by Alexa Land
My father’s blue eyes actually became a little misty, which was surprising. He got to his feet as he said, “You’re a good kid, Ignacio, and your mum would’ve been proud. I’m off to the jacks, then maybe we can pop the cork on that bubbly.” He sauntered off to the bathroom.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Ignacio fell back against the couch and muttered, “I can’t believe I groped you in front of your father.”
“And the dry-humping too, don’t forget that.” I couldn’t keep the amusement out of my voice.
“What must he think of me?”
“That you’re really into his son.”
“That I am.” Ignacio grinned at me, and we both leaned back against the couch. I curled up against his side, and he put his arm around me and asked, “Is he really as cool as he seems to be with the fact that you’re gay?”
“Yeah. I’ve always found it surprising, actually. He’s pretty old-school with a lot of things, and he was raised in the Catholic church, so I expected the worst when I came out to him in my late teens. But he just shrugged and said, ‘You’re the way God made you, ain’t no point in getting upset about it.’ And that was that.”
“Wow. I’m so glad he accepted you.”
“Yeah. It’s funny, almost everything else about me has been a point of contention, but not the one thing I expected him to have a hard time with. The auld fella’s full of surprises.” Ignacio chuckled, and I asked, “What?”
“Your Irish accent is twice as thick as when you left the states.”
“Is it?” When he nodded, I said, “Well, I am a Dubliner after all, born and raised.”
His smile widened, and he said, “I love the fact that you’re rediscovering your roots.”
“I suppose I’m doing exactly that.”
“Speaking of roots, you look absolutely nothing like your father.”
“I know. Everyone tells me I look just like my mum, but aside from the auburn hair, I really don’t see that resemblance, either.”
“Your dad kind of looks like that actor, Gerard Butler.”
“Or more specifically, Gerard’s much older brother.”
Ignacio asked, “Did you get a chance to talk to his girlfriend?”
“Yeah, and it didn’t go well. I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Is he alright?”
“Hard to say. He’s the type of man who could be bleeding to death and claim to need nothing more than a bandage.” I cupped Ignacio’s cheek and asked, “What made you drop everything and rush to Ireland? I’m thrilled you’re here, of course. I just wonder what prompted the change in plans.”
“After we got off the phone last night, I decided we’ve spent far too much of our relationship in different countries, and that being here with you was more important than attending a meeting.” He smiled at me and added, “Plus, it’s so much fun to surprise you.”
His lips met mine, and we both lost ourselves in a kiss for a long moment, until my dad said, “I’d tell you to get a room, but you’ve already got one. Maybe I should give you some privacy.”
We grinned embarrassedly, and Ignacio said, “Please stay, Mr. Doyle. I’d love the chance to get to know you.”
My father hesitated, then said, “Well, if you’re sure I’m not in the way.”
I reached for the bottle of champagne and said, “Of course you’re not, Dad. I love having my two favorite people in the same place at the same time. In fact, we need to do this more often.”
*****
About three hours later, my dad fell asleep on the couch. I draped a blanket over him, and Ignacio and I headed to the bedroom and closed the connecting door as quietly as we could. After we got ready for bed and slid under the covers, he said, “It’s nice to see you and your father getting along. I thought I might end up acting as referee during our visit, but you actually seem to be enjoying each other’s company.”
“It’s surprising. When I first got here, it seemed like we were going to fall back into our old patterns and bicker about everything. But it’s almost like we’ve reached some sort of unspoken understanding.”
“Maybe he’s mellowing with age.”
“Actually, I think we both are,” I said. “It takes two to argue, after all. That’s why he and my mom had such a volatile relationship. All he had to do was look at her funny, and she’d fly off the handle. That in turn would piss him off, and it all just built on itself. Maybe I’m finally at a point in my life where I’ve realized I don’t have to take the bait.”
He grinned and said, “That sounds remarkably mature.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” I grinned too, and then I leaned in and kissed him.
After making out for a few minutes, Ignacio took a deep breath and said, “I desperately want you to fuck me, but it’s weird with your dad in the next room.”
“You’re right, it is.”
I rested my head on his chest, and he stroked my hair. After a while, he said, “I have a question for you. Actually, I’ve had it for a while. But I’ve never brought it up, because I think I might know the answer….”
I glanced up at him and said, “You can ask me anything.”
He watched me for a moment in the semi-darkness, and then he said, “Let me preface this by saying I’m perfectly happy with the way things are, and I love our sex life.”
“You’re about to ask me why I never want to bottom, aren’t you?”
His voice was so gentle when he said, “Is it that you used to, with that other person who lied to you?”
“Exactly.” The word was barely audible.
He wrapped his arms around me and said, “I shouldn’t have said anything. I always assumed that was why we never went there, and I should have left it at that.”
“I might get to the point where I can do that again…eventually.”
“No pressure, Cam.” He went back to stroking my hair.
