Chapter 25 Reason Seventeen
Two months had passed since Gray sat me down and told me we needed to talk.
My mind instantly went to wedding bells and matching rings.
Instead, he’d told me he wasn’t ready to leave West Clark for the bright lights of Dallas, Texas.
I’d reminded him that my home was wherever he was, and if he didn’t mind us never making it higher on the social ladder than a grocery store manager and the shelf stocker he was fucking on the side, it was enough for me.
As a compromise, he’d suggested moving in together.
Then, he never mentioned it again. Despite his initial offering of cohabitational bliss, any time I broached the subject, he’d been strangely noncommittal.
I was starting to worry that he’d reconsidered until I woke one Wednesday afternoon to an empty bedroom.
Fearing a vicious home intruder had entered my room as I slept, stealing what few possessions I had to my name, I picked up my oscillating tower fan and made my way downstairs to confront the stealer of skincare products and form-fitting clothing.
When I reached the bottom of the staircase, the dastardly defiler of bedrooms was napping on the sofa.
I walked over to the couch and knelt in front of my balding beauty, kissing the bare patch of skin on his crown.
His eyes opened slowly, and in his state of half-sleep, he looked at me with nothing but confusion in his eyes.
“Why are you sleeping on the couch?” I whispered.
“You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you.”
I leaned in, resting my head against his chest. “For future reference, wake me up. You’re a king. Kings don’t sleep on twenty-year-old sofas.”
“Noted.” His fingers brushed through my hair and scratched lightly at my scalp.
“My things are missing.” There were two possible explanations for the sudden disappearance of my possessions. Robbery or Gray Collins. If it had been a robbery, then Gray could comfort me over the loss of all my earthly items with multiple offerings of oral sex. If Gray was responsible, it meant …
He leaned down and kissed me. When he pulled away, the bastard was grinning ear to ear.
“Do you know how hard it is to pack up an entire bedroom without making a sound?” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in for a hug before whispering to me for no reason other than sending shivers down my spine.
“I was hoping you might be ready to come home.”
“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. Because you’re never getting rid of me after this. You know that, right?”
“I’m planning on it.”
“Where the hell are you taking me and why the hell do I have a blindfold on?” I barked at him, thirty minutes later.
“If we were headed to Cobb, we’d be on the interstate by now.
I swear to God, Gray, if this is some kind of sick game just to get my hopes up so you can crush my spirit, I’m divorcing you. ”
“We’re not married, Kent. I don’t know how many times I have to remind you.”
“Until you give me a damn ring. That’s how many times. Christ, babe, I can’t make the hints any bigger.”
He snickered, and I scowled in his direction, crossing my arms against my chest. He reached over, thumping my nose, and it took everything in me not to lunge at him. We could have been driving along a jagged cliff for all I knew, so I resisted that urge.
“That’s assault,” I said with all the anger I could muster.
“We’re almost there. Just trust me, Half-pint.”
“It’s eight-hundred degrees outside, and I have perishables in those boxes.
” I flung my arm toward the bed of the truck, inadvertently slapping what I hoped was the seat and not the man I loved.
I could cope with being branded a failure, a loser, a …
God help me, a ‘daddy’ in the gay community, but I drew the line at being seen as a perpetrator of domestic violence. “Did I just hit you? Are you okay?”
He sighed. “You smacked a pillow with some guy’s head on it. Wait, is that …”
“Don’t look at that!” I shouted, lunging blindly for the pillow. “Oh my God, Gray, if you love me, you’ll look away. Nothing good can come from this. Not a thing.”
“Kent,” he said, his voice as cool as ice.
Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fucking-fuck.
“Baby, why do you have a pillow with the back of my head on it?”
“Shut up. Don’t say another word.”
“Where did you even get this picture? You can’t see my face or anything, it’s just an overhead shot of my …” He groaned. “Dang it, Half-pint. Stop being weird about my bald spot. You know I’m self-conscious about it.”
“It’s big and beautiful, and I can’t help my kinks.
It does things to me. I can’t explain it.
” I knew it was a touchy subject, that perfect patch of flesh.
The one time I’d talked him into letting me shoot my load on it, I thought we were going to need couples counseling just to survive the embarrassment it brought him.
