Chapter 9
Nine
GARRETT
Ten Days until Christmas
Is it too late to go back to work?
My parents are driving me up the wall. They’ve been…
apathetic. That’s the perfect word. They’ve been apathetic all this time.
And now they want to pretend we’re all one big happy family.
Pretend they haven’t been gone for the last ten years, only showing up to cause trouble?
Hell, pretending I haven’t been gone for the last twelve years.
That Jane hasn’t been in and out of rehab most of her son’s life?
That Emily is just off somewhere and everything is fine.
I want to scream, but instead, I smile politely at my mother while serving her coffee and counting down the minutes until I can escape to my office.
Or until Aidyn returns.
“Sit with me, Garrett.” She pats the sofa next to her. “I’m so glad you’re home and not running off to New York.”
There are so many things I could say. That I had a successful career in New York.
That they are the ones who ran off to God knows where— I stopped trying to keep track of them.
That they don’t live in Mule Creek, so it’s hardly their home.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I sit next to her. “Thank you, Mother.”
She takes a sip of her coffee and studies me. Shit.
“I have a few last-minute things to take care of,” I say as I stand. “Business—”
“Sit, Garrett.”
And I do. Which is probably for the best. There’s no way to stop her once she gets something in her head. I might as well get it over with. I gulp down half my vitamin water and prepare for what’s to come. She gives me a disapproving look. Is that for downing my drink? Or my life in general?
“You’re not getting any younger, dear.”
Fuck. It’s this conversation. “That’s generally how it works.”
“Don’t be snide.” She turns so we’re facing each other. Or we would be if I weren’t staring straight ahead. “Garrett, look at me.”
“Yes, Mother.” I obey her command. Barely. Why do I feel like I’m thirteen and in trouble because Jane got into Mother’s makeup? Jane was only two at the time and my responsibility.
And where the hell did my father go?
“You’re almost forty, dear,” she says, patting my hand. “It’s time for you to settle down.”
I grit my teeth. For fuck’s sake. “I’m settled. I moved back to Mule Creek. I started a business.” And it’s fairly successful. Thank you for asking. But my snark would only prolong this torture.
“What about a family?”
What would she do if I told her the truth? That I desperately want a family with Aidyn and Lanie. Except they’re already my family. But I want more. Would it shock her to know I’m in love with my brother-in-law?
But I know the answer. It would be scandalous.
I have no idea what to say. Why wasn’t I more prepared for this conversation?
“This isn’t New York, but there are plenty of single women in Mule Creek.”
I stare at her. Never mind the whole coming out at seventeen thing that happened. Did she forget the conversation we just had last week? How many times do I need to come out to one person? “Mother, I’m gay.”
Her brows inch up her face. “Still?”
My mouth drops open, but God, I don’t have any words.
So I repeat hers back. “Still?” I shift on the couch so I’m facing her.
And giving her exactly what she wants. “Being gay isn’t something that goes away.
You can’t choose to be straight one week and gay the next.
” I end my rant with a frustrated sound in the back of my throat.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Garrett,” she says in a snippy voice. I’m being ridiculous? “I’m aware that you can’t change”—she gestures toward me—“that. But since you’re bisexual—that’s a thing, right?—and going on forty—”
“I’m thirty-eight, Mother.”
She sniffs. “Don’t interrupt. It’s rude.”
So is everything she just said to me. But again, I don’t say that. This conversation needs to be over. It needed to be over five minutes ago.
“You’ve had your fun. Now it’s time to find a nice, respectable woman and start a family.”
I shake my head, and once I start, I’m unable to stop. “No.”
“No?”
I stand, my hands clenched by my side. “I’m not bisexual, Mother. I’m gay. If and when I’m ready to start a family, it will be with a man.” She scoffs, but I ignore it. “And I’m done with this conversation.”
She rises slowly from the couch. “There is no need for that tone, Garrett Bishop. I’m only trying to help. And do what’s best for my family.”
When have you done what is best for this family? Was there ever a time? I stuff the words down, but instead of staying put, they spread like a virus, eating away at my self-control.
Impudent. That’s how I feel. And it doesn’t matter that I was featured in Forbes. Or that I turned a rundown farm into a successful business.
“I’ll be in my office.” I turn and head for my sanctuary before I do something drastic. My phone is already in my hand.
He answers on the first ring. “Sorry it’s taking so long—”
“Aidyn.”
“What’s wrong, love?” He lowers his voice. “How can I help?”
“Tell me I’m pretty.”
