Chase leaned toward his husband, twisted his upper body, and angled his neck awkwardly so he could look at me. “How would you know this?” He wiggled his brows suggestively causing me to roll my eyes at him in return.
The common misconception amongst both the bar employees and patrons was that Jack wanted to have his way with me. According to my co-workers, he watched me like a hawk and scared off any would-be boyfriends. I often felt his presence in the bar and his eyes on me, but unfortunately it didn’t feel sexual to me. It felt more like a protective stance a big brother would take. Ick! The insane level of lust I carried for Jack was completely at odds with how I thought Jack viewed me. I had brotherly love in my heart for Chase, but Jack? No! I wanted to wrap my legs around his solid body and never let go.
“There’s a picture in his office of him and his grandpa standing outside the cabin holding up a line of trout that they caught in the North Fork River.” I pinned Chase with a steady gaze. “I know because I saw the picture and asked about it.” Chase just grinned wryly with an “if you say so look” and turned back around in his seat. I looked back out the window and got lost in my dreadful thoughts.
“We’re here,” Gray said sometime later. I hadn’t even noticed we slowed down or even stopped. I had to tell Chase soon and deal with the fallout, because it felt like the bitter acid caused by worrying so much was eating a hole through my stomach. I knew I couldn’t go on living in a state of constant worry.
I stepped out of the car and looked around the funeral home parking lot. It was jam packed with people coming to offer their condolences and say goodbye to Jack’s grandpa. My eyes landed on the old-fashioned horse drawn carriage style hearse still used in a lot of military funerals. I knew from brief conversations that Big Jack Murphy, as his friends and family called him, was a decorated WWII veteran. His grandson, Jack Murphy, wasn’t much of a talker, but he proudly told me about his grandpa’s service on the anniversary of D-Day a few months ago. It had been just the two of us closing the bar down when he handed me a shot and we toasted in memory of the lives lost that day. I cherished those quiet moments we shared, even though I didn’t think they would lead to anything other than friendship.
I didn’t know much about Jack’s military career, except that he served as an Army Ranger. He didn’t speak about his service at all, but spoke proudly of Big Jack’s. I suspected Jack had seen a lot of horrible things during his service, which was the cause of his PTSD and the reason for his sealed lips. Maybe it was also the reason the man lived like a monk. It seemed impossible that he made time to date or even have sex with anyone. There were only so many hours of the day and most of his was spent at his bar.
We waited patiently in line to give our sympathies to the Murphy family. There were photos of Big Jack’s life posted on boards throughout the funeral home as the line wound around to the front where the family waited to receive us. I had met all of them on more than one occasion when they came to visit Jack. The Murphy’s appeared to be the kind of wonderful family that any kid would be lucky to grow up in. After an hour, or maybe longer, we reached the family at the front of the funeral home. I followed behind Gray and Chase as they shook hands with the family.
“Sorry for your loss, Dec,” I said to Jack’s younger brother, Declan. He thanked me and shook my hand, offering me an attempt at a smile.
“Thanks for coming, Liam,” McKenna, Jack’s younger sister, said. She gave me a loose hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. I shook hands with her husband, Darren, and then found myself standing in front of Jack.
All of the air left my lungs at the sight of him. He was wearing his Army dress blues, his chest was covered in colorful bars and medal ribbons denoting his valiant service. Jack had shaved for the occasion and it was the first time I saw what he hid beneath the scruff. Holy hell was he beautiful. That square jaw begged to be nibbled on and that dimple in his chin made me want to lick it. I’d definitely be adding that image of him to my spank bank catalog. I cringed at my inappropriate thoughts and forced them out of my mind.
“Liam,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice, “thank you for coming.”
It was then that I looked into his green eyes, a shade so light it never failed to take my breath away. Those stunning eyes were surrounded by ridiculously long, black eyelashes and set beneath slashing black brows. Normally, I would get a tingly feeling every time I looked into them, but not that day. I saw pain and grief in his beautiful eyes and I wished I could do something – anything – to take that pain away. Jack offered his hand, but I found myself wrapping my arms around him instead. I wasn’t sure who was more shocked at my move, but after a second’s hesitation, Jack hugged me back.
