“So… I hate to ask, but… did you cheat on Mom? Is that why she kicked you out?”
“No!” Jon sat back down, leaning forward and meeting Ben’s eyes. “I swear to you, I never cheated on your mother. When I was with her, I was with her one-hundred percent. I loved your mother, but in the end it wasn’t enough to convince her.”
“How do you mean?”
“When we met, we never talked about people we had dated in the past. Not in detail, anyway. Of course we had both had relationships before, but I didn’t want to know who she had been with, and she didn’t want to know about me. But she met one of my former lovers by accident. One of my male lovers. I don’t know how or where. She just came home from work one evening and confronted me. Wanted to know if it was true that I had slept with men. I couldn’t deny it.”
“And she couldn’t accept it.”
“No. She couldn’t, or wouldn’t, believe that I hadn’t cheated on her, and had no intention of ever cheating on her. I don’t know if she and I would still be together today if that hadn’t come out, but I would never have married her if I hadn’t planned to be in it for the long haul.”
“And then what?”
“She kicked me out. Told me to get my things and leave and never come back. I packed a bag and checked into a motel. I argued, begged, tried to convince her to give me a chance to prove myself to her, but she was adamant. She served me with divorce papers. I went back to the house to get the rest of my things and found them boxed up and stacked on the porch. In hindsight I’m grateful she didn’t throw everything out on the lawn. She made it clear that she would fight for custody, and that I would never see you again, never ‘infect’ you. She said if I tried to contest the divorce or her custody that she would tell everyone I was a deviant and a pedophile. It was a small town. I knew she’d win, and that you’d grow up hearing the gossip, and I didn’t want you to have to go through that, or grow up thinking that you had come from that kind of background. So I left quietly. I thought that would be the best thing for you. Maybe I was wrong.”
Ben was silent, thinking about what his father had said. “I think you did the right thing,” he said after a couple of minutes.
“You do?”
“Yeah. You’re probably right about what would have happened. And I was so young that I never would have known that you fought for me. All I would have heard was that you were a pedophile, and maybe I’d wonder if you had, you know, hurt me when I was little. Mom let me think you were a deadbeat who had deserted us, but I guess that’s better than the alternative.”
Jon looked away, his eyes bright with moisture. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to be there for you, and that I never tried to contact you. I should have, when you were older, but my life was difficult at that point, and then it felt like I’d waited too long.”
“It’s… I don’t know if I can say it’s okay, but I think I understand.”
“Thank you,” Jon said, wiping his eyes.
“Did you ever remarry?” Ben asked. “Do I have any brothers or sisters?”
“No,” Jon shook his head. “No other kids. I had a partner. I met him a couple of years after the divorce. But he passed away about three years ago.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Is that what you meant when you said your life was difficult?”
“Yes. He had cancer – lung cancer. Once he was diagnosed, everything was about keeping him healthy and keeping him alive. It was a long process.” Jon laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Crazy thing is, he never even smoked. But he grew up with two parents who did, and they’re both still alive as far as I know. Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump that on you.”
Ben moved to the sofa, sitting next to Jon and taking his hand. “It’s all right. I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose someone like that.” They sat together like that for a few minutes, until Jon finally spoke.
“So, what about you and Thom? Are you and he…”
“Wow, that’s a very dad kind of question!” Ben laughed.
“Too personal? We did just meet, after all.”
“Not too personal, I guess. Thom and I are… complicated is as good a word as any I suppose. It’s his favorite word, anyway. We’re at different places in what we want.”
“He cares about you, though. He was very protective earlier. But you’re still young, maybe you’re not ready to settle down?”
“More the opposite, actually. I want to stay here with him as long as I can. As long as he’ll let me. The rest of our lives if possible. But he thinks I’m too young to know for sure and keeps waiting for me to leave.”
Jon gave Ben’s hand a squeeze. “You’re a lot like me. Even if we didn’t look alike, I’d still see myself in you.”
