The Innocence Series: Complete Bundle

by Riley Knight

  He still wasn’t sure he would be able to make something work long-term with someone who couldn’t be open about their sexuality. But he would try. The only thing that he absolutely insisted on was that he be able to tell Stephen about what was going on. Because it had occurred to him if he had only gone to Stephen sooner and told him about Jack, it would have saved himself a lot of heartache.

  Stephen didn’t want Jack around. Stephen barely remembered Jack, and what he did remember didn’t seem to be positive. It was one of the things that Will had explained to Jack, though Jack had only really seemed to take it seriously when Will had threatened to get a restraining order. He strangely wasn’t even angry at Jack anymore. He just wanted him out of his life, and Stephen’s, for good.

  And Jack had gone. Something about the look in his eyes, about the way he cussed Will out as he went, had given Will the distinct impression that he was gone forever this time. If not, Will was more than capable of doing just as he said, of getting rid of him by legal means, if he had to. It would be humiliating for Jack, though, and if there was anything that Jack couldn’t stand, it was being humiliated.

  So that was dealt with. It could have been dealt with much sooner, however, if Will had just trusted his son. Stephen had never, ever given him any cause not to, so yes, that would have to happen. Judah would have to give him permission to talk to Stephen about all of this, though the truth was, Will had gotten the distinct idea that his son had already known, or at least suspected.

  Very quietly, Will slipped into the church, surrounding himself with a group of people. He had never heard Judah preach before, and he found that he didn’t want Judah to know that he was there. Not just yet. He wanted to see Judah in his element and watch the man he loved for a while without Judah knowing it.

  So he found a place in the very back, though he saw Stephen and the others up near the front. But the bench-like pews up there were crowded, and with how he had behaved lately, he knew that he was going to have to make some apologies to those people before he could expect to be welcomed back.

  He had tried to hold Stephen back from them, from this whole town, and he knew now how unfair that had been. These people had been nothing but kind to Stephen, and even to Will, though he certainly had never deserved it.

  The air had been filled with chatter, with the happy sounds of people greeting each other, which was pleasant. But everyone quieted down, and Will finally turned his eyes toward the front of the church, to the person that he had most definitely come to see. For the man who was at least half of the reason that Will was here at all.

  The first part of it was familiar. Jack had brought Will to church a few times, and the opening of this service was pretty much the same. The only real difference was that it was Judah up there, Judah intoning the ritualistic words of welcome, and in that same deep, seductive voice which had whispered things that were quite a bit dirtier.

  Probably not something that he needed to be thinking about, though.

  Judah looked good. He looked right up there, Will had to admit, though it felt strange. He was completely at home in those robes, or whatever they were called, which made it really, truly clear to him for perhaps the first time that the man he loved was a minister. He should have picked that up sooner, and he had logically known it, but seeing him here in his element, it was a whole other thing.

  This, he could accept. Keeping the relationship a secret, he wasn’t sure about that, but Judah being a man of God, having faith, that he could do. Despite everything that had happened between him and Jack, despite all of the bad impressions that he had gotten of religion, he had learned something.

  These were good people. Really, truly good people, who cared a lot about the same sort of things that Will himself cared about. Who wanted little more than to be decent people, and they had been kind to him, and to his son, and welcomed them in.

  And, of course, this religion thing was very important to two people that Will loved more than anything else in the world. He knew that his son, and Judah, were truly good people, trustworthy and compassionate, and he had judged them unfairly.

  And then it happened. The one thing that Will had still been still struggling with, the one objection that he might have had, it suddenly all went up in smoke as he watched Judah at the front. When he saw how the other man hesitated, when he saw the slight uncertainty come over his face, then a firming of his resolve.

  When Judah spoke, it was in a much more conversational tone than Will would have expected. Now, granted, he wasn’t the biggest expert on how religious services generally went, but he had been to a few, and he was pretty sure that there was supposed to be a prayer now.

  “I’m gay.”

  The words echoed through the room, but more than that, they echoed through Will’s heart and soul. Right then and there, sitting in a church service for the first time in years and years, all objection vanished completely. He was left alone, and vulnerable, and open to something that he had thought to be a lost cause.

  Judah had come out. And not just to a few people, but in a deeply, intensely public way, a way which would be impossible to deny later. Looking up into Judah’s intense, glistening eyes, watching the determined set of his shoulders and lips, Will felt something happen deep in his heart.

  It was the last remnants of the wall that he had built up, the ice that he had let himself form, as they utterly vanished, as his heart melted.

  For a moment, Will couldn’t move. He could only sit there and stare at Judah like he was the most fascinating being who had ever existed, because honestly, to Will, he was. He could only listen to the words which Judah kept saying, to listen to the strength of his voice, of his convictions, as he explained himself but never made apologies. He wasn’t defensive. He was merely matter of fact, telling them something that even he acknowledged that he should have told them long ago.