I tried hard not to think about how good he smelled and how right it felt to be in his arms. That wasn’t the right time or place to be thinking these thoughts, but they crept inside anyway. The smell of his soap so close up had me thinking all kinds of naughty thoughts, like what would he smell like at the juncture where his inner thigh and pelvis met. To me, that was where a man smelled the best. Yeah, not the right place or time for those thoughts. I stepped back and smiled at him compassionately.
“Big Jack was a good man; I’m going to miss his bawdy Irish jokes.” And, I would miss that booming laugh and the way he slapped the bar laughing at his own jokes.
“Thank you. I will too.”
I nodded at him and moved down the line to his parents, Patrick and Claire. I shook Pat’s hand and hugged Claire, expressing my sympathy at their loss. I could see the loss had taken a toll on Pat, so I gave him an extra pat on the shoulder.
“You’re a good lad,” Pat said to me before I walked away. He might not be saying that if he knew the lascivious thoughts I had just been thinking about his eldest son. I nodded at him with a small smile and continued down the line.
I caught up with Gray and Chase a few minutes later and we took a seat to wait for the service. I tried to keep my eyes off of Jack, but they kept wondering back over to where he stood with his family. He’d always had such erect posture, but it was even more pronounced while wearing his uniform. Eventually, everyone in the line cycled through and the service began. I kept my ear on the speakers, but my eyes on Jack. I had never seen anyone sit so still, as if he was fighting to keep his heart from shattering by holding it together with his rigid exterior. I ached to sit beside him and reach out for his hand to give him comfort, but I didn’t have the right.
The trip to the cemetery was a beautiful ride through the countryside. Big Jack’s final resting place was befitting a man of his caliber - up on a hill overlooking the valley he loved so much. Gray, Chase, and I stood in the back of the attendees and watched the final tribute to a man loved by so many. Flags representing each branch of the military were carried by soldiers who served in those branches. Taps was beautifully played by a single soldier on his bugle. Seven soldiers lined up and paid their respects with a twenty-one gun salute. The final ceremony was to remove and fold the American flag draped over Big Jack’s coffin. It was performed crisply, precisely, and with utmost respect for their county and the WWII veteran who had passed away. I had expected the flag to be handed to Patrick, who was Big Jack’s only child, but instead I saw them place the flag in Jack’s white-gloved hands.
My chin trembled a little when I wondered if Jack wished he could hug that flag to his chest. It was evident in his voice and expression just how much he loved his grandpa every time he talked about him. He was hurting so badly right then. I don’t know how I could feel it, but I could. I wished he had Charlie by his side to bring him comfort. Jack was a very strong man and he had come a long way in the short time I had worked for him. I didn’t know this because of anything he said or did, I knew it because of the changes in his facial expressions, body language and the look in his eyes. There were more smiles on his face and more emotions in his eyes, even if I was seeing humor and mirth in their green depths, and not the want I hoped to see. I didn’t want to see him regress after the loss of someone he loved so much.
As I made my way to Chase’s car after the ceremony, I felt his eyes on me. I didn’t know why I felt so connected to him at times, I just did. I turned in the direction of the stare and sure enough our eyes connected. I sent him what I hoped was a reassuring smile when what I really wanted to do was go to him and hug him once more. A small wave at him and I turned back around and climbed into Chase’s car. I had to believe that he would be okay, that he could work through his grief. Jack had his family to support him and Charlie’s unwavering loyalty. God, he had me too if he only wanted me.