“Stop shaming me for loving you, for fuck’s sake.
Just let me love you, dammit. Anyway, that’s not the point.
We were talking about my eye cream, but way to make it all about you again, you raging narcissist. I’m warning you, if one ounce of that cream goes bad, so help me.
That tube cost me more than I make in a week. ”
“I love it when you whine,” he said, resting his hand on my thigh. “And I don’t know why you waste your money on that stuff. You don’t need it. There’s not a soul on this earth that holds a candle to you.”
I whimpered. How the hell did he expect me to respond to that statement?
Before I could address any of the beautiful words he’d just spoken, he turned onto what I assumed was a dirt road.
The sound of gravel and sand flinging out from under his tires went on for another minute or so before the truck came to a stop.
As I reached up to pull the blindfold off, he slapped my hand away.
“That’s twice! I won’t stand for physical abuse, Gray.”
“Just sit there and hold your horses. You’re going to love this.” His door opened, and moments later, my door was swinging open, and his hand was in mine, guiding me out of the truck toward this mystery location of his. When we came to a stop, he leaned in, whispering into my ear.
“You ready?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re playing at, but—” Before I could finish, his hands were behind my head, untying the blindfold. When it came off, I grabbed his hand, needing to feel that connection to him again.
The lake. Our lake.
As I opened my mouth to ask him what we were doing there, I noticed a small crowd by the shore. I turned toward Gray, my mouth hanging open. “What is this?”
He grinned and took my hand. “Can’t spoil the surprise. Gosh.” He tugged me forward, leading us to the little family we’d found along our journey back to each other.
They looked ridiculous, every single one of them.
My mother was openly weeping for reasons I didn't understand. One of Kate’s hands was on Jeff’s ass and the other was wiping a tear from her eye.
The debs were standing side by side like a busted-up version of the Pentecostal-cat Dolls, praying up a storm.
Christian was eye-fucking me like there was no tomorrow, holding Dog-Dog in his arms. As for Dog-Dog, he was wearing a sparkling sweater with a sewn-on doggy backpack.
I wasn’t sure why he needed a backpack, but rather than question the matter, I blew him a kiss.
Rhonda was missing in action, which offended me to my very core.
Marty was wearing a shirt that read I LOVE MY HOMOSEXUAL SON, and there was a strip of black tape about an inch wide toward the end of that rainbow.
Surprisingly, Sarah was at Marty’s side, holding the hand of my arch-nemesis, the nameless waitress from Shooters Saloon (AND SUSHI).
I scowled at the waitress. She glared at me. Gray just groaned and led me forward.
When we reached them, Mom pulled me in for a hug and blubbered in my ear. My stomach was in knots, and though I didn’t know what was going on, it felt like it was something big. When she let me go, Gray spun me around until we were facing.
“Kent Fox—”
I leaned in, hissing my words at him. “You haven’t even said hello to anyone. That’s just rude. Christ, Gray, where the hell are your manners?”
Gray rolled his eyes and waved at the small crowd beside us before turning back to me. He pressed his forehead against mine. “I love you, Half-pint.”
“Love you. So much.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. So, what I need from you is to stand there and keep that beautiful little mouth of yours closed long enough for me to get this out.” He cocked his head to the side, giving me the sexiest set of bedroom eyes that I’d ever seen.
“Can you do that?” He reached up, tracing the length of my jaw.
“Can you be a good boy for me?” I nodded, unable to do much else when he was staring at me like that.
“Good. Because you’re going to want to hear this. ”
“I am?”
“You are.” He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.
“I used to pray for this, you know. After you left, I’d pray that you’d come home.
I begged God to bring you back to me. To give me a chance to make everything right.
When you left, I lost a part of myself. The best part.
” Gray reached up, wiping a tear from his eye.
“Your song, the one I sang for you ... ‘Just for you, Half-pint,’ I used to say. Do you remember?”
I nodded. “Abide With Me.” He smiled so widely at me that the very ground I stood upon felt like it was collapsing, and I knew that even if it took me, even if I fell into the Earth’s depths, I would die a happy man because that smile would have been the final sight that guided me out of this life and into the next.