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Authors: Shae Connor

Wayward Son (19 page)

BOOK: Wayward Son
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Then he could shove his gay lover in his parents’ faces.

Mikey dropped his head back against the seat. “You’re right,” he muttered, and then paused. “Do you know how much I hate that you’re right?”

Jimmy laughed and squeezed Mikey’s nape. “I’m always right,” he replied. “You might as well go ahead and learn that now.”

Despite everything a laugh bubbled up in Mikey’s chest. He let it escape, and it felt so good that he laughed again, just for the hell of it.

Then he turned his head toward Jimmy. “Take me home,” he said, “and kiss me until I can’t breathe.”

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t look away from the road. “Now that’s something I’ll be more than happy to do.”

Chapter 13

 

M
IKEY
HAD
survived some seriously awkward scenes with his parents over the years. The one where he finally told them he was gay ranked way up on the list.

But this was sheer torture.

Leann O’Malley had pulled out all the stops for dinner. They sat in the formal dining room around a table covered with a cream linen cloth and topped with sparkling crystal and silver flatware Mikey knew had belonged to his grandmother. Cloth napkins to match the tablecloth had been tucked into lead crystal napkin rings, and his mother had served a first-course salad of mixed baby greens and shredded carrots in a light vinaigrette. Classical music played softly from somewhere nearby, and candlelight flickered from the floral centerpiece.

Mikey picked at his salad, almost afraid to move for fear of breaking something or otherwise making a fool of himself. He’d sat through far too many meals like this when he was younger, both at home and at the country club, first in Atlanta and then after they’d moved to Orlando. He’d never known what his parents paid for those memberships—and it wasn’t like his father even played golf—but having a trust-fund baby for a mother did make the financial side of things a lot easier while he was growing up. Not so much the “keeping up appearances” side.

Mikey supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to find Jimmy appeared right at home in the formal setting. He hadn’t pulled out Mikey’s chair like he’d done on their dinner date—God, was that only a week ago?—but he’d complimented “Mrs. O’Malley, or may I call you Leann? It’s such a lovely name” on the beautiful table setting and the wonderful scents coming from the kitchen. Mikey did have to admit that his mother had always been an excellent cook, even though she’d never been particularly adventurous beyond the occasional trendy party dish that would make the rounds of her circle of friends.

The smells of beef and red wine clued Mikey in that they’d probably be having beef Burgundy, or “boeuf Bourguignon,” as his mom called it when she served it for company. He’d always loved it, but he didn’t know how much he’d enjoy it this night, if at all. His stomach sure didn’t seem pleased at the prospect of any food.

“So, Leann”—Mikey still couldn’t quite believe she’d agreed for Jimmy to call her by her first name—“you decorated the place yourself? It’s very nicely done. Contemporary without feeling cold, like so much modern design.”

He had Leann Christopher O’Malley absolutely eating out of his hand. She blushed, actually blushed.

“Not on my own,” she demurred. “My dear friend Judy has always loved to decorate, and once her daughter went off to college, she was at loose ends and thought maybe she’d try her hand at it professionally. I offered to let her start here.” She gave a perfect little laugh. “I knew I could trust her to do it up right. So many of the design houses now have such questionable practices.” She dropped her voice to a near whisper. “Did you know that they gave a prestigious design award to a company here that’s run by two men? I can’t imagine giving
those people
that kind of control in my home.”

She shuddered theatrically, and Mikey tensed, ready to jump in and point out she had two of “those people” sitting at her table. Jimmy caught his gaze, though, and gave a small shake of his head.
Don’t
, his expression seemed to say.
Let it go for now.

“Well, the two of you did a great job.” Jimmy graced her with a winning smile, and she blushed again. Mikey had to choke back a laugh and reached for his water glass as cover. The movement appeared to nudge his father out of his silence at the end of the table, and he cleared his throat.

“The salad is delicious,” he said. “Do you need any help with the main course, dear?”