“Our relationship has been the best thing for me in a million ways. Before I met you, I was sure I’d never be able to trust again, and I’m so grateful to you for proving me wrong.” He kissed my forehead, and I said, “I still have a way to go, obviously. The idea of letting myself be penetrated stirs up a lot of anxiety. I hate the fact that I associate it so strongly with that other person. I also really hate the fact that he still has any influence whatsoever on my life.”
“Like I said, no pressure. I love it when you’re inside me, and if that’s how we fuck for the rest of our lives, I’ll be perfectly satisfied.”
“You’re an amazingly patient person.”
“I wasn’t always,” he said. “Actually, I used to have a lot of anger issues.”
I traced his bare shoulder and said, “I can’t even imagine that. It’s like you’re talking about some other person.”
“In a way, I am. I’m not that man anymore.”
He shifted a bit and repositioned his arms around me, and after a few moments, I said, “Would you mind if we postpone heading to the country for a couple of days? I want to make sure my dad’s pub is pretty well situated before we take off.”
“Sure. I haven’t had a chance to find us a country cottage yet anyway.”
“There are several museums right around the hotel,” I told him. “Hopefully you can find ways to amuse yourself while my dad and I finish the demolition on the fire-damaged parts of his pub.”
“I’d love to see those museums, but we can do that together, next time we come to Dublin to visit your dad. On this trip, there’s work to do. You don’t really think I’d leave you and Doc to demo the pub on your own, do you?”
“That’s not your responsibility,” I said. “I want you to relax and enjoy your vacation.”
“I fully intend to enjoy it, especially when we get to a secluded cottage where I can spend days in bed with you. But I’m also going to enjoy working with you and your dad.”
“You’re amazing.” I kissed him and whispered, “I’ll never know how I got so lucky.”
Chapter Eleven
I braced myself with my hands and both feet as Ignacio shifted gears in the rental car and wove through Dublin traffic at twice the speed limit. Despite telling me he had very little experience driving right-hand steering cars, he seemed ultra-confident. When he glanced at me over his sunglasses, I exclaimed, “Keep your eyes on the road!” I sounded a bit hysterical.
Ignacio grinned at me. Then he slammed down on the clutch and shifted gears again. The little black Renault’s engine growled, in a way it surely never had before.
I said, “It’s like Jekyll and Hyde! How can you be the most laid-back guy ever, then morph into a speed demon when you get behind the wheel?”
“You should relax. I’d never let anything happen to you, Cam.”
“Prove that by slowing down!”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because the only way to deal with big city traffic is to drive aggressively. Watch.”
The cars ahead of us were slowing, so he wove among the three lanes like we were jockeying for position at the Indianapolis 500. Once he passed a slow-moving truck, the highway actually did open up a bit, proving his point. I exhaled slowly and released my white knuckle grip on the grab bar above the passenger door. He was still driving fast, but I could handle that part. It was the weaving that made me twitchy.
Before long (especially at those speeds), Dublin was in our rearview mirror, and I asked, “Are you ready to tell me where we’re going?”
“Nope. It’s a surprise.” I studied his profile and decided he looked very pleased with himself.
“It’s going to be a surprise regardless,” I told him. “I’ve spent very little time in the central part of Ireland, so anyplace we go is going to be brand new.”
“Patience, sweetheart.”
I grinned and said, “You’ve never called me that before.”
“I know. Generally, I’m not one for sappy nicknames, or nicknames of any kind really, but I’m in the mood today. Maybe the holiday season is making me sentimental.” After a few moments, he slid his sunglasses to the top of his head and said, “Wow, would you look at that. It’s almost unbelievably green.” All around us were wide open vistas and gently rolling hills, punctuated by the occasional flock of sheep or small village. It was hard to believe we were less than an hour outside Dublin.
“There’s a reason everyone calls it the Emerald Isle, speaking of nicknames. You know why it’s so green, though. It’s because of all that fecking rain.”
The sun had finally come out that Sunday, just in time for Christmas Eve, after a long, soggy week working on the pub. Fortunately, the roof hadn’t sustained any damage, but countless trips to the dumpster in the pouring rain had been less than ideal. We’d gotten the job done though, and I’d found a pair of builders in the neighborhood who were happy to take the job repairing the pub. They were going to start right after the holidays, and with the plans we’d made, my father’s business was going to end up even better than before.
Ignacio’s grin widened. “I love the fact that it’s fecking now, instead of fucking.” He pulled up a very convincing Irish accent and said, “I’m wonderin’ if yer gonna lapse back into soundin’ American when we get back home, or if this newly discovered thoroughly Irish Cameron Doyle is here to stay.”
“My accent might be slightly more pronounced than when I got here,” I told him, “but it’s not nearly as thick as what you just did. I will say though, you sounded exactly like a native Dubliner, which is impressive.”
“Thanks,” he said, returning to his Spanish accent. “I actually quite like the sound of an Irish brogue. It’s soothing, somehow. At least, it is when it’s coming from you. Less so when it’s your dad bitching about the shortcomings of his favorite football team.” That made me laugh.
