“Does he love you?”
I knew that was going to be his next question, but despite knowing it didn’t matter, I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I could explain in a way my dad would understand that it was okay if Hank didn’t feel the same.
“Yeah, I love him. Very, very much,” Daddy answered before I could. His voice cracked a little when he spoke. I whipped my head around to stare at him.
“What?”
“Sugar, it was never about whether or not I loved you. It was because I didn't know the words and how to say them. But if you can face down your dad, then I sure as shit can get over myself and be honest with the man I love.”
“You love me?”
“Yeah. I love you.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
The only way to end the declaration was with a kiss. I leaned up on my toes and planted a full one right on his mouth. His lips were such a temptation, but I resisted the urge to taste them again. I loved my family, and my being queer was no big deal for them, but a full-on make-out session was a bridge too far. But since there was always tonight, I didn’t have to wait long to get my fill of Daddy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Hank
“All right, everyone. Come and try out the breakfast,” Jasper said with a flourish as he plopped the last bowl down on the buffet side table. “During the week, I’m going to focus more on grab-and-go stuff, but on the weekends, I want it to have a brunchy vibe. So I need you to tell me if this works for you.”
Jasper bit his lip, already sliding into apparent worry. Why, I had no idea, because his food was always amazing, and this morning was no exception. He had gone with a Mexican theme: a breakfast casserole with chili and cheese, fruit salad with lime, and a sprinkle of salt to bring out the flavor. At some point yesterday, he had even gone into town to get fresh tortillas. They were warmed and waiting alongside bowls of freshly made pico de gallo and salsa.
“Damn, baby boy, this looks good,” Gage said as he saddled up to the food.
“You don’t call him that,” I growled.
Jasper laid a placating hand on my back, but, in a huge surprise to me, Gage put up his hands in surrender.
“You’re right, big guy. I forgot. Sorry.”
I glowered at him but gave a curt nod.
“I can call you big guy, right?”
Rather than answer, I rolled my eyes and started working on my plate. I tried to make one for Jasper, too, but he shooed me away, saying he wanted to watch everybody’s expressions as they ate. He needed to know if his menu was going to work.
We all shoveled food into our mouths without speaking. The only sounds around the table were noises of appreciation and the occasional comment about needing a bowl to eat the salsa or spooning up the pico de gallo. Jasper’s feet wouldn’t stay still. He happy danced over to the table, and I snagged him around the waist, pulling him onto my lap. I offered him a bite of my breakfast taco, which I’d built from the casserole, and he happily accepted.
“Are we going to have to watch this every time we visit?” Gage asked with his mouth full.
“I’m instituting a new rule, Gage. You don’t get to talk shit at the table.”
Gage and Jasper stared at their father. I think they weren’t used to him cussing.
“Gage, what did you do to our father?” Rowan asked from the doorway. He was still in his rumpled pants and button-down shirt from yesterday. He must have just collapsed on his bed after his all-night phone call.
“Broke me, Rowan. Your brother broke me,” Dr. Greer said with a straight face, though I caught the twinkle in his eyes. He wasn’t that upset about the breaking part.
“What was that call about?” Gage asked. He sounded casual, but I could tell he was actually listening for the answer.
“Stuff,” Rowan answered, then quickly shoveled food in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to explain further. Gage and Dr. Greer exchanged puzzled looks at his one-word answer.
For the rest of the meal, I kept Jasper firmly by my side. He insisted on getting up a few times to replenish plates even though everyone told him it wasn’t necessary. He said it was good practice for being an owner, and we needed to let him do what he needed to do. That was enough to shut the rest of us up. Still, I insisted that everyone carry their plates to the kitchen. There was no way he was going to cook us breakfast and clean up after us like we were guests. They were his family, and he was mine.
After breakfast, we all ended up on the porch, sinking into the rocking chairs that dotted the front. It was nice to sit and let the breeze wash over us. It wasn’t too hot yet, though it was going to be a scorcher later. Winter wasn’t really a thing in Central Texas, but I took the occasional cool breeze when I could get it.
