“Got to win some draws here, forwards! Got to win some draws!”

I stood behind March, yelling at the men on the ice, not that I thought they could hear me. I knew they couldn’t with the fan noise, the chatter of the players, and the rush of blood in their ears. We’d held our own for three periods, only giving up one goal which had us tied 1-1 now. I thumped on Sander’s shoulders then bent down low.

“I want focus from you out there. We need more puck possession time. They’re taking us to the cleaners on face-offs, and that needs to end.”

“Yes, Coach,” March replied, his attention split between me and the game.

“Good man.” I clapped and shouted as one line came off and another went out. “Let’s just play our game now,” I yelled, then nodded at the obvious hooking call we’d just drawn on the opposing team. Vic bent over a whiteboard, scribbling down ideas that he then flashed to the power play unit, which was headed out once the sinner was in the box. “Good shift! Good shift!”

I patted each man coming off the ice on the back as he sat down. The power play unit skated out, Dan and Sander conspiring, with helmets side-by-side as they tried to set up what the special teams coach had laid out for them. Sander skated in for the faceoff, Dan dropped way back, and Mario nestled in close with the left winger, his mouth going steadily as the two men jockeyed for position. Sander won the faceoff and whipped the puck back to Mario. His man jerked on McGarrity’s stick and another penalty was accessed, this time for holding the stick.

The power play unit then went to work, and it was a thing of beauty. March and Arou-Kalinski were the dynamic duo out there. Passing the puck back and forth, inching in closer as the three Cottonmouth players valiantly tried to defend their goal. From the corner, Dan got the puck to Sander, who was just shy of the blue line. His slap shot flew over the Cottonmouth goalie’s left shoulder and into the net. The men on the bench jumped up and down, all the coaches clapped, even Kalinski, who had to be stuck between a rock and a really hard place. That got one man sprung from the box, but they were still a man short.

Dewey should have made the switch to bring out fresh PP skaters, but Dan and Sander were steady, and they had the hot sticks. Dewey let the twosome stay on the ice but pulled the other three players and sent fresh ones out, including our captain, who was a force to be reckoned with on the power play. The puck ended up behind Mitch on a dump-in from the Cottonmouths. Mitch directed it to Sander, who took it out to our offensive blue line then shot it down the ice to Dan who was streaking toward the Cottonmouth net. Arou-Kalinski found the puck. Mike knocked a man off his skates with a beautiful and clean check to clear the way for Dan. His snap shot was so fast that the goalie couldn’t get his legs pads together fast enough to stop the puck from going between his legs.

Our bench went wild. Two power play goals exactly twenty-four seconds apart. Sander lifted Dan off his skates, his joy was so great, then they were swallowed up by the other three men on the ice. We cruised into a nice 3-1 win and now could breathe a little bit. Everything was all tied up and now we’d be heading back to Augusta for game five.

“This team is going to push my ass off the wagon,” Victor said, after draping his arm around my shoulder.

“Hell, I’ve been mixing gin into my sweet tea since game one,” I joked, meeting up with the men outside the dressing room, then following them inside.

The Venomous Pole and I parted company once inside. He went to his husband to give him a quick squeeze of the neck, followed by a ruffle of his long, wet hair. I made the rounds, talking to every player I could, passing along my praise for a job well done. Dewey and the other coaches filed in. The head coach gave the men a rousing speech and the Cougars Cap was shoved onto Dan Arou-Kalinski’s sweaty head. The man beamed with pride. He was going to make the pros, and soon. He’d finally hit his stride and with all the moving and shaking about to occur, it was truly just a matter of time. What that would mean for both men and the people in their lives remained to be seen, but the call was coming. I could feel it deep down in my bones. Hockey giveth and hockey taketh away.

About an hour later, I was met outside by my family and my man. We all piled into our cars and went back to my place, where we sat around until midnight, talking about the game then drifting into other topics. When they lit out for their hotel, aside from Charity, who insisted she sleep in the spare room, Town and I began cleaning up.

“So, how was it?” I asked while loading dirty wine glasses, coffee mugs, cups, and snack bowls into the dishwasher. “Sitting smack dab in the middle of the Hart mob?”

“It was fine. They’re really great. Your kids are so sweet, and your ex is not at all like I imagined she would be. She said she was going to send me recipes for all your favorite foods.”