“How do you mean?”
“I was never afraid to commit. I married your mother, intending it to be forever. It was the same with Carlos – in sickness and in health. My father was the same way – he and mom were childhood sweethearts and devoted to the very end. The Heywood men are the marrying kind.”
“So, your parents aren’t around anymore? Is there any other family?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I was a midlife surprise for my parents, and an only child. There were some distant cousins I barely remember from childhood, but I couldn’t tell you their names now. It’s just us, I’m afraid.”
“I can live with that,” Ben said.
“I hope that… I don’t know if you wanted to meet because you wanted closure, or to satisfy your curiosity, or what. But I hope that we can get to know each other. I’d like a chance to be friends at least, if you don’t feel like we can be family.”
“I have to be honest, I wasn’t sure about that myself. I just felt like I had to know why you left and what happened. I felt like there was a piece of my past that was missing and I needed that piece of the puzzle so I could feel whole.”
“Okay.”
“After what happened with Mom, I thought that maybe there was more to the story about you and her than she told me, so I wanted to hear your side of the story. But, maybe we could talk some more? Like, maybe you could come to dinner here soon? I don’t know how long you can stay in town, or what your plans are.”
“My plans are fluid. If you want me to stay, I can stay.”
“I think I’d like you to stay. We can see what happens.”
Chapter 13
Thom couldn’t concentrate on anything in his office, so he finally went to the kitchen, thinking he might make something a little nicer than usual for dinner. He couldn’t focus on that either, and after standing in front of the open refrigerator for a full minute he gave up and grabbed a beer. He popped the top, and realized beer made him think about Ben. He thought about going outside to drink it on the porch, but that made him think about Ben, too. Also, he’d have to pass the living room where Ben was talking to his dad, and he didn’t want to do that. He sighed, and just sat at the kitchen table. He took another swallow, then sat the beer down and watched it sweat until a puddle formed on the Formica.
After a while he heard voices, the front door opened and closed, and he heard Ben come into the kitchen behind him.
“That looks like an excellent idea,” Ben said, heading over to the refrigerator and grabbing a beer for himself. He leaned on the counter in front of the sink and took a long gulp.
“You okay?” Thom asked, picking up the bottle in front of him and picking at the now soggy label.
“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know. I need to think about it for a while before I can talk about it.”
“Okay.”
“Can he come for dinner later this week? I do want to try to get to know him.”
“Of course. Do you want me to go out that evening?”
“No! I don’t mean without you. This is your home. Also, whether you believe me yet or not, I’m not going anywhere and if I decide to let him into my life, you’re a part of that as well.”
“What did you tell him about me? I mean about, well, will he have
a problem with you and me being, well…”
“Lovers?”
Thom blushed. It was ridiculous for a man of his age, he knew, but that word had always felt so intimate. In his mind it conjured up darkened rooms and naked bodies, sweaty and entwined on rumpled sheets. It wasn’t a word he was comfortable using in the bright light of day, and certainly not in front of his lover’s father. “Well, yeah. But maybe in front of your father we could use a less, um, a word that isn’t so…”
“Ooh,” Ben said, moving to sit at the table with Thom. “Are you embarrassed?” He reached over to lift Thom’s chin and tilt his face up. “You are! You’re blushing!”
“Don’t make fun of me,” Thom jerked his chin out of Ben’s hand and turned his face away.
“I’m not making fun of you, sweetheart. You’re adorable.”
“I’m not adorable. Thirty-two-year-old men are not adorable.”
“You are totally adorable. And since we have a little time before dinner, I am going to show you exactly how adorable I think you are.”
“What?”
“Yep. Right here, right now.” Ben took Thom’s beer from his hand and sat it on the counter next to his own.
“Hey, I wasn’t finished with that!”
“You can have it back later. First, though,” Ben reached down, pulled Thom to his feet, spun him around, and backed him up to the table.
