Chapter 15
It was Thanksgiving Day and I waited at the front window of my parents’ home with my chest squeezing, pacing back and forth, watching for Archer. Axel and Remy were already here, helping set the table and finishing up cooking since I’d been the one to help mom last night. This wasn’t a true meet the parents date, but it sure felt like it. I breathed in a calming breath, the scent of sage and turkey flooding my senses. It definitely smelled like Thanksgiving.
Archer’s Honda SUV drove down the road, then pulled against the curb in front of the house.
I strode to the front door and paused with my hand on the knob. Should I go out there or wait here? What would I do if he was just a good friend? If he was a good friend, I probably wouldn’t be this nervous and wouldn’t be waiting by the door.
Axel walked out of the kitchen and into the front room, drying his hands on a towel, wearing an uncharacteristic black sweater over his jeans. “Look at you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were waiting for a girlfriend to walk through that door.” He cocked a brow.
Freeing a sharp laugh and twisting around, I rubbed my hands together. “Oh, come on, Axel. It’s just Archer.” This might be harder than I thought. I let my gaze run over the comfortable furniture in the front room, the cream tufted couch and chairs and the tables, rustic wood with white accents.
The doorbell rang and I popped the door open. “Hey, Archer. Come on in.” I stepped aside, fighting the urge to grab him up and kiss him. He looked adorable in his plaid button-down and black pants.
“Hi, Leo. I brought this.” He held out a bottle of Pinot Noir and gave me a warm smile. “I was told this was perfect for a Thanksgiving meal.”
Axel strutted toward him and leaned over, inspecting the label. “Looks good to me. I’m sure Mom will be impressed.” He hooked an arm around Archer’s shoulders. “Let me bring you to meet everyone.” As he guided Archer down the hallway to the kitchen, he glanced back at me and smirked.
What the hell was Axel up to? I strode behind him.
“Hey, Mom, this is Archer, Leo’s new buddy.” Axel freed Archer. “Archer, this is Mom, or otherwise known as Laura.”
“Thank you for having me over, Laura. It smells wonderful.” Archer held out the bottle of wine to her. “I hope you like red wine.”
Taking the bottle from Archer, Mom said, “Oh, it’s my favorite. It’s so nice to meet you.” She gave him a quick hug with a soft pat on the back. “Leo, dear, can you open the wine for me? I could use a glass right now.”
“I can do that, Mom. Remy showed me how.” Axel wound around me and snatched the bottle from the dark granite counter. “I’m sure Leo and Archer would like to watch the game with Remy and Dad.” He chortled. “Archer is a hockey player.”
“Yes, I know. Your brother told me all about him last night.” Covering her mouth and turning off a burner on the stove, she giggled.
With the ghost of a smirk, Archer’s gaze snapped to mine.
As my cheeks heated, I grabbed Archer’s elbow. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Dad.” And get him away from my brother.
When we approached the wrap around leather sectional in the family room, open to the kitchen, Remy and Dad looked up from the television, tucked into a wooden console in the wall across the room.
“Hey, dude, glad you could come.” Remy jumped up from the corner of the couch and held out his hand.
Archer rounded the coffee table to reach Remy, then shook his hand. “Glad to be here.” He faced dad, who also stood up. “You must be Leo and Axel’s father.” He straightened his shoulders.
“I am. Name’s Ed. I’m very happy to meet you, Archer.” Dad shook his hand, then lowered himself onto the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. “Have a seat. It’s nice to have a sportsman in the house.”
“Thank you.” With a glance at me, Archer sat down.
Shit, I should have gotten us drinks. I shuffled my feet. “Um, Archer can I get you a beer, wine, or?” I looked at the square coffee table in front of them. Of course, both Remy and Dad were drinking canned beers.
“A beer would be fine.” He smiled at me and dropped in next to my dad. “So, what’s going on with this game? I can’t wait to see Minnesota nail the Packers.”
Dad gave Archer a smug, tight grin. “You a Vikings fan?”
“I am. I’m from way up North in Minnesota.” He smirked. “Duluth, don’t you know,” he said with a heavy Midwestern accent.
Remy barked out a laugh. “Oh shit, watch out, Archer. Ed here was born in Wisconsin. You’re in trouble.” He picked up his beer and drank it, lifting his brows.
“Oh, really.” Archer’s gaze met mine. “Leo didn’t tell me that.”
“Uh, sorry.” I skimmed my hand over the back of my head. How the hell was I supposed to know? I hurried to the kitchen and grabbed two beers out of the refrigerator, then snicked them open.
“Archer is hot.” Axel leaned into me, whispering, “I mean, he’s not hot like Remy, but damn. If I were a single gay man…” He whistled. “Look at the muscles under his shirt.”
Yeah, I’d been up close and personal with those muscles. “Axel, behave yourself.” I squeezed my eyes for a beat, my stomach rolling. At least it wasn’t Axel who’d hooked up with Archer. Now that might have been unbearable to deal with.
