  For the next forty-five minutes, Vance watched and listened as Lorna chatted with Mark. He didn’t know how she made everything sound so damn sensible that his son slowly began to accept and nod. Vance wanted to ask a question or two himself, but he was too afraid to say anything that might break whatever enchantment Lorna had over his son.

  “Holy shit, I never would have believed it,” Brand whispered into Vance’s ear.

  Vance nodded absently, sliding his focus to the piglet in Mark’s arms. “Me neither.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his son so relaxed and... interested... in anything that was even sort of related to Vance’s work. Still, he couldn’t help but whisper back, “What do you think will happen when he discovers I want to date a man?”

  “Maybe you should tell him with Lorna around to soothe him.”

  While Vance heard the jest in Brand’s tone, he actually thought it was a damn good idea. He just needed the right avenue. A thought struck him, and he smiled.

  At a lull in the conversation, Vance softly called, “Lorna?”

  “Hmm?” She smiled up at him.

  “Does your father still occasionally do favors for his friends?”

  Lorna laughed as she nodded. “Of course. Should I tell him to expect your call, Mister Weimer?”

  “I think so. I don’t like how Jimmy’s ex-boyfriend keeps showing up and making nasty comments.” Vance flicked his gaze to Mark, trying to gauge his reaction. “I would need to get the man’s last name from Jimmy, and his permission of course, but I was hoping Carl could just confirm whether or not he’s an issue or if I’m being paranoid.”

  Mark beat Lorna to a response. “Hey, isn’t Jimmy that guy you mentioned earlier? The f—uh, the gay guy?”

  “He is,” Vance confirmed.

  “Why would you care about the guy’s ex?” Mark eased the bottle away from the piglet. “This one’s asleep. Was he the last one?”

  Lorna nodded, taking the baby and placing him with his littermates.

  As Mark rose to his feet, Vance bit the bullet and admitted, “Because Jimmy is the one I sent roses to.”

  Gasping, Lorna grinned as she bounced to her feet and took a step toward him. “You sent Jimmy roses? That’s so sweet! Was it your anniversary, or was it just for no reason?” Lorna headed toward the half-wall, her grin widening. “I definitely think it would up the romantic level if it was for no reason.”

  Vance grimaced. “Actually, I sent them because I fu—” He coughed, trying to hide his slip, but Lorna smirked at him, revealing she knew what he’d intended to say.

  “So, you screwed up and sent flowers.” Lorna shrugged. “Still nice.” She turned to Mark. “Make note of that for future reference,” she ordered, pointing at him. “If you make a mistake with whoever you’re dating, flowers are a good way to apologize, but only if you mean it.”

  “Mean what?” Mark asked, betraying just how young he still was.

  Lorna grinned brightly. “That you’re really sorry.”

  Sadly, even Lorna couldn’t distract Mark this time. His son turned to face him, his hands gripping the top of the half-wall. “You sent roses to a guy because you were apologizing for making a mistake.” He paused, licking his lips, obviously sorting out what that meant. It didn’t take him long to come to a conclusion. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re dating a guy? That you’re a fag?”

  Lorna cleared her throat and crossed her arms.

  Mark ducked his head, his cheeks turning pink. “Um, I mean a... a gay person?” Vance didn’t even have time to respond before Mark lifted his chin again, focused on him, and quietly asked, “Is that why you and mom broke up? And she’s so unhappy? Because you’re gay and married her anyway?”

  Oh, holy he
ll. Where did that come from?

  Vance tipped his head to the side. For the first time in his life, he saw true honest confusion not marred by anger or bitterness. While Vance knew that Lorna visited because she was intending to get a degree in animal husbandry, he thought she might have missed her calling. He bet the young woman would make an amazing family counselor.

  “To be honest, I don’t know why Darlene is angry. I could hazard a guess or two,” he quickly added, lifting his hand to stall Mark’s response. “But it would only be conjecture. And no, I actually consider myself bisexual, Mark. When I married your mother, I did love her. I still care about her and want good things for her.” Too bad she doesn’t feel that way about me. “Unfortunately, we learned too late that even though we loved each other, we couldn’t build a life together. We just... weren’t sufficiently compatible.”

  “What do you mean?” To Mark’s credit, he didn’t sound accusing or angry, just concerned and... interested.

  Vance tried to find the words to explain a complex concept. “You can love someone, care for someone, and not be able to build a happy life with him or her.” Even as he worked through an explanation, feeling closer to Mark than he had in almost a decade, Vance knew it couldn’t be this easy.

  Still, it’s a start.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fighting back his nerves, Jimmy took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He knew this was the best way, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  “I can do this,” he mumbled. After a firm nod, Jimmy lifted his hand and rang the doorbell.

  Nearly immediately, Jimmy heard the thud of movement coming from inside the cabin. He saw a curtain move out of the corner of his eye, but it was too quick for him to catch sight of Vance. A few seconds later, the front door before him swung open... and Jimmy feared he’d made a horrid mistake.

  Instead of Vance standing before him, it was his son, Mark.

  Shit! What do I say now?

  “Uh—”

  Oh, real eloquent, Jimmy. Get your head out of your ass.