Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

Night fell early this time of year. The Lair’s outside lights made welcoming halos on the ground as we parked close to the entrance. Pearl babbled from her car seat, excited to be someplace different.

Weatherman’s headlights flashed across the front of the building. I’d been here only one other time, but there was a sense of familiarity to it. Weatherman drove his mom’s big white Chevy Traverse so we could put her fancy walker and the stroller in the back. Natalie had stopped using the wheelchair and was gaining strength again. Pearl was walking pretty well now, but she still had moments when I had to carry her and needed the yellow contraption.

Weatherman took Pearl out of the car and gave her raspberries on her cheek, making her giggle.

“Am-mah-dah!” she declared as he put her down and helped his mom.

Betsey was the first person we saw. The few times I’d been around her, she’d made a beeline for Pearl. Tonight, Pearl stumbled up to her and babbled her baby words.

“Hey, cutie britches!” The woman scooped up my daughter and set her on her expert hip. “How’s my little precious Pearl? How’s my baby?”

The rest of us became afterthoughts as she turned and carried my little girl into the building.

The place was the same as the last time I came. People played video games, shot pool, talked, drank, and ate. Stud conversed with Dodge and had one arm around his oldest daughter with another one pulling at his leg. I didn’t see Eva or Fauna. Table waved from where he stood with a pool cue in his hand. I caught a glimpse of Lori herding her brood to a kids’ spot with plates. One pointed look from her had Table leaving the game to help her. Tambre sat on one sofa with a baby on her lap, who I guessed was Lori’s newborn.

Betsey had taken over Pearl and played with her while strolling around the large room. She stuck a finger in her mouth and stared at the deer head over the giant mantel that sported a springy turkey headband. She pointed at it and dropped her alligator on the floor. Mute scooped it up and handed it to her. She gave him a drooly grin, no fear of the giant.

Maybe it was because she was in the arms of someone she trusted to keep her safe.

I trusted Betsey too. I trusted all of them.

A buffet was set up along one wall and was covered with every imaginable Thanksgiving food item. Platters of turkey, ham, and venison sat alongside an army of vegetable casseroles and a mountain of mashed potatoes. Another table had just as many dessert offerings, with pies, cakes, cookies and some sort of fluffy chocolate stuff that made my mouth water. No excuses for anyone to go hungry here tonight.

“Let’s grab some food, babe,” Weatherman said.

Babe. The title made me feel things I’d thought were gone. I still had a ways to go, but this was the beginning. The start of something new. Something good.

I filled a plate with just a spoonful of everything and still ended up with a huge pile. I also made a smaller one for Pearl. Weatherman did the same for him and his mother, sticking by my side as we made our way down the long table.

“Try the sweet potatoes. They’ll change your life.” He plopped a helping onto my plate before adding to Pearl’s and his.

Betsey “fed” Pearl, which consisted of letting my daughter smear potatoes and gravy all over her shirt.

“I’m sorry for the mess.”

Betsey laughed and let out a “Pshhht” while clicking her nails at me. “Don’t you worry ’bout it. This here is my mama cut. It’s been spit up on, chewed on, and peed on more than once. I wouldn’t trade it for all the tea in China.”

Grandma to the world indeed.

I spotted Katrina coming in the front door wearing her nurse’s scrubs. She had a baby carrier in one hand, a big bag over the opposite shoulder, and a tired smile. Mute hurried over to her and leaned down to kiss her before taking the baby. I watched as the huge man picked up the squirming bundle and cradled his child. Mute always struck me as the most brutal and fearsome biker of the Dragon Runners, but the tenderness and care on his face blurred out any thought of that. His child would never be harmed.

It was breathtaking.

A father’s love. A true father. Not some sperm donor who couldn’t be bothered to even meet his child.

I had to look away before I lost it, but it was hard. Everywhere my eyes landed, there was evidence of deep care. Table smiled and ruffled the hair of one child. Natalie sat on a sofa with a plate of food in her lap and talked with Psalm, more than likely about some sort of fiber craft. Eva arrived with the rest of her clan, and Stud greeted her with a big kiss that made their oldest daughter roll her eyes. Brick stood talking to several of his men, but when Betsey strolled up to him still carrying Pearl, he raised his arm around her shoulders, acknowledging her status in his life.