  If Will hadn’t already been in love with Judah, that would have been enough to seal the deal right then and there. He had been trying to hold back, he had been trying to do the logical thing and wait and see until he heard what Judah had to say, but he gave himself, his heart, over to Judah at that moment and he knew that it was irrevocable, unending. Whether Judah wanted to have him or not, he belonged to Judah.

  He didn’t make a conscious decision to move, and it certainly wasn’t the most logical thing to do. The calm, rational thing would be for him to stay where he was, to listen to the rest of the service, and to pull Judah aside later. Certainly not to call attention to himself by standing and starting to walk toward the front of the room.

  It was just that it seemed that his heart was overruling his brain on this one. It wasn’t the sort of thing that happened all that often to him, or hardly ever, really, but there it was. He was being pulled toward Judah just as surely as two magnets would be drawn together, a force that started off subtle but grew stronger with every step he took.

  He was almost running by the end, and he didn’t care who was watching. He didn’t care how much he was probably going to hurt his pride on this one, or how inappropriate it was to pull a pastor toward him in the middle of a church service.

  He had Judah in his arms, and that was all that really mattered. Without the slightest hesitation, without giving it even the tiniest bit of thought, Will pressed their lips together, right there in front of everyone in the town, practically, as well as many people that Will didn’t know, people who were complete strangers to him.

  Who started the clapping, Will didn’t know. But when he turned around and saw the grin on Ben’s face, he would have to put his money on him, or maybe Stephen, who was grinning like a madman. A few people, and then more, joined in, until the good people of the town, the people who Will had been so sure would be homophobic hicks, were on their feet, smiling and applauding and genuinely looking happy.

  There were a few people who weren’t, of course. Even a town as welcoming as this one had people who couldn’t approve of this sort of thing and Will accepted that
.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Judah said, when the kiss finally broke, his arm going around Will’s waist, a smile on his face which wouldn’t quit. “This is my boyfriend. I think a lot of you know him already, but for those of you who don’t, his name is Will Sanford, and he’s the reason that I get up in the morning.”

  Which was, by far, the nicest, most romantic thing that anyone had ever said about him. And Judah’s body felt so right, so perfect, against his, even through the thick robes. He still smelled like Judah. He smelled sweet and familiar and beloved, and Will’s.

  Will’s lips were still tingling, and he gazed out at the congregation, and his friends and family, and he realized at that moment just how much things really had changed. Just like that, he had a boyfriend, and hope for a real future with him.

  He had fought so long and so hard against this, but he couldn’t pretend, even to himself, that he didn’t want it. And from the smile on his face, he wouldn’t put great odds on him fooling anyone else, either.

  Oddly, he didn’t mind that one bit.

  TWENTY FIVE

  It seemed sort of farcical for Judah to try to preach a sermon after what had just happened, and honestly, for once in his life, he doubted he would be able to focus, anyway. He was far too aware of the man at his side, of his warmth and life and presence, and honestly, he didn’t want to be away from him for the hour that it would take for him to rush through a service that he knew he wouldn’t do justice to.

  “Go now in peace,” he said, and for the first time, the words were not nearly as solemn as they were supposed to be. Of course, for the first time, he also had a man by his side, which was unusual, to say the least.

  No one even seemed surprised by his abrupt dismissal, and very few people seemed to be upset about it. There were a few little blue-haired old ladies who stuck their noses up in the air and stalked out, but that was about it.

  For the most part, the entire congregation moved en masse out of the Sanctuary and down the stairs into the basement. There, he found himself separated from Will, and maybe that would annoy him a little bit more if not for the fact that the person who pulled Will away from Judah was Stephen.

  From what Judah had heard, Stephen and his dad had some talking to do, and he was quickly distracted. Ben, Isaac, they both wanted to congratulate him, acting like he and Will had gotten married or something instead of just publicly declaring their affections. Sam and Gunner replaced them, and then Sheila, and it just continued from there.

  Everyone wanted to share their opinion on the matter, it seemed, and the general reaction was one of celebration, or maybe it was more relief. People had been wondering about why he wasn’t married yet, and now, they had their answer. It seemed like the good people of this town had just wanted to know what was going on, for the most part.

  A few people were a tiny bit pointed in their comments, but no one was outright rude. As much of a miracle as it seemed to him, these people were accepting him. There was no outcry, no calling for him to be kicked out of their church, their town, or even to be defrocked and removed from the Ministry.

  Which he knew was potentially something that could happen, but that was a bridge that he could cross if and when it became necessary. For now, he basked in the warm sea of the approval and support of his friends and his congregation.

  He was actually so distracted by it that when someone came up behind him, he didn’t even notice at first. It was only when the sweet old lady that he was speaking with gave him an understanding smile and backed away that he had any idea anything was going on.

  And the voice took him by surprise.

  “So, I’m your boyfriend, am I?” he heard, and he would have been able to hear that honey-smooth voice through any crowd of people, no matter how loud they were. And the church basement was packed enough, everyone drinking coffee or tea and chatting as the kids drank juice and wove through what had to seem to them to be a forest of grown-up legs.

