As for reactions to him and Russ being a couple, Ernesto had been a little weird that first Monday morning when they’d sat together at the breakfast table and Russ had been his usual wonderfully unashamed, affectionate self, but Ernie was the only one. Phyllis had even taken him aside after breakfast to make sure he was okay, and she’d been the one he’d worried about most.
“Don’t you worry about Ernie,” she’d said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that happy smile that’s been plastered on your face since Saturday has suddenly vanished, and I’m trying to tell you it doesn’t need to.”
“Am I that obvious?”
She’d smiled. “I’d tell ya to stay away from the poker tables, except I know you were hiding a lot more than you showed when you first got here. And you must’ve done a fair job of hiding your feelings at home, if your parents didn’t catch on before you broke it to ’em.”
“I finally told them because I was tired of all the hiding,” he admitted.
With a nod, she’d patted him on the shoulder. “And you shouldn’t have to. Least not among friends. But I saw you pulling away from Russ a bit, so I figured I’d poke my nose in and tell you that you don’t have to. We may be a bit more rural than you’re used to, but that don’t mean we’re all as closed-minded as your folks. Jon’s pretty oblivious to affairs of the heart, but he’s never had a problem with Russ.” She paused and grimaced. “Ernie was a slightly different story. The man’s Catholic, born and raised, so he and Russ had a bit of a problem to start. I think it even came to blows at some point. I wasn’t there or I’d have taken a switch to both their hides and had Sean dunk ’em in a horse trough to cool off. But whatever happened, they came to some sort of understanding between ’em, and when Isaiah came into the picture, well—”
“Who’s Isaiah?”
She’d blinked at him for a second before waving her hands in the air. “Oh, he’s just a boy Russ dated a while back. The point is, Ernie’s made some sort of peace between his faith and his friends, so you don’t have to hold back or make yourself uncomfortable on his account. Okay? You got enough on your mind without havin’ to add to your worries.”
“Okay,” he’d agreed absently.
“Good. Now you go on and get to work. I have a kitchen to clean up, adoption paperwork to review, and donations from the weekend to take to the bank.”
She’d shooed him out the door and left him standing on the porch, wondering just how many boyfriends Russ had had. For being out in the middle of nowhere, Russ certainly seemed to be popular.
Even more than a week later, Jordan was still too chicken to ask. The answer would probably give him an anxiety attack anyway, since he was pretty sure he’d fallen head over heels already, stupid as that was in his current life situation.
“You’re so fucked-up right now it isn’t even funny,” he said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror before turning his back on it and hurrying down to breakfast.
AFTER LUNCH, and a furtive heavy petting session with Russ in the tack room, Jordan led Marina out into one of the pens to sun herself and get some fresh air while he mucked out her stall. Another week on antibiotics and a high-calorie diet had her looking better than ever, and Russ assured him her gentling was going so well they’d be getting her training started before he knew it. Of course, that meant she’d be that much closer to being adopted and leaving the ranch, which would probably break his heart a little, but maybe she’d be adopted somewhere close by and he could visit.
He froze halfway up the main aisle of the barn, still holding the handles of the wheelbarrow. What was he thinking? He might not even be at the B STAR in a few months’ time. He might not even be in Texas, so what did it matter where Marina ended up?
Shaking himself out of his daze, he finished pushing the wheelbarrow to the compost heap and dumped it. Thoughts of leaving the ranch left his stomach almost as twisted up as that ever-lurking emotional tidal wave from Virginia. It might be the coward’s way out, but he still wasn’t ready to deal with either. There were worse sins than a little procrastination, right? He wasn’t hurting anyone by putting off dealing with his shit just a little while longer.
The crunch of tires on the gravel drive outside the barn was a welcome distraction, bringing him back to the here and now. Trucks and cars came and went all the time, delivering supplies, prospective adopters, or curious visitors. Russ, Jon, and Ernie tended to hide from the latter, so that left Jordan to greet, if Phyl was busy. Poking his head around the side of the barn, he saw a white convertible pull in and park next to his red one. As the dust settled and a windblown mane of highlighted blonde hair came into focus, Jordan’s stomach flipped.
“Gemma,” he croaked.
His sister—in bling-encrusted brown Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses, tight white short shorts, and a pink tank top with “Extra AF” printed in silver glitter on the front—stepped out of the car. She didn’t see him at first, because she was busy talking to someone on her cell, but when she spotted him, she threw up her hands and squealed.
“Lacey, I gotta go. Hit me up later, ’kay?” she said into the phone before throwing her hands wide again and scampering toward Jordan in her white leather sandals.
Off-balance, all he could do was smile weakly at her as she gripped his upper arms and pulled him in for the two-cheek air kiss. He should have been overjoyed at having someone from his family so obviously happy to see him, but her presence on the ranch was jarring.
“Gemma, this is a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you,” he said lamely.
She shoved her sunglasses on top of her head and rolled her expertly made-up blue eyes. “That’s because you’re stupid… which seems to be running in the family these days.”
He was saved from trying to come up with a response to that when Phyllis came down the stairs from the house. A quick glance around showed Russ moving toward them from the horse pasture fence and Jon and Ernie watching from the other animal pens.