With a soft snort, Axel said, “And look how he’s getting along with Dad. Isn’t he so charming?” He arched a brow at me.
“Uh, yeah.” Did Axel know? The guy could smell a queer person from five miles away. His gaydar must be off the charts with all of us in the same house together. I inhaled deeply. I wasn’t going to think about this anymore. If he knows, then he knows. I brought the beer to Archer and tucked in beside him and Remy, then sipped my beer, the cool bubbles sliding down my throat. Damn, I needed this. “Who’s winning?” My attention drew to the television, a commercial for Doritos hogging the screen.
“Vikings.” Archer lifted his chin.
“They’re only up by a touchdown and there’s plenty of time left. We’ve still got two quarters to play.” Dad leaned forward to give Archer a pointed look.
I gulped down more beer. Hopefully the rivalry wouldn’t get too heated. Dad loved his Packers. I glanced at Archer. But then, he was a Minnesota boy. Damn it. I edged closer to him, my gaze dropping to his thigh, the pants tight across the thick muscles. I wanted to touch him, to place my hand on him, wrap an arm around him, anything.
As the game started back up, the men on the screen took up their positions on the field in a long line, bent over and ready for action. I shot a glance at Archer. “So, who do you really think is going to win?”
“Green Bay,” Dad said.
“Vikings,” Archer said, then chuckled with a shake of his head. “Let the best team win.” He held his beer can out in front of me and dad tapped his can on it.
“As long as the best team is the Packers.” Dad smirked at Archer.
Archer freed a long breath, then grinned. “We’ll see.”
I glanced at Remy, watching the exchange with a sly smile spreading over his mouth.
“What do you think, Remy?” I drank more beer. I might have to Uber myself out of here later.
“I am not going to comment.” With a tick of his brows, he downed his beer. “Hey, lover boy, can you get me another beer?” He held up his empty can.
Axel, now wearing one of mom’s aprons lined in a tiger print, came jogging toward Remy with a new beer.
“What does that apron say?” Archer squinted his eyes.
“Oh, you’re gonna love this.” After handing Remy his beer, Axel puffed out his chest and traced the words with his finger. “This bitch doesn’t cook.”
“You got that right.” Remy scoffed a laugh.
“Mom, is that really yours?” With a grin quirking my lips, I turned my gaze on her.
She twisted from the stove, holding a spoon, and said, “Yes, it’s mine. Your father got it for me for Mother’s Day.”
I swept my gaze to Dad’s and cocked my head.
He lifted a hand in the air. “What? It’s funny.” He pointed at the television. “See? The Packers scored. It’s now a tie.”
“Oh sh…” Archer slapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”
“You’re allowed to swear, son. God knows one of my sons might have the worst mouth I’ve ever heard.” Dad threw a look at Axel.
Sauntering back to the kitchen, Axel said, “What did you expect? I’m the lead guitarist of a fucking awesome pop-punk band.” With a chortle, he picked up a carving knife and cut into the turkey, resting on the counter next to the stove.
My chest tingled with warmth. Dad really liked Archer. Mom did too, from what I could tell. I chewed the side of my lip. What would they say if I told them the truth about us? Would Dad go through the same struggles for acceptance behind my back, like he did with Axel all those years ago? Would Mom worry about never having any grandkids and not tell me? My relationship with them both would surely change. Axel would no longer be the gay son.
We ateat the table between the kitchen and the family room, since there was only five of us, and the game was still on. It was close, and as we finished our meal, the game went into overtime.
“I suppose I’ll have to do all the cleanup.” Axel pushed a turkey bone on his plate with his fork, his elbow on the table and his cheek in his hand.
“How about we all watch the end of this game and then we clean up?” I grabbed my glass of red wine and tapped Archer on the shoulder. “Sound good?” He’d kept his gaze glued to the television all through dinner, right along with Dad.
“Yes, then Leo and me can clean up.” He smiled at Mom.
“I’m all for that.” She drank some red wine down and sighed, her gaze running over the table of empty plates.
“Good, then it’s settled.” Dad rose up and walked to the couch, then dropped in.
“Come on.” I grabbed Archer’s hand from the table.
With a hitch of his breath, Archer tore his hand away from mine. “Uh, yeah, follow you.”
Fuck.What was I thinking? I snapped my gaze to Axel, then Remy.
Axel peered at me and twisted his lips, then sat back in his chair, tapping his index finger on the steam of his wine glass.
Say something, Axel. I fixated on my brother. I knew that look on his face. He saw what I did, and he was trying to figure it out. If he said something, I could probably explain it away.
“Axel, want to watch the game with me?” Remy snatched Axel’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I’ll let you sit on my lap.”
“Damn, that’s a big yes.” Axel hopped up and strolled with Remy to the end of the couch, where it became a lounger.
Mom sipped her wine. “Well, go on, I’m going to watch from here.” She picked at a slice of turkey still sitting on the platter.
“Okay.” With Archer following me, I walked to the couch and sat in the corner, Archer falling in beside me. “Who’s got the ball?” I’d lost track of the game with my misstep at the table.