DAMN THAT LITTLEspitfire Liam.He made me want and feel things I had squelched for a long time – two decades to be precise. It wasn’t easy to deny who I was inside, but it was something I was able to do out of fear. I attended an Irish Catholic church and they were adamant that homosexuality was a sin. Then I chose a profession that didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat for gay men and women. Sure, DADT was repealed a few years ago, but people still feared for their jobs - and sometimes their lives - if they lived in the open. The armed forces couldn’t openly discriminate against us, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t find other ways to make your life miserable or even deny you rightful promotions for some trumped up excuses. My very life depended on my fellow Rangers when we were engaged in a battle, and although I wanted to believe they’d have my back regardless of my sexual orientation, it wasn’t a chance I was willing to take. Things had improved greatly, but there was still a far way to go for true equality - both in and out of the military.
I had accepted my decision to live my life as a straight man, and had even been engaged to my high school sweetheart, Kristen Donahue. I was home on leave a few months before the wedding when Big Jack asked me to stop by the house, a house that he had built for my grandmother with his own hands. I thought he just wanted to visit and toss back a few shots of whiskey and some beer chasers, but that wasn’t his intention at all.
“Jack, I love you with all my heart. I want you to have an amazing life filled with love and laughter, but I’m not convinced you’ll find that with Kristen.”
You could have bowled me over with a fucking feather. Granddad loved Kristen – they all did – so I was shocked when he expressed his feelings over my impending nuptials. I think I sat there blinking at him for several minutes before I either asked why or he read the question in my expression.
“Kristen is an amazing young lady and I love her dearly, my boy. She also deserves a life of happiness, but will she get the unconditional love she deserves from you? I see the way your dad looks at your mom, as if the sun rises and sets in her eyes, but I don’t see that same emotion when you look at Kristen. I know that you love her, but I don’t think you’re in love with her. I’m simply asking you to think about it and pray on it before you commit your life to one another.”
I was shocked by his request. There was no censure in his voice or accusation in his eyes, but it felt like I had disappointed him nonetheless. Behind his compassionate light green gaze, I thought I saw something else, but I wasn’t sure what. It just seemed that maybe he wanted to say something more, but wasn’t sure if he should.
I told Big Jack that I would think and pray on it, but I didn’t. I had made up my mind to marry Kristen and nothing was going to change my decision. I was sure that I didn’t look at her the same way my dad looked at my mom, because I was just as sure that my dad wasn’t hiding his true self from the world. Yes, I had guilt and questioned my ability to make Kristen happy for the rest of her life, but Big Jack’s talk didn’t motivate me to walk away from her, it motivated me to commit harder to giving her the life she deserved. She was my best friend and confidante and I loved her. I was positive we could make it work, but Kristen didn’t agree. She came to me tearfully a few days later and asked to be released from our engagement for the same reasons my grandfather gave me. As painful as it was to hear that I could never be enough for her, I let her go.
For twenty fucking years, I had ignored what I knew about myself since I was sixteen. I was a gay man trying to conform to a straight life and I was able to avoid all temptation untilhecame along. Liam Connelly changed everything. The things I noticed with other men, but was able to push aside, hit me ten times harder with him. He changed me with one look into his oddly-colored, hazel eyes. I started noticing how his dark chestnut hair would pick up natural golden highlights from the sun. I became addicted to his shy smiles and timid laugh, which became full smiles and infectious laughter once he became used to us. I found myself mesmerized by every move he made, every subtle flirt he threw my way, and especially his snarkastic remarks. Oh, the things I wanted to do with his sassy mouth. Still, I was able to keep him at bay for a year and a half, but that was before he hugged me. That was before I could smell the fresh scent of his shampoo beneath my nose or know what his smaller frame felt like pressed against my chest – wrapped in my arms.
I stood in the cemetery and watched him walk away and a feeling of loneliness hit me so hard that it took my breath away. Then he turned and smiled at me and I felt some warmth in my bones that had been lacking since my granddad passed away a few days before. Once he broke eye contact and turned away, he took his warmth with him. I could’ve really used that warmth as I sat in my old bedroom in my parents’ house holding Big Jack’s envelope. I had a feeling that whatever was in the envelope would change my life forever because of the secretive way it was given to me.