“Uh, Phyllis, you remember my sister, Gemma,” he stuttered out as Phyl joined them.
Phyl had been wearing her usual open, welcoming smile, but it widened even further as she took Gemma in. “My word, look at you! You’ve grown so much I woulda hardly recognized ya. How are you, darlin’?”
“Phyllis!” Gemma squealed. She danced over to Phyllis and threw her arms around the woman, giving her a real kiss on the cheek before withdrawing. “It has been forever since I’ve been here, but you look exactly as I remember you.”
Jordan felt Russ come up behind him. Russ didn’t touch him, but he hovered close, like he wanted to. As off-center as Jordan was at that moment, he didn’t know if he should be grateful or resentful of Russ’s restraint.
God, he was so fucked-up, and not at all prepared to deal with his little sister. She didn’t belong there with her polish and bling.
At a pointed look from Phyl, Jordan was jarred out of his self-absorption and minor internal freak-out. “Oh, uh, Gemma, this is Russ, Phyllis’s right-hand man. Russ, this is my sister, Gemma,” he stuttered out.
“Nice to meet you,” Russ said, giving her a nod. His voice was like warm honey over Jordan’s raw nerves, and Jordan felt himself leaning toward him before he snapped himself out of it.
Gemma eyed Russ speculatively and tossed her windblown blonde hair over her shoulder. She extended a limp pink-nailed hand and threw him a flirty smile. “And you.”
As Russ took the hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, Jordan frowned. Jealousy wasn’t an emotion he’d experienced often, but at least it helped snap him out of the mental tailspin he’d been in.
Before he could tell Gemma to keep her eyes and hands to herself, Phyl said, “You’ve had a long drive, darlin’. Why don’t you come on up to the house, and I’ll get you something to drink and a place to freshen up, if you like? You and Jordan here probably have some catching up to do.”
And just like that, Jordan’s stomach churned, he tensed back up again, and he fo
rgot all about his jealousy. His sister wasn’t there for a friendly visit. She wasn’t even there to steal his boyfriend. She was there to talk about family and everything else Jordan had been doing his best to avoid. He threw a panicked look at Russ, but Russ just gave him a reassuring half smile back.
“You visit with your family. I’ll take over in the barn,” Russ said.
Jordan swallowed and nodded. “Thanks,” he murmured, not really meaning it.
He followed Phyl and Gemma up the stairs as his stomach tried to claw its way past his spine.
Chickenshit.
Man up a little. It’s just your baby sister, for Christ’s sake.
There went his father’s voice again, but he found himself stiffening his spine despite how much he resented it.
In the kitchen, Phyllis bustled to the cabinets and then the refrigerator. “Would you like some lemonade, sweetie?”
“That’d be great, thanks.”
Gemma threw Jordan a smile that said how quaint she found all of this as she scanned the country-style kitchen, and Jordan winced. He’d had a similar reaction his first few days on the ranch. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, but in just a few weeks, the ranch had come to feel like a second home—or his only home, for that matter.
“There you go,” Phyllis said as she handed over two tall glasses, already damp with condensation. “Are you hungry, Gemma? Can I get ya somethin’?”
“Oh, no thank you, Phyllis. I had lunch at the airport while I waited for them to bring me the car I wanted.”
“All right,” Phyllis replied without batting a lash. “Then I think you two probably have some catching up to do, so I’ll leave you to it. Jordan here knows where everything is by now, if you do need anything, and I hope you stay for dinner so I can hear all about what you’ve been up to.”
In true Thorndike family style, Gemma’s answering smile was radiant. It lit up her whole face and made the recipient feel like they’d been given a gift.
Holy hell, is that what it looks like from the other side? He’d never really paid attention before.
“Thank you so much, Phyllis,” Gemma gushed, and Jordan felt a little sick.
Do people hear and see the noblesse oblige, but they’re just too polite to say anything? No wonder Russ acted like a dick toward me. He probably thought I was a giant douche from the second I walked in.
As soon as Phyllis stepped out of the kitchen, Gemma’s smile fell away and she narrowed her eyes at Jordan. “I’m mad at you,” she said, poking a manicured pink fingernail at his chest.
“Okay.”
“Okay? That’s all you have to say?” she huffed, placing her free hand on her hip. “No one tells me anything, except Mom and Dad aren’t talking to you anymore and they kicked you out. You don’t answer my texts except to say ‘ask Mom and Dad.’ Mom calls me crying. I come home from my girls’ trip to West Palm Beach so she can tell me you’ve decided you’re gay now, and she just found out you’re staying at the charity ranch we used to go to as kids. And all you have to say is okay?”
With a sigh, he rubbed his temples, trying to ease his burgeoning headache. He wasn’t ready for this. Why couldn’t he have had a few more weeks? At least it was Gemma and not Will Jr. barreling down on him—or, God forbid, his parents. He might’ve totally lost it then.
Offering her the seat opposite him, he collapsed on the bench at the kitchen table and set his drink down. “What do you want me to say? I came out. They flipped out. And I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go, with Father canceling my credit cards and emptying the joint bank accounts. I’m sorry you felt left out, Gemma, but if you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of going through some shit right now. I just had my entire life implode, so forgive me for not being sensitive to your feelings.”