Everyone had a place and purpose in this club, and I found myself wanting my own spot in it.

Weatherman and I sat in an alcove with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the massive pool deck. The pool itself was huge and currently covered for the season, but there was a hot tub still open and bubbling away in a screened-off area. Several people were making their way to it, and I wondered if they had on bathing suits under their fluffy robes.

“Betsey doesn’t allow skinny-dipping, but it still happens from time to time,” Weatherman remarked.

“How do you know?” I asked as I lifted a forkful of the sweet potatoes.

He dipped his chin and gave me a mischievous look.

“Oh. Never mind.” I had to grin. “During the winter in Minnesota, the lakes and rivers freeze up enough that we put out ice fishing shacks like little neighborhoods. Some of them are just tents, and some are real little houses with beds and kitchens for longer stays. We have these long augers to drill through the ice so we can put lines in for fishing. I don’t think it gets cold enough to do that here.”

“It’s rare that we get a freeze like that, but we’ve had a few hard winters when the ice and snow build up like crazy. Then again, we also get really mild winters like this one, where we’re lucky if we see three flakes drift down.” He paused to take a bite of food. “I’m serious about the sweet potatoes, babe. Try ’em.”

I put the fork in my mouth, and heaven exploded on my tastebuds. “Uff-da, this is good.”

He smirked. “Told you.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes, and then he asked, “So, how does life here in North Carolina compare with Minnesota?”

I paused to think of the right response. “It’s different and the same. I mean, like the weather and the way people talk are big ones, but people are still people no matter where they live. Minnesota mothers deal with the same things North Carolina mothers do. Schools, kids’ sports, households, money—everyone talks about it all the time at the salon, all the challenges they have on a daily basis.”

He made an amused grunt. “I’m thinking you’re like a bartender/counselor, expected to dole out advice while rolling perm rods.”

“Sometimes. Tambre’s better at it than me. She’s one of the few who can handle Burna Jones.”

“So, what did you do before you became a stylist?”

My stomach churned. “Um… nothing interesting. How about you? What did you do before you became… well… a weatherman?”

He smiled as he wiped his mouth. “Most people call us meteorologists now. I spent a lot of time on the swim team and later as a lifeguard. I met Table and Lori my senior year, just before I won a swimming scholarship. It took care of most of my college tuition. That, my savings, and guilt money from my father put me through school, and I was able to graduate debt-free and with a little extra left over. I’m one of the few students who lived at home and commuted for classes. Saved a lot of money that way.”

He stacked my empty plate on his and stood. “Go grab us some drinks, would you? I’ll get rid of these, and then we can take a walk outside for a bit.”

Walking with Weatherman? It sounded like a children’s book title, and I had to suppress a giggle. “You bet.”

I got him a beer from the cooler and myself a Diet Coke. He twisted off the tops of both bottles before handing me my soda. “I guess the temperature outside isn’t that cold to you, right?”

“Well, I’m not planning on wearing shorts, but it’s not like Minnesota cold, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He reached out his hand. “Pearl is safe with Betsey, and my mom will also keep an eye out. Come with me.”

The weird flutters in my belly came back. “Why?”

His eyes caught mine, and the intensity kept me from moving. “I want to know more about you.”

I wanted to ask, “Why?” again, but the word stuck in my throat. Instead, I took his hand and let him lead me outside.

The air wasn’t really cold, but there was a crispness to it. I wondered for a moment how Pearl would be about winters here. A northern Midwest baby now in the South?

We strolled along the pool deck and out onto a gravel-covered path. Motion sensor lights followed us, winking on as we approached and turning off as we left their area. I spotted several large buildings on the property and a bunch of short square ones. I also noticed that he didn’t let go of my hand.

“Over there is the private garage and workshop. Behind it is maintenance and storage. What you see through here are camping cabins that are used in the summer for overflow guests or when the members want more privacy.”

“I thought everyone had their own rooms in the Lair?”

“Most of us do, but occasionally we need more space. A few of us smoke a little weed now and then, and out of respect for Betsey, we don’t do that in her home.”

I smirked. “Smoke a little weed, eh?”

