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“He wants you for a snack,” I say, and Jasper kicks his leg out gently, trying to shoo the chicken away, but it’s too determined.
“I bet you have a clever name for this one, don’t you.”
“My sister does sometimes. They’re her babies. But I learned pretty young not to get too attached. The coyotes make off with a lot of them.”
“That is awful,” he says and then bends down to pet the chicken. It pecks at his fingers, and Jasper wrenches his hand back, his mouth open in shock.
“It bit me.”
“They don’t have teeth,” I say and let a chuckle escape. I know it’s the wrong move, but I can’t help it. Seeing Jasper so flustered makes me giddy.
“Well, I almost lost a finger and what good would my hand be if I didn’t have one of them?”
I eye the hand and then think about it wrapped around my dick. “I mean, you could lose one and still be able to jack me off just fine.”
He shoves at me, and I stumble back a little, smirking at him. Grabbing on to the basket for the eggs, I set out showing Jasper how to collect them.
I can see on his face that he has a question for me. Why he’s holding back, I’m not sure. It’s not like him to do that. “The sister that names the chickens, is that Kristy?”
I nod my head in answer. My relationship with Kristy is…difficult. When my dad died, she was the oldest and she stepped up to help Mom. I was the youngest and honestly a rebellious little shit. I never saw the world the same as she did. I wanted something different after graduating high school…something that wasn’t settling down, buying land, and starting a farm.
I wanted to live in a big city. I wanted to fool around with lots and lots of guys without it being the talk of the whole damn town. I wanted to find myself, who I really was because I never felt like I fit in here.
Sure, I loved the bonfires and even playing football in high school. I liked country cruising with my friends and lighting shit on fire for the fun of it, but at the end of the day, I always wondered what else was out there.
California has become my home. Kristy was horrified when I told her I was leaving with nothing more than a duffle bag of my clothes and the three grand I had saved up from odd jobs here and there. She couldn’t fathom leaving this town. But I could. I dreamed big.
“Were you guys ever close?”
His question pulls me from reminiscing about the past. “Honestly?” He nods, and I answer, “She was always more like a parent than a sister. And she doesn’t really agree with my choices.”
“Being gay isn’t a choice.”
I laugh at that because fucking duh. “Nah, she ignores that for the most part. I mean, I’m not sure she supports it, but it’s moving to California and not living here that really got her.”
“And they don’t know you’re a camboy?”
I shake my head. “Yeah, they don’t know about that. And Kristy, for sure, won’t ever.”
His jaw drops. “What? How can they not know about that? You’re…”
I cock my brow at him, crossing my arms over my chest, amused. “I’m…?”
He rolls his eyes at me and is probably horrified by almost giving me a compliment. “You know that you’re a fairly popular camboy.”
I snort at that. I even have awards for this shit. Popular doesn’t even begin to describe it. “They don’t pay attention to that stuff, and I don’t tell them.”
“But Samantha and Bridgette seem cool.”
“Yeah.” Fear slices through me when I think about any of them finding out about my career. It makes my stomach hurt. “I’m not sure they’re that cool.” I’m tired of talking about this. It is too damn much for the day. “Let’s get this all done so we can go back inside.”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t argue as we finish up a couple of things, refusing to pet the donkey. And when we’re done, Jasper huffs that he needs to wash his “poop phalanges,” so we make our way back in so he can scrub at his hands.
“Fun, right?” I say, leaning against the door to the bathroom and watching him lather his hands up with soap.
“It was a learning experience, one I would like to never repeat when I go back to California.”
I eye him as he rinses his hands and then dries them off.