About half an hour later, Ignacio pulled a bandana from the pocket of his leather jacket and held it out to me as he said, “Blindfold time.”
“Seriously?”
“I’m making a turn pretty soon, and I don’t want you to see what the sign says.”
“How do you have any idea where you’re going? You’re not even using a GPS.”
“I studied a map ahead of time.”
I took the blindfold from him and said, “And just from that, you’re able to find your way around a foreign country?”
“Sure. It’s a lot easier here than, let’s say, China, where I managed to speak the language but never did learn to read it. At least the road signs are comprehensible…mostly. I have no idea what that says, though.”
He gestured at a Gaelic place name on a sign at the side of the road. It was probably fifteen letters long. I wasn’t sure what it said either, since the pronunciation was bound to be vastly different than the spelling.
I held up the bandana and asked, “How long do I have to wear this?”
“Twenty minutes, maybe? We’re pulling off the main road very soon, and it should be about that long until we reach our destination.” I knit my brows, and Ignacio smiled sweetly and said, “Humor me.”
“It’s impossible to say no to you.” I took off my sunglasses and tied the bandana around my eyes. Then I said, “Now I won’t even be able to scream in terror if you drive us into a ditch.”
“No ditch driving, I promise.”
About two minutes later, Ignacio took a left turn, and the car bounced and swayed. My hands shot out to brace myself, and he said, “Turns out, it’s a dirt road. It’s in pretty bad condition, too. I should have rented a four-by-four.”
“I’m taking the blindfold off, so I know what to tell the rescue workers when they pull us out of that ditch.”
“Please don’t.”
Ignacio slowed down and rested a hand on my thigh. It felt nice, but I picked it up and clumsily stuck it back on the steering wheel. That made him chuckle.
Even though I couldn’t see the time, I was sure it took much longer than twenty minutes to bounce our way down that pitted dirt road. When the car finally came to a stop, I said, “Please tell me it’s over.”
Ignacio cut the engine, and then he gently caressed my cheek. “We’re here, Cam. Thank you for being a good sport. Keep the blindfold on just a minute more, I’m going to come around and get you.”
I unfastened my seatbelt, and a few moments later, the passenger door opened. Ignacio guided me out of the car, and then he drew me into his arms and nuzzled my cheek. When he whispered in my ear, “I like you all helpless like this,” desire skittered down my spine.
“We’re keeping the blindfold for later.” He tilted my chin up and kissed me, and then he removed the bandana and stuck it in his pocket. I smiled and said, “Hi.”
“Hello. I hope you like your surprise.” The look of anticipation on his face was adorable.
I turned toward the charming stone cottage beside us. It was golden in the setting sun and framed by several ancient-looking trees. There wasn’t another house in sight, just sprawling pastureland bracketed by rolling hills.
I exclaimed, “You found us a cottage just like my grandfather’s!” I took Ignacio’s hand and began to head to the front door, but then I stopped in my tracks as realization dawned on me, and I murmured, “My God, it’s not like it, it’s his actual cottage. But how?”
“I asked your dad about it, and then I tracked down the woman he sold it to.”
“And she’s letting us use it?”
“This cottage was in your family for almost two hundred years. Your dad told me one of his biggest regrets in life was selling it, because he realized after the fact that it should have gone to you. I thought something really needed to be done about that.” He put two keys in my hand, which were tied together with a red silk ribbon. “Merry Christmas, Cam.”
My mouth fell open, and then I stammered, “You bought it?” When he nodded, a tear tumbled down my cheek, and I threw my arms around him. “This is the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me, but you shouldn’t have spent so much money, Ignacio! How could yo
u even afford it?”
“The owner made me a good deal. She said she bought it with the intention of coming out to the country every weekend and relaxing, but she hadn’t actually made it out here in well over a year. Fortunately, she paid someone to look after the place, and I asked the housekeeper to come by yesterday and get it ready for us. She was supposed to stock the fridge and clean up a bit, and she also packed up the previous owner’s possessions, so it’s all ours now.”
I said, “I need to reimburse you for this. I appreciate it so much, but you must have wiped out your savings.”
“This is a gift, so I don’t want to hear anything about reimbursements.”
“But you were going to use that money for a down-payment on an apartment in San Francisco.”
He said, “So, now I’ll have to wait a year or so before I can afford to do that.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“There will always be other apartments, but there’s only one Doyle Cottage. The woman said she’d been planning to put it on the market. If someone else bought it, then it might have been gone forever.”
I grasped his face between my palms, as much as I could with the keys in my hand, and kissed him as a little sob slipped from me. He ran his thumb over my cheek and said, “I’ve never seen you cry before.”
“I’m not crying. I don’t do that.”
He grinned and wiped another stray tear from my face. “My mistake. Want to look inside?”
I nodded and unlocked the red front door. A leafy, green vine grew up and over it in a natural arch, and it was flanked by a pair of small windows whose frames had also been painted the same cheerful shade of crimson. When I stepped into the living room, my breath caught.