He laughed out loud. “Well, I’m not without sin. Not like your Pastor Bobby.”

I laughed this time as well. “Robert isn’t my anything. He’s nice, and we’ve gone out a few times, but that’s all.” I paused before making the observation. “You don’t like him much.”

Weatherman stopped at a plain wood bench. The light gave off a bluish hue as it shone down on us. “It’s not that I don’t like him. I just don’t agree with him.”

“You don’t believe in God?”

He sighed and sat, pulling me down with him and keeping our hands linked. “I believe in God, just not the version he spouts from the pulpit. My mom and I used to attend a church when I was little, but we stopped when the pastor started ranting over gay people going to hell. I had a hard time understanding how that could come from a God who claimed to love everyone.”

He shifted, leaning back to gaze at the stars, and pointed to the sky. “See those stars there? The ones that form a big square? How ’bout the diamond shape on the left above it and the arch on the right? That’s the constellation Pegasus.”

It took me a minute to see what he was showing me, but I finally spotted the shape. “Wow, I see it! That’s pretty neat.”

He moved his finger to another spot. “See the one below, another square, and the three above? People commonly call that one the Little Dipper, but the real name is Little Bear or Ursa Minor. The Big Dipper, or Ursa Major, is below it and more upright.”

It was pretty exciting to recognize the star shapes. “Yes, I see them too. What else is up there?”

“Over there is Orion. I showed him to Pearl once. He’s real easy to recognize because of the three stars that make his belt.”

Weatherman spent several more minutes showing me other constellations and groupings of stars.

“How did you learn all of this?” I asked.

“One of my closest friends over in Tennessee was gay. I met him during a stargazing event with a local astronomy club. Even though he was older than me, we still hit it off as really good buddies. He never hit on me or did any of the things that pastor said he would. He wasn’t evil. He wasn’t perverse. In fact, he was a Christian, baptized and everything. Tim was a music teacher and worked at one of those last-chance schools where they put kids who are considered delinquent. The pay was shit and the conditions worse, yet he went to work every day with middle schoolers who’d fallen through the cracks. His side job was playing the piano in a church band. One that never pointed fingers at him. He died last year from a heart condition, and I attended his funeral. Standing room only. There’s no telling how many people that man helped to a better place while he was on this earth for such a brief moment. How can a gay Christian go to hell, especially one who sings praises and works hard to better other people’s lives? Doesn’t make much sense to me.”

He had a point. It was a question that I certainly had no answer for.

“The estimate is that there are around a hundred billion stars in our galaxy, and the visible ones form these constellations.”

My brain could think in hundreds more than billions. “That’s… well… a lot.”

He smiled. “Wanna blow your mind more? There are between two hundred billion and two trillion galaxies in the universe, and that’s only the ones we can see. Counting that many stars?” He put his other hand next to his head and flared his fingers while making an explosion sound. “Bottom line is, the universe is pretty damn big. I can’t believe a God whose power created all of that would be limited to a small group of people on a tiny planet that’s insignificant in comparison to everything around it.”

“I’ve never really thought about it. It’s kind of….”

“Overwhelming?” he supplied.

“Yeah, that’s it. Overwhelming.”

We sat in a comfortable silence, looking up at the sky and listening to random night sounds. I felt at ease, like there was nothing I needed to say or do. I could just be in the moment and let everything go. The worries and the fears all disappeared, and I was fine—truly fine—with my place in the world. Weatherman brought me a sense of peace where Pastor Robert, even with all his kind words and gentle spirit, did not.

I finally broke the quiet. “When I went to his church that one time, Robert preached forgiveness of sins. Is that something real?”

He turned to face me. “I don’t see why not, but it’s not up to me. I believe my job is to love and take care of my family and others as best as I can. That’s it. That’s one big reason why I joined the Dragon Runners. You won’t find judgment here. Not from Betsey. Not from Brick. Not from any of my brothers or their women.”

His fingers were cold as they traced my jaw and pulled me to him. “Not from me.”

There was a split second when I felt his breath against my lips before he covered them with his. Soft, dry, sweet. He didn’t open them. He didn’t bite at me or force his tongue into my mouth. It was a gentle contact that lasted a long time.