Crossing her arms across her sparkly chest, she pouted. “Well, I might have been able to help, if you’d given me a chance.”
“And what exactly would you have done?”
“I don’t know, but nobody gave me a chance to find out, did they? I’m just as much a member of this family as you and Will, you know, even if everybody conveniently forgets that.”
Jordan opened his mouth to return fire, but closed it again and took a calming breath. He wasn’t a child. He really shouldn’t act like one if he wanted people to believe that. He was arguing over something stupid, because he was pretty sure he didn’t want to hear whatever else she’d come to tell him.
A horse neighed out in the pasture, and Jordan glanced longingly out the window. All he wanted was to go back out there with Russ and leave all this painful family shit behind, but he couldn’t exactly look down his nose at his sister’s immaturity while refusing to be an adult himself.
“I’m sorry, okay? If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t return Will Jr.’s texts either.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, it doesn’t. Of course you didn’t text him back. He’s an asshole. But I’m not.”
Barking out a laugh, Jordan shook his head. “Who are you and what have you done with my annoying little sister who used to follow me around threatening me with hellfire and tattling over every swear word?”
“I just finished my first year at Brown, in case you forgot. I’m not a little kid anymore, no matter what everyone in this family seems to think,” she huffed, narrowing her eyes at him again.
Holding up his hands in surrender, he said, “Okay. You’re right. My little sister grew up while I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Damn right I did,” she said, tossing her hair.
They shared a smile, but Jordan’s faded as he took a steadying breath. “Okay, grown-up Gemma, what do you suggest?”
Her confident grin fell away. She blinked at him and bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she admitted miserably. Frowning in confusion, she said, “So you’re really gay now? You’re not just saying it to get back at Mom and Dad for something?”
He nodded, watching her face carefully. “Yeah.” Forcing a chuckle, he said, “I’ve actually been gay for a long time. It’s not a new thing. I just didn’t have the balls to tell anyone until now.”
“You never acted gay,” she argued, worrying her lip some more.
Apparently her horizons hadn’t been widened too much with her first year of college. She fiddled with the gold-and-diamond sorority pendant glittering on its fourteen-carat chain around her neck, reminding him that a person could be as sheltered or open as they chose to be, no matter how far from home they wandered.
With a sigh, he took her hand in his and squeezed. “There’s no such thing as acting gay, you know? Unless you mean having gay sex, then I suppose that’s acting gay. But you’re right. I dated a lot of women and did all the things a proper son is supposed to. I pretended to be someone I wasn’t because I was afraid of disappointing everyone. Given Father and Mother’s reaction, I was right to be worried, wasn’t I?”
“Do they know?” she asked, crooking a thumb toward the door to indicate the rest of the ranch.
“Yeah. They figured it out when Phyllis called Mom.”
She withdrew her hand from his, tapped her pink nails against her glass of lemonade, and frowned. “Everybody at home is so upset. Daddy stays in his study and growls. He and Mom are fighting all the time. Will Jr. and Sherryl and the kids came over while I was there, but nobody really talked, and Will and Daddy disappeared into his study after dinner. Everything was awkward and uncomfortable, and everyone’s bitchy.”
With a wince, Jordan leaned back in his chair. “I guess that’s all my fault, huh?”
“Well, no… I mean, yes, but I guess you can’t help it, right? I just want everything back the way it was.”
“Everything? Even you being treated like the baby?”
She threw him a sour look. “Of course not that.”
“Because you’ve changed and you want everyone to respect that, right?”
“Yes.”
He waited two beats, and she huffed and rolled her eyes again. “I get what you�
�re saying. I’m not an idiot. But this is different. I’m not asking them to change their faith, their whole belief system. You can’t expect them to be okay with this overnight.”
“I’m not. I wasn’t.”
“Well, you ran away to the middle of nowhere. You didn’t even give them a chance.”
“I didn’t run away, Gemma. Father threw me out, and Mom just sat back and let it happen.”
His voice cracked, and he clamped his mouth shut before any more of the hurt could come pouring out. He absolutely refused to start crying in front of his little sister.
Not appearing to notice, she waved a dismissive hand. “He didn’t mean it.”
“Since when has Father ever said anything he didn’t mean? He cut me off, Gemma. He canceled my credit cards. The only things I have left are my car and what I took with me from the house. That’s it. And neither one of them has messaged or called me since that day. Mom even knows where I am, and she didn’t ask to speak to me or anything.”
“No. She sent me instead,” she countered.
Blinking in surprise, he asked hopefully, “She sent you? Really?”
She grimaced. “Well… not exactly. I mean, I kept pushing for answers, and she told me where you were…. But I know she’s worried about you, and obviously if she agreed with Daddy, they wouldn’t be fighting so much, right? They never fight, not like this.”
“Like what?”
“Well, they aren’t getting into screaming matches or anything—at least not where any of us can hear—but they’re totally not talking to each other. And when they have to, it’s barely civil.”
The Second Time Around Page 14