“Wait! What are you doing? This is the kitchen!”
“Abso-fucking-lutely adorable.”
Thom’s response was lost when Ben’s mouth came down on his own, and after a moment of feeble squirming Thom relaxed and surrendered to Ben’s kiss. When Ben put his hands on Thom’s hips and lifted him onto the table, Thom didn’t protest until he felt an icy wetness seeping through his jeans. He squirmed and shifted, then pulled back far enough to say, “Wet spot. There’s a wet spot on the table.”
Ben stepped back and pushed Thom back until he was lying down, and went to work on his belt and fly. “Let’s get you out of these wet jeans, then,” he said, pulling off Thom’s jeans and briefs at the same time. He stopped to pull off Thom’s boots and socks, and in barely a minute Thom was naked from the waist down and Ben was pulling off his own t-shirt to wipe up the rest of the water on the table.
Ben stood at the edge of the table between Thom’s legs, and leaned forward to nuzzle Thom’s neck. “I’m going to have an afternoon snack,” he whispered into Thom’s ear. “You just lie back and look adorable.”
“I really don’t think—”
“Now, now, don’t be a prude, sweetheart,” Ben said, pulling a chair up so he was sitting between Thom’s legs in a perfect spot to linger over the feast spread out before him. He set to work, nipping and licking up and down the length of Thom’s dick until Thom was moaning and thrusting, his hands gripping the edge of the table.
Ben scooted back a bit, then with his hands on the backs of Thom’s thighs, lifted his legs up and out to spread Thom open. The moaning stopped and Ben could tell Thom was feeling self-conscious again. He lowered his head and started licking Thom’s balls, taking first one and then the other into his mouth and sucking gently. “Is this okay?” he asked in a quiet voice when he felt Thom start to relax again.
“Mm-hmm.”
“How about this?” He lowered his head to run his tongue over the puckered skin surrounding Thom’s hole. Thom’s hips jerked and he gasped. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, and licked again, swirling his tongue around the dusky hole a few times before pointing his tongue and poking at the center. Thom tried to squirm away.
“No,” Thom panted. “Dirty.”
“You’re fine,” Ben reassured him. But he moved back to Thom’s balls, licking and sucking again before taking Thom’s cock into his mouth and lowering his head until he had his nose buried in the curly hair at the base of Thom’s shaft. He pulled back, sucking, and ran his tongue around the head. He repeated this a few times, thinking that Thom was just the perfect size – thick, but not so long that Ben choked when he went down on him. He put a finger in his mouth alongside Thom’s cock, getting it slick with spit and then using it to tease at Thom’s hole.
Thom was moaning again, his hips barely rocking, and Ben pulled off just enough to whisper, “You can move. It’s okay,” before taking Thom deep again and pressing his finger in just to the first knuckle. Just that tiny amount of penetration was all it took, and suddenly Thom was jerking and thrusting, scrabbling his hands on the table for leverage, and coming hard and hot into Ben’s mouth. Ben swallowed as fast as he could, stroking Thom’s hole gently with his fingers.
“Oh God, oh God.” Thom was moaning, his head rolling back and forth on the table. Ben pulled him up to a sitting position and silenced him with a salty kiss.
“Now that’s what I call an afternoon snack,” Ben said when he raised his head.
Thom reached down to where he could see Ben’s erection pushing against the front of his jeans. “What about you?”
“I was thinking, later, we could continue what I started a few minutes ago.”
“Huh?”
“Well, you were the one who said it was dirty.”
“Ohh.”
“So, if you’re feeling self-conscious about it, I can wait until you’re as fresh and clean as makes you comfortable.”
“You must think I’m a prissy germaphobe.”
“I don’t. But if you’re not comfortable with something, I won’t do it. We just have to figure out each other’s boundaries. So, are you okay with it? In general, I mean.”
Thom nodded, embarrassed because he was blushing. Again.