When Robert kissed me, it was nice and sweet, but nothing more than that. When Weatherman kissed me, all I could focus on was him. The shape of his lips, the texture of his skin, the movement of his hand as it cradled my chin—all of it combined into an intimacy I wasn’t prepared for.

He lifted his head just enough to break contact but stayed close. So close that his breath puffed warmly against my mouth.

Then he shifted me to straddle his lap before he pulled me to him again, this time firmer, wetter, and just more . I opened in invitation, and he accepted, giving me his full taste as he explored mine.

My heart jumped once. Twice. The heat in my chest grew with intensity as that organ came alive and made its presence painfully known. I was sure he could tell it was pounding away in tandem with his.

I was completely torn. Half of me wanted to run away in fear, and the other half wanted to burrow deep into his body and find all his mysteries. Confusion filled my head, but there was one thing that was crystal clear.

I was falling in love with Weatherman—with Bryce Turner.

He ended the kiss, pulled back, and kept holding my waist. His grip tightened around my hips as he spoke with as much conviction as I’d ever heard. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I will say this. I don’t want you to date Pastor Bobby anymore. I want you to date me .”

The burn in my chest flared. “I have a child.”

“You do, and I care about her too.”

“I’m not well educated. I didn’t go to college.”

“Doesn’t matter. Different people have different talents, and not all of them need four-year degrees.”

“I have a lot of baggage in my past that you don’t know about.”

“And when you’re ready to tell me, I’ll listen.”

Everything I said, he had an answer. Perhaps they were rehearsed, but he talked as if they came from his heart. My head was roaring with white noise as my heart melted away in my chest. I barely breathed as my whispered question came out almost inaudible. “How can you guarantee you won’t leave me?”

He stopped at that and raised a hand to run through my hair, then cupped the back of my head. “I can’t. Just like you can’t guarantee you won’t leave me. The only promise I can make is that I will always try my best to be the man you expect and need. We have a connection between us that’s not going to go away. I think it’s time we do something about it. Take a chance on me, babe.”

I rested my head on his shoulder as I sat on his lap. His arms wrapped me up to hold me close. Cheek to chest, belly to belly, hip to hip, every part of me touched every part of him, fusing us together as if we’d become one person.

“What are you thinking, sweetheart?” he rumbled under my ear.

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

“Me too.”

That took me by surprise. “Why are you scared?”

“I’ve dated a lot of women and had a few serious relationships, but nothing so significant that I got hurt. I did the breaking up, and I’m not proud of it, ’cause I hurt some people I cared a lot about. I think this time, I’m the one at risk.” He paused. “However, I don’t want to miss out on this . If you’re ready to jump off that cliff with me, we’ll go together.”

“What if we fall to the bottom?”

“What if we find a trampoline and bounce higher?”

I stopped talking. We could spar with what-ifs all night. It all boiled down to him and me gambling on a future. Our future.

Would there be one?

“It’s okay to let your heart beat again.”

It was. It pounded hard and fast, on fire, and so hot that I was afraid it would burst out of me to scorch everything around it to cinders.

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t! I couldn’t! I couldn’t!

Could I?

“It’s okay to let your heart beat again.”

“I’m not ready to sleep with you.”

“Sex is not a requirement for dating. I didn’t go to bed with every woman I’ve gone out with. We’ll get to that when we’re both ready.”

I went silent again, torn between worlds.

“It’s okay to let your heart beat again.”

“Let your heart beat again.”

“Let your heart beat.”

“Okay. Let’s try.”

He moved to dip his head. Easy, gently, naturally, his lips conformed to mine. I’d been kissed before as a stamp of ownership. Bryce’s kiss wasn’t that. It was a reverent confirmation that we were in this together and a promise that we would give it a serious go. My nerves continued to jangle warnings, but we stepped up to that precipice together, and I felt the whoosh as we leaped over the edge.

By the way his body jolted, he felt it too.

The kiss ended, and neither of us spoke for a few moments. The night sky was the only witness to this world-shaking event.

I broke the church-like silence. “We have to get back to Pearl and your mom.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up, and he stroked his thumb over my bottom lip. “ We . I like that. Let’s go.”