  “I am.” Judah was facing away from Will, and even when he tried to look over his shoulder, he wasn’t able to see him, so he couldn’t read his face. He added cautiously, “I mean, I am if you want me to be.”

  Slender, strong arms slid around his waist, tugging him close, and Judah felt something that he had been so sure he had lost forever. He felt the warm press of Will’s arms around him, the way his body nuzzled against him from behind as he was pulled into an embrace. And the really amazing thing was, they were surrounded by people and yet no one was complaining. They all already knew.

  He should have come out a long time ago. He should have taken that step forward, that leap of faith, because he had an idea that these people would have been there to catch him the whole time.

  What a strange, wonderful thought.

  “Just shut up,” Will murmured, but there was no malice, no anger, in his voice. Instead, he sounded more amused than anything else, and his arm stayed firmly around Judah’s waist like it belonged there as he pulled Judah aside.

  It was just a little nook of the basement, nowhere really, truly private, but they were left alone there. Maybe no one saw them go. More likely, they were being given the privacy. Either way, it was too loud elsewhere in the basement for anyone to hear them. That was good enough for Judah.

  “Thank you for taking care of him,” Will started, gesturing over to where at least one person was watching them anxiously. Stephen was ignoring Ruby and Jesse both, even though they were standing right there, to watch Will and Judah, like he could somehow hear what they were saying just through sheer willpower.

  “Of course.” Judah hesitated for a moment, but it was really the perfect opening, and he had certainly gotten into trouble by not talking to each other. They both had. If this was going to work, they were both going to need to get over that habit. “He came to tell me a rather remarkable story.”

  Will sighed, but his smile was fond as he looked over at his son for a moment.

  “It’s probably true, but there’re things that he doesn’t know.” Will took a deep breath, and then his eyes shifted back to Judah’s, and he kept on speaking.

  “Jack was over. I’m sure that he told you that, but it wasn’t what it has to seem like. It never was.” He looked at Judah as though it was absolutely critical that he believed him, and Judah found that he did. He nodded, and Will kept going. “He called me from the bar. He was drunk. I didn’t know where he was staying.”

  Those few words painted a vivid picture, and Judah felt his shoulders relax. He had been aware on some level that Will wouldn’t have ever come here to see him at all if he and Jack were together, but it was still a huge relief to hear the words.

  “I understand,” Judah told him, and he did. No matter what Jack’s relationship was with Will now, he was still a human being, and it sounded like he was still suffering. Gently, he reached over, his touch almost a question as he took Will’s hand into his own.

  “Do you?” Impatience was in his grasp as Will gripped Judah’s hand, lacing their fingers together with a sort of desperation that Judah found even more comforting. He wasn’t alone in this. “Because I don’t. I’ve picked up after him long enough. Besides, he lied to me. He told me that he was sober. I’m done with him.”

  Judah hadn’t been about to insist on that, but he couldn’t deny that he thought it was a good idea. He squeezed Will’s fingers, felt the way they tightened around his in return.

  “I mean it. I told Jack I would get a restraining order if I had to,” Will insisted, not that Judah had expressed any doubt on the matter. And he probably would have gone on, so clearly desperate for Judah to believe him that it was over with Jack.

  Only Judah did believe him. He knew this man to be honest, and fair, and ethical, and it was unthinkable that he would lie. So he leaned in and kissed him, just a light little brush of his lips which nevertheless had him tingling for more. But there were limits, and people might not be outright watching, but they were around, and Judah was sure they had a few eyes on
them.

  “I’m sorry,” Judah whispered, their lips still almost together, just a fraction of an inch from brushing together. Judah could feel the heat radiating off of his boyfriend’s body. “I never should have left you.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” Will agreed, but there was a smile on his lips and a gleam of something like mischief in his eyes. “But then, I should have told you about Jack. I just didn’t know what we were doing. So I’m sorry, too.”

  Just like that, it seemed, everything was forgiven. And everything had been made official, too, he and Will were actually, truly together, something that had seemed so impossible to Judah even a few months ago when he’d still been desperately clinging to that secret with everything in him. Looking back at it now, though, he could see how it had been fraying, wearing thin, even before he’d met Will.

  One more brief kiss, and then, hand in hand, the two of them went off into the sea of people that was Judah’s congregation. The atheist and the man of faith, together at last, and even though Judah had known all along that it couldn’t work, somehow it worked perfectly.

  TWENTY SIX

  WILL

  Christmas was drawing near, and Will was discovering that Christmas was quite a different thing when he was in love with a pastor. Not to mention, Stephen had bought into the whole thing with his complete heart and soul. It had been what Will had feared once, losing Stephen to religion just as he had lost Jack, but now that it had happened, he found that he hadn’t lost Stephen at all.

  If anything, their relationship was better than ever. It was so much less strained now that this issue wasn’t resting between them. Like so many things in life, the fear of something happening was actually worse than the thing itself, and that had certainly proven to be true in this case.