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“What was it like for you?”
He chuckles darkly. “Torture. Every day. It doesn’t help that our parents grew up in the time before us, when there was a lot of media focus on how unsafe it was to be gay. I knew they loved me, but I also knew, deep down, that while they’d accept me, they’d be scared. And worse … disappointed. They wouldn’t be able tohelpbeing disappointed. Still, I came out in my senior year of high school, and we got through their feelings on it together.”
“It’s so bullshit.”
“I’ve always thought the same.”
I stare at his hand for a moment, working through the mix of emotions rushing through me. Then I flip my hand over and hold his. The smile I get makes the doubt smaller.
“Wanna race?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s see who can get through their dinner one-handed first.”
“Joke’s on you,” I say, waving my fork. “I’m right-handed.”
He sneers. “Leftie, baby. I’m not going to go easy on you.”
“And if I win?”
“I’ll blow you.”
A laugh bursts from me. “No way. You’d do that anyway.” I nod toward the large, newish shed. “I want to see your cars.”
“Ooh … Introducing you to the girls is a big step. They’re my pride and joy. Might get them all confused to see a strange man with Daddy.”
“There’s an easy solution, then.”
“Are we back to the blow job?”
I shake my head. “Nope. You don’t want me to meet them, you better win.”
“Deal.”
“So what do you win?”
His face goes blank like he wasn’t expecting that. “Ah …”
“Blow job?” I tease, though I have no fucking clue if I could follow through. My research today also extended to porn, and apparently, I wasn’t even ready forthatbecause I can’t remember the last time I voluntarily sat through such an awkward half hour.
“Nope, I don’t want you stressing over that while we’re enjoying our night together. I want … to pick what we watch tonight.”
“Okay, then. Let’s do this.”
Ford calls outgosuddenly, as though it’ll give him a head start.
And it only takes a moment to work out why.
Fordisn’tleft-handed.
The mess he makes reminds me of something I’d expect from a toddler. There’s food on the table, smeared all over the plate, and even specks of it in his short beard. He goes to remove his hand a couple of times, but I tighten my hold all the way up until I clean the last scraps off my plate.
Then I throw both hands in the air. “Winner!”
He gives me a few unenthusiastic claps. “I’m very impressed.”
“Thank you, thank you.” I bow.