“Vikings.” Archer glanced at Dad. “And they’re inside the twenty-yard line.”
Dad hung his head. “Doesn’t look good.”
The Vikings snapped the ball and the quarterback backpedaled, then threw a long pass toward the corner of the end zone.
“Shit, yes!” Archer set his wine on the coffee table and hopped up, pumping his fist.
The Viking wide receiver tore away from a defenseman, ran into the end zone, jumped, and picked off the ball from mid-air, then rolled to the ground, hugging the ball to his chest.
I stood up. No way I could sit through this.
“Oh my God, Vikings won!” Archer dropped his mouth open and grabbed me up, lifting me from the floor. “We won.” Laughing, he dropped me back down.
With a wide smile, I chuckled. “Go Vikings.” I fist bumped Archer, then turned my attention on Dad.
He rolled his hand in the air. “Go ahead, celebrate. You deserve it.” Shaking his head, he huffed a laugh. “It was a good game. But next time, the Packers will get ‘em. You’ll see.” He shook a finger at Archer.
“Maybe. But a tie like that? Could have gone either way.” Archer held up his fist to Dad
Dad fist bumped him. “Good game.”
Axel, sitting almost on top of Remy, sighed. “Guess the winners get to do the dishes now.” With a sly grin at Remy, he kissed his cheek. “I am way too comfortable to get up.” He sipped some wine, then focused on Dad. “What’s next? I hear there’s a gay Hallmark movie on. Can we watch it?”
“Oh, Axel.” Dad waved him off. “Put on what you want.”
Mom strolled over from the table. “Gay Hallmark movie? I’m in.” She sat down next to Axel and took his hand in hers, then snatched up the remote.
“Come on, Archer, let’s go clean up.” I tagged his arm, made to grab his hand, then stopped myself and freed a soft snicker. God damn it, this was hard, and I wanted to be like Axel and Remy.
After cleaning up,we all sat around the table with coffees and slices of pumpkin pie, piled high with whipped cream.
“So, Archer, tell us a little more about yourself. What do you think you’ll be doing when you finish school?” Mom cut into her pie.
Archer rocked once, then a smile broke out over his face. “Well, I’m hoping I can play well enough the rest of this season to get into the Coyotes development camp.” He bit his lower lip.
“Coyotes? Wow, that’s big.” Dad beamed at him. “We might have the next Wayne Gretsky sitting with us.”
“Oh…” Archer’s cheeks flushed, and he freed a soft chuckle. “I’m not nearly that good and Wayne Gretsky was a center. I play left defense.” He ate a bite of pie.
Dad swallowed some pie, then said, “The damn centers get all the attention, but without good defenseman, and especially a great goalie, a hockey team won’t get anywhere.”
“Do you keep up with hockey?” Archer peered at Dad.
“I watch some. Football is my game, but hockey is fun to watch, too.” Dad sipped his coffee. “But playing in the NHL, that’s something.” With a warm smile, he focused on Archer.
My chest swelled. “He’s good, Dad. You should see him play.” I glanced at Archer.
“Yeah, we’ve been to a few of his games. It’s a blast.” Remy stuffed a bite of pie into his mouth.
“Hey, would you um, maybe you’d like to come to a game with Leo? I get some free family tickets and well, my family isn’t here to use them.” Archer set his fork on his plate, studying Dad.
Dad looked from Archer to me, then nodded. “You know what? Yes, that would be a load of fun.” He cut into his pie. “You two work out what day and I’ll be there.”
“I want pictures of you all at the game.” Mom ticked her shoulders.
“Good, then Leo won’t be stealing my life partner on the weekend.” Axel flung his arm around Remy’s shoulders and kissed his cheek.
“Having some time away from your life partner is good for the relationship, Axel.” Mom gave him a look. “You’re smothering that poor boy.”
“Naw, it’s okay. I like him smothering me.” Remy gave Axel a cheeky smile.
“See? This is why we’re meant to be together,” Axel said, side-hugging Remy.
“Oh brother.” I rolled my eyes, then cut a piece off my pie. But Axel had a point. They were meant to be together. I snuck a glance at Archer, scarfing his pie down. Were we meant to be together? It sure felt like it. He fitted in so well with my family and friends. I had to figure my shit out and stop hiding. It wasn’t fair to either of us.
After helpingMom clean up the last round of dishes, we said our goodbyes to everyone and headed out the door. Axel and Remy had left a few minutes before us. I stood next to Archer’s SUV, then glanced at the house. Mom wasn’t looking out the window at us, was she? The glow from the window didn’t have any shadows in it.
Archer tucked his hands into his pants pockets. “So, um, want to come back to my place?” He lifted the corner of his mouth.
“Yes.” I pulled his hands from his pants and held them between us, then captured his mouth with mine, tasting the leftover cinnamon and nutmeg from desert. Our tongues meshed and my cock took notice.
Breathless, he broke the kiss. “Race you to my place.”