Leann straightened her spine and rose gracefully to her feet. “No, thank you, darling,” she replied smoothly. “It’s no trouble at all. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, and Jimmy reached for his glass of wine. Mikey hadn’t touched his, even though his father had poured a glass for each of them. He just wasn’t a fan of reds. Jimmy caught Mikey’s eye over the top of his glass as he sipped his wine. He lowered his glass, flashed Mikey a quick smile, and then set down his glass before turning to Mikey’s father. He asked if the house had been a new build when they moved in, but Mikey tuned out his father’s responses. Instead he watched the way Jimmy studied his father.

Even with the limited time Mikey had spent with Jimmy, he noted he got a certain look on his face when he was gauging a situation or planning his next move. From the way he engaged his father now, Mikey could picture him in a courtroom, questioning an opposition witness, steering the responses down an ever-narrowing path until he had his prey cornered.

The mental image of Jimmy wearing a sharply tailored business suit, stalking the occupant of the witness stand like a cougar, sent a wave of lust and longing through Mikey. Shit. He would not let himself get turned on at his parents’ dinner table. Forcing the scene his mind had drawn out of his head, he reached for his water glass again just as his mother came back into the room carrying a plate in each hand.

“Here we are!” She practically sang the words as she moved to the head of the table, where she placed the first serving in front of Mikey’s father, which even Mikey knew was some kind of breach of etiquette. But the other plate went to Jimmy seconds later, and Jimmy turned another of his brilliant smiles on her.

“Smells wonderful, Leann.” He picked up his wine glass and lifted it in toast. “Thank you so much.”

She blushed yet again and headed back to the kitchen, reemerging moments later with two more plates. These she set down at her place and Mikey’s nearly at the same moment. She smiled and took her seat. “Darling, I know we’ve already started on our salads, but would you say grace for us?”

Rev. O’Malley nodded and bowed his head. Mikey followed suit, relieved they wouldn’t have to hold hands around the table. His father looked at Jimmy like he didn’t quite trust him, so Mikey couldn’t imagine them holding hands being anything but awkward.

“Heavenly Father,” Rev. O’Malley began. “We come before you with humble hearts, asking your forgiveness for the manifold ways in which we have sinned before you. We are weak, and we succumb to the pleasures of this evil world. The pleasures of the flesh.” Mikey fought not to flinch. “We beseech you to guide us, set our feet on the path of righteousness. Teach us to live our lives in a manner that is pleasing to you.

“Now, Lord, bless this food that it may nourish and sustain our bodies, so that we may use them in greater service to you. In the name of your son, Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.”

A duet of “amen”s echoed his father’s, and Mikey lifted his head in surprise. Jimmy just smiled serenely across the table at him as he picked up his knife and fork.

“This looks delicious, Leann,” he said as he cut into a piece of meat. “It’s one of my favorites. I love traditional dishes so much more than whatever’s trendy at the time.” He chuckled as he scooped up beef and mushrooms onto his fork. “Must be the Sicilian in me. My grandmother was always going on about ‘the kids these days’ and all the craziness the younger generations got up to. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to understand a lot of what she meant.”

He popped his forkful into his mouth and chewed slowly, watching Mrs. O’Malley, who simpered as she cut a piece of beef in half. “I completely agree,” she said. “I cannot believe what I see happening around me these days. People living openly in sin, flaunting their perverse lifestyles as if it’s normal and acceptable. Why, just last week at the grocery store, I saw my favorite women’s magazine had that awful actor on the cover. What’s his name, dear? Patrick O’Neill?”

“Neil Patrick Harris.”

Mikey recognized his father’s tone of voice. He’d heard his wife’s rant before.

“Yes! That one.” Mikey’s mother waved her fork in the air. “Some ridiculous thing about what a good parent he is.” She curled her lip in disgust. “Those poor, darling children. I can’t imagine what people were thinking, letting those people adopt innocent little babies. It’s child abuse, that’s what it is.”