“So maybe later, after dinner and a shower?”
Thom nodded again, “Y-yeah,” he stammered.
“Excellent. You want your beer now? Oh, and put your pants on, man! This is the kitchen for crying out loud.”
Chapter 14
“Did you hear that noise?” Thom asked, walking into the living room where Ben was sprawled on the sofa watching CSI reruns.
“What noise?” Ben put the television on mute. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“It sounded like glass breaking.”
Both men were silent for a few moments, listening, but the house was silent.
“Maybe it was my imagination.” Thom turned to head back to the office when they both heard it. It was a small popping and tinkling sound, and Ben knew immediately what it was.
“Crap!” He jumped up from the sofa and headed for the kitchen.
“What is it?” Thom followed him.
“The beer. Shit, where are the safety goggles?” Ben was in the mud room, rummaging in one of the cabinets.
“Here” Thom pulled two pairs of safety glasses from a bin and handed one to Ben. “What’s going on?”
“The bottles are exploding. I’ve got to check them, see if I can figure out why, and vent them before they all explode.”
Ben put on the glasses and started for the basement door.
“Wait!” Thom put a hand on Ben’s arm to stop him. “If there’s glass flying around down there we need more protection.” Thom went back to the bin and pulled out some leather gauntlet-style gloves, handing a pair to Ben. “Put your coat on, too,” he said, pulling his own heavy canvas jacket down from its hook and putting it on.
“Good idea,” Ben said, doing the same.
Ben flipped on the basement light and started down the stairs, Thom right behind him. They stopped at the bottom to survey the damage. There were chunks and shards of broken glass and puddles of beer on the floor near the corner where Ben had set up a storage area for the beer and brewing supplies.
“Looks like three bottles exploded.”
“Is this normal?”
“There’re a few reasons why it could happen. There could be some contamination, or it hadn’t finished fermenting, or we added too much sugar. Sometimes temperature can affect it, but that shouldn’t be a problem down here. Whatever it is, gasses are building up and making it explode.
”
“Can it be saved?”
“If it’s not contamination, then probably, yeah.”
“How can we tell?”
Ben sniffed the air. “Smells like beer down here – that’s a good sign. I don’t smell anything sour or rotten. I’m going to go closer and get a bottle. Will you go up and get a bottle opener and a towel?”
“Okay.” Thom went back upstairs, and Ben crossed the concrete floor to where the bottled beer was stored on wooden shelves against the wall. Taking the big five-gallon stockpot down from the top shelf, he sat it on the floor and gingerly picked up one of the intact bottles and lowered it into the pot.
Thom returned with a church-key style bottle opener and a dishtowel. Ben took the towel, wrapped it around the bottle, and used the church-key to just barely loosen the bottle cap. When he heard a hissing noise, he stopped and waited. After a minute, he lifted the cap at another point, again waiting for the hissing noise to subside. Lifting the bottle from the stockpot, he stood and held it up to one of the bare lightbulbs hanging from a ceiling beam.
“Looks clear, doesn’t smell funky.” He sat the bottle on a table and finished opening it. “Still smells okay.” He took a taste.
“Well?”
“Tastes okay. I think we may have added too much sugar. I was experimenting with a new recipe,” Ben shrugged. “It happens.”
Thom went upstairs for another towel and bottle opener, and Ben started venting the bottles, taking them off the rack one at a time. After Ben initiated the release, Thom would carefully take each bottle to the table, where he would vent the bottle again. Working quickly, they soon had all thirty-six remaining bottles of that batch vented and were ready to reseal the caps.
They only had one bottle-capper, so while Ben resealed the bottles, Thom perched on a stool nearby and took a taste of the first bottle Ben had opened.
“Oh, hey! This is really good!”
“You like it?”
“Yeah. I think it’ll be better once it’s aged a little more, but I could drink it now, too.”
Saving Grapes (Cable's Bend Book 1) Page 10