He laughs, and the pieces of me that my mother shattered start to reassemble. “You’re very pretty—your eyes and those long-as-fuck lashes. But you’re also intelligent and caring, and let’s not forget, sexy as fuck.”
I drink in the words. The sound of his voice. The fondness. The love. “I wish you were here.”
“I’m on my way. It’s only been…” He pauses. Is he checking his phone for the time? “Two hours since I left you.”
“Two hours with my mother.”
“Ouch. I’ll be right there. Lanie’s on the phone with her boyfriend. That’s part of the holdup.”
“Tell her Maple misses her.”
His deep chuckle heats the glass in my veins and stirs my cock. I shut my office door and lock it. “We’ll be there soon. Any chance we can sneak a few minutes alone?”
“I’d like that. What did you have in mind?” I push my hand against my cock. I feel like I could come just from the sound of his voice.
“It sounds like you still need convincing.”
“Convincing?”
“On how pretty you are. I have lots of thoughts. And I’d like to explore them one by one.”
“Naked?”
“That’s preferred, but honestly, Garrett, at this point I’d take making out with some over-the-clothes groping.”
“Agreed.” I listen to his breathing and what sounds like pans banging. “What are you doing?”
“Bringing a red velvet cake. Cake always makes everything better.”
“God, I fucking love you.”
This chuckle goes straight to my balls. “Same, darlin’.”
The call ends, and I pace the floor of my office. It’ll be at least thirty another minutes, and my cock is still throbbing from Aidyn’s sexy voice in my ear. Maybe I should jerk off in the shower so I don’t jump him the moment he arrives. My cock likes that idea. A lot.
I just have to make it from my office to my room. I listen at the door. Nothing. Pulling it open, I rush out—right into my sister.
“Watch where you’re going, Garrett.” Jane shakes my hands off her shoulders and steps back. “In a hurry?”
“No.” I sound like a petulant child, and her lips quirk up. “What are you doing here, Jane?”
“Mom called me. Said we’re decorating for Christmas.”
Mom. It reminds me we had vastly different upbringings, even though we were all in the same house. Jane was the baby. The favorite. Not that I cared about any of that. I clear my throat, not sure how she’s going to react. “Aidyn and Lanie are coming over.”
The smile drops from her face. Then reappears. This time, it looks forced. “Great.”
I glance toward the living room. “Is that…okay?”
“You tell me. It’s your house.” Jane has always been outspoken. But now her filter is gone. It’s almost like she no longer has time for bullshit. “Christy has a problem with me, not the other way around. I’ve tried to apologize for…everything, but the man is stubborn.”
“He is.”
“And he’s got good reason to be pissed at me. I was…awful.”
I squeeze her arm. She’s a foot shorter than me with strawberry-blond hair, brown eyes, and an elfin chin. This close, I can see the scars she tries to hide with makeup. “That wasn’t you. The addiction—”
“Don’t do that.” Her eyes flash with emotion. “Don’t make excuses for me. Mom does it—” She swallows, shaking her head. “Saying I had no control over my addiction, my actions, means it could happen again.”
“It could, Jane,” I say as gently as I can. “You know that.”
“Only if I let it.” She pushes her shoulders back with a determined glint in her eyes. My sister has come a long way. Her lip quivers and she bites down on it.
“Mother tried to convince me I’m bi.”
She chokes out a laugh. “How did that work out?”
I smile. I’m glad to have my sister back, but I’m not looking forward to grumpy Aidyn and my mother stirring everything up. “Janie,” I say, reverting to her childhood name, “this is going to be a shitshow.”
“Probably.” She takes my arm. “Come on then. Let’s get it over with.”
I expect my mother to be sifting through the ornaments and deciding which ones she deems appropriate. But this? This is so much worse.
Mother has the photo albums out. All of them? A few are open on the coffee table and others are stacked on the floor.
I stare at her and my father as they flip through the pictures. “Why?”
Jane snorts as Mother glances up. “We’re looking at photos, dear.”
“I see that. Why?”
She dismisses me with a wave of her hand. “Look at Jane. This was taken on her first birthday.” Her smile is…wistful. And then I get it. Mother wants to live in the past. A simpler time before careless drivers and drugs and her son being gay.
“I look like Simon…I mean, obviously, he looks like me—but I always thought he looked more like Isaac.” She runs her fingers over the plastic covering the picture.
They do this for a while. Our parents go through albums and show Jane pictures she coos over. I don’t scream. No matter how much I want to.
“Emily is so beautiful here,” Mother says, waving me over. “Look, Garrett. Isn’t she beautiful?”