“Leann.” Mikey recognized that tone of voice too, and so did his mother. She subsided immediately, slumping back into her seat, then shifted forward and turned her attention back to her food.

“I do apologize for bringing up such an unpleasant topic,” she murmured. “I hope the boeuf Bourguignon came out well. I tried a slightly different recipe this time. Judy had a vintage cookbook of her mother’s….”

Mikey tuned her out. A moment later something bumped against his foot under the table. He lifted his gaze to meet Jimmy’s and got a brief smile and another foot bump. This time the touch didn’t go away. Jimmy pressed both of his feet on either side of Mikey’s. It wasn’t a hug in any traditional sense, but it sure felt like one to Mikey. He managed a small smile in response and wished even harder for dinner to end, not just so they could escape the overwhelmingly oppressive awkwardness, but so he could bury himself in Jimmy’s arms. When he got away from his parents, he’d be able to be himself again.

When he got away.
He thought he’d already gotten away, and yet here he sat, right back under their microscope.

Not for long, though. Hell, he could get up and leave right then if he wanted to. But as much as he hated this, he’d hate the drama more. So he’d just ignore his mother, concentrate on eating, and get them the hell out of there as soon as dinner was over.

 

 

A
TORTUROUS
hour later, Mikey and Jimmy made polite good-byes and headed down the sidewalk to where Jimmy’s rental car sat parked next to the curb. The passenger side faced the house, so Jimmy unlocked and opened the door before heading around the back end of the car to his side. Mikey could almost feel Jimmy resisting the urge to hold the door for Mikey and help him into the car, and it brought a tiny ghost of a smile to his face as he climbed into the seat.

Once they were settled, Jimmy started the car and headed out, but they’d gone only a few blocks when he whipped the car over to the side of the road and slammed it into park. Mikey turned to him, wide-eyed, but before he could ask, Jimmy had practically crawled across the console and wrapped both hands around Mikey’s head to pull him into a bruising kiss.

Mikey surrendered without hesitation, opening his mouth to let Jimmy plunder at will. The kiss went on and on, Jimmy using his grip on Mikey’s face to tilt his head back and forth until Mikey was dizzy from the movement and the need for oxygen.

Finally Jimmy wrenched himself away. In the dim glow of the streetlights, his eyes glittered like black diamonds.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey.” The words were a vow Mikey felt in his soul. “I promise you that. All of this. It is going to be okay.”

Heart and dick pounding, Mikey could only nod, and Jimmy stole one more fast, deep kiss before driving them back to Kitty’s for the night.

 

 

M
IKEY
YAWNED
as Jimmy pulled into the parking lot at Warren Vickery’s law office. Even with the soothing feel of Jimmy wrapped around him, sleep had been hard to come by the night before. Coffee and a shower hadn’t helped much, but at least he felt like he could function.

Mikey had hoped maybe he and Jimmy would fool around some when they’d gotten back to Kitty’s, but they hadn’t done more than a little kissing and cuddling before falling asleep, emotional and physical exhaustion taking their toll. Jimmy seemed to be sharper than Mikey this morning, so maybe he could keep up with things better. He’d understand the discussions more than Mikey would anyway.

When they got inside, Mikey’s father was already waiting for them. He stood and gave Jimmy a cordial nod and handshake, then, to Mikey’s surprise, he gave Mikey a hug. He didn’t apologize verbally for what had happened at dinner the night before, but Mikey could feel his contrition in his actions.

For a moment he could understand his father’s position. Head of a large congregation of Florida conservatives who looked to him for guidance and married to a clearly homophobic woman who came from the same old money that had founded the church, he risked losing everything if he were to suddenly come out in favor of homosexuality or gay rights. Mikey had no idea how his father felt about the topic on a personal level, but from the way he’d been treating Mikey, he didn’t think Rob O’Malley’s private opinions matched up with the teachings of Rev. O’Malley’s church.

BOOK: Wayward Son
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