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“Not always.”
Ivan hit the gas and launched the vehicle forward. The wind carried off whatever Rory had been about to say. Delighted laughter burst from him instead as Ivan accelerated over the terrain. He’d start the tour in his beloved place and end with meeting the horses and dogs on their way back to the main ranch for dinner.
“I’m glad you insisted on a warmer jacket,” Rory yelled.
Ivan glanced over and saw that he’d ducked his chin into the open collar. He should’ve given him a hat and offered to go back, but Rory declined.
“Show me your special place.”
That unbidden and persistent voice made itself known again, telling Ivan that Rory’s heart could be the most special place of all. Fuck. He really was turning into a poet. Ivan let off the gas when they neared Honeyland and slowed to a crawl just outside the gated entrance.
“I don’t freaking believe it,” Rory said in awe. “You’re not playing around, are you?”
Ivan assessed the large section of meadow Cash had sanctioned for honey production. The spring wildflowers were just blooming, but within weeks, the place would be awash with vivid color. Ivan and Cash were the owners, but the rest of the ranch was represented in the cluster of hives spread throughout the space. “Not just me,” he said. “Rueben made the wrought iron fence and arched gate, and Kieran helped me paint each hive to look like a house, so the clusters became honeyhoods.” The play on neighborhood had been Cash’s idea. And no two honeyhoods were the same. Some looked like farmhouses, and others resembled urban dwellings like brownstones and high-rise apartments. “Tyler’s family owns a plant nursery in Texas. He knew a lot about which plants, flowers, and shrubs attract bees and aid in pollination. We have blooming plants from spring to fall. Harry found old bird baths at yard sales and filled the bottom with various sized stones and marbles to give the bees a safe place to perch while hydrating. Owen laid the pavers to create the pretty walking paths throughout the honeyhoods. Dylan placed various gnome, mushroom, and wildlife lawn ornaments throughout the area. I think it makes the space look like an amusement park for the bees.” Pride and community swelled inside his chest. “This might be my passion project, but they all made it theirs too.”
“It’s beautiful,” Rory said. “Can we go inside, or will we disturb the bees?”
“It’s okay to go in.” Ivan glanced over at him. “The bees are pretty lethargic and confined to the hives until it gets warmer. If we do encounter one, it’s likely to be aggressive and sting. Are you allergic?”
Rory shook his head. “I got stung plenty of times on my grandparents’ farm in Oklahoma. My grandmother used to warn me constantly not to go out barefoot, but I didn’t listen. I loved the feel of grass under my feet.”
Ivan climbed out of the side-by-side. When Rory joined him, Ivan reached out for his hand. He hadn’t planned to do it and hadn’t consciously thought about the gesture. He just saw Rory and wanted to touch him. If he was surprised, Rory didn’t show it. He laced his fingers through Ivan’s and walked beside him. Ivan unlatched the gate with his free hand and gestured for Rory to precede him. Ivan wasn’t sure where he wanted to begin his story. Did he start with the event that landed him in jail, where he’d learned to keep bees, or did he work backward?
“You don’t have to say anything,” Rory said. It didn’t surprise Ivan that he’d picked up on his uncertainty. They were oddly in tune with each other. “I know everything I need to about you, Ivan. Your character is on display in everything you do.” He gestured to the surrounding hives. “Honeyland is a testament to how much everyone adores you on this ranch, and you don’t cultivate those types of relationships by being a bad person. Your past can stay just that…your past.”
Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Ivan probably recognized how much his found family loved him, but he really felt their love at that moment with Rory. Pointing out everyone’s contributions validated what he’d felt in his soul, and he finally knew where and how he wanted to start his story.
“I didn’t like myself for a long time. In fact, I spent much of my life hating myself,” Ivan said. Rory’s fingers tightened around his, but he said nothing. “I suspected I was different from the other boys around age eleven and was certain of it by thirteen.” Ivan didn’t laugh because the memories weren’t funny. Eighteen years had passed since his first boy-induced boner and the shameful crying that had ensued afterward. It still hurt to remember how lonely and scared he’d been. Ivan didn’t push away the memories; he embraced them the way he wished he could hug that confused kid. If only he could somehow go back in time and whisper in young Ivan’s ear that everything would turn out okay.
Rory must’ve mistaken Ivan’s silence as hesitance or regret because he stopped and tugged Ivan’s hand so he’d do the same. Turbulent blue eyes stared up at him, and Ivan desperately wanted to soothe the rough waters. He pulled Rory into his arms and kissed him right there in the middle of Honeyland. Ivan’s heartbeat sped up as it always did when Rory was nearby, and the pounding seemed to knock something loose in his chest. A chink in his armor, perhaps, making him feel lighter and more open. He palmed Rory’s head and deepened the kiss, and he could practically hear his inner thirteen-year-old weeping with joy instead of shame and fear. Tears of relief stung the back of Ivan’s eyes, but they didn’t spill down his cheeks when he broke the kiss and met Rory’s worried gaze.
“I want to do this,” Ivan assured him. But he needed to burn off some excess energy, so he continued the walk among the hive clusters, hand in hand with Rory. “We attended a very strict church where sins-of-the-flesh sermons were a weekly thing. The pastor made his views on homosexuality very clear, so I silently hated myself while worrying that people could read the shame on my face. My parents never spoke about homosexuality—for or against it—so I assumed they agreed with the pastor’s views. I thought my parents would hate me and cast me out of the family like the pastor preached, so I fluctuated between ignoring who I was and pretending it wasn’t real. Schoolwork, farm chores, and football became my existence. I didn’t date, but my parents would simply remark that I was too focused on building a future when asked why I didn’t have a girlfriend.” Ivan leaned toward Rory. “It also helped that I was an awkward, red-headed giant. The girls weren’t exactly beating a path to get to me.”
“They were fools. Luckily for you, I wasn’t around,” Rory said. “I would’ve charmed your parents in their living room, then coaxed you out of your overalls in your bedroom.”
Ivan snorted. “I didn’t wear overalls.”
“Pity,” Rory said with a sigh. “Are there any back in the store?”
“If not, I know where to get my hands on some.”
“Yessss,” Rory hissed. “Now get on with the trauma so I can kiss it all better.” His tone was matter of fact, not flippant. Rory believed he could make Ivan’s pain better, and the hell of it was, Ivan believed he could too.
“I had high expectations for college,” Ivan told him. “After earning a full-ride scholarship to play football, I majored in agricultural studies. I thought I’d meet the girl who would fix the parts of me that were broken, and I expected my classes would reinforce what I knew about farming.”
“That didn’t happen?”
Ivan chuckled. “I met a boy who made me think being broken wasn’t so bad, and I discovered alternate ways of farming. The term sustainable agriculture is pretty common now, but it wasn’t as well known back then nor was it welcomed by my father. We butted heads over it during phone calls and visits home, and a chasm grew between me and my folks. I can see now that I was bracing myself for their rejection when they found out I was gay.”
“You pushed them away before they could cast you out?” Rory asked.
“Yeah, I think that’s fair to say.” Ivan took a deep breath. “It never occurred to me to give my parents the benefit of the doubt. My phone calls and trips home became fewer and fewer as my infatuation with Curt Shepherd grew.” Rory stiffened, and Ivan used their connection to tug him closer. Ivan released Rory’s hand to wrap an arm around his waist. “Don’t get jealous. I’m here with you.”
Rory sighed heavily. “Sorry.”
“I’m not. I like that you care.” Ivan pressed a kiss to the top of his head, then kept the conversation going before they got sidetracked. “Curt and I were very careful because neither of us were out to our families. His folks aren’t as rich as yours, but they’re well off and very connected at the university. Anyway, we attended a party at a house off campus a few months before graduation. We both had a little too much to drink, got careless, and forgot to lock the door of the bedroom we stumbled into upstairs. You know how quickly people whip out their phones to take pictures or videos, even drunk or high.”
“No, no, no,” Rory whispered. He stopped and turned into Ivan’s body, hugging him tight. “I’m so sorry.”