“Make sure she includes her pecan pie recipe. Sweet Moses, but that pie is to die for. She also makes a peach pie that will curl your toes in pleasure.”

He stepped up close and took me in his arms. “I’d like to curl your toes in pleasure,” he murmured before slanting his mouth over mine. With a slick swipe of his tongue on my lower lip I opened for him, eager for his taste on my tongue. The sweet tang of berry wine lingered on his tongue.

“My toes would like that as well,” I whispered when we broke for air. And space. We needed some of that as well, as my daughter was bopping around the house.

“Your family is amazing. Thank you for introducing them to me.”

“Even Marigold?” I asked, my thumbs still resting in his belt loops, despite the fact that I knew we needed some air between us. His cock pressed against mine just felt so damn good…

“Yeah, even Marigold. Did you know that there is a right and wrong way to put mustard on a soft pretzel?” His eyebrows danced up and down. “No? Well me either but seems Miss Marigold knows and was not reluctant to educate me on the proper way to apply condiments.”

Chuckling softly, I nuzzled his neck, licking a tiny little circle under his ear.

“Mm, damn that’s nice,” Town sighed, his hands sweeping up and down my sides.

“Daddy, do you have any more of them cheddar cheese chips? Oh hell, shit! I’m sorry!” Charity swept into the kitchen, froze, and then covered her eyes with her hands.

Town and I jumped apart, his eyes wide and my pulse leaping. “Chips? Oh, sure, I think so. Let me walk Town to his car.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry,” Charity groaned into her palms. I patted her shoulder as we walked past.

“It’s fine, baby girl. I’ll be right back.” I tugged a mortified Townsend outside, his shame burning as brightly as mine.

“That was the worst,” Town moaned, dropping his brow to the roof of his car. I rubbed his back as my embarrassment flamed brightly.

“Kids. They are sure fire ways to kill romantic tendencies.”

Town sighed dramatically. “Probably scarred her for life seeing her daddy sucking face with his lover.”

“Nah, she’s not nearly as delicate a Southern flower as she looks. More than likely she’s on her phone right now telling her brother she caught us in flagrante delicto.”

“Ugh.”

I patted his fine ass then kissed the back of his neck. “It’s fine. They know we’re in love. Not like catching us kissing by the light of the dishwasher will—” He lifted his head and turned to look at me. The soft light from the porch light made him appear to be moon-kissed. “What?”

“You said we were in love,” he replied. Crickets chirped nearby as my brain, which was liberally doused with wine but not that much wine, tried to fire on eight cylinders but could only get three working.

I stared at his handsome face for the longest time. A cool breeze off the lake rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. The night chorus of frogs and insects, and a barred owl way off in the distance filled the silent gap my seized brain had created.

Finally, after some internal wrestling, I just said what was in my heart.

“I stand by that.” I pushed my fingers along his skull and led his mouth to mine. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

His lips played with a smile. I kissed each corner as it lifted, numerous times, then I licked inside, sweeping his mouth with a slow sort of passion.

“Good God above,” I exhaled over his slick lips. “You had best head on home before I take you down to the lake and make love to you on the boat launch.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you, too,” he said in reply. We kissed again, and again, and then once more, our bodies pressed close, his hand on my ass, my fingers gripping his head.

“Daddy? Is everything okay?” Charity tentatively called from the front door. Once more, we moved apart, but this time there was little shame in our eyes. Love. There was lots of that in our gazes.

“Everything is just fine, sweetie. More than fine, actually,” I called back, never letting my sight waver from Town’s. “Yes, right, well…”

“I’m uh, heading home.” He grinned, grabbed a quick kiss, and then slid behind the wheel of his car. I thumped the hood and then stepped back, lifting my hand in a wave that he returned. There I stood by my driveway, hand in the air, bare feet in the lush grass, heart bursting with emotion, waving like a goof. Damnation, but falling in love was grand!

The following morning, I rolled over, and the smell of bacon teased my nose. Rising from my bed, I then pulled on some lounge pants and a ratty old T-shirt, shuffled to the bathroom, and then made my way to the kitchen to find my daughter bustling around preparing food.

“This is an unexpected surprise,” I stated.

She threw me a million-dollar smile over her shoulder. Her long dark hair was rather knotted, and her pink pajama top and shorts were wrinkled from sleep. I still thought she was the prettiest child in creation, she and her brother both, although Chaz would bristle at being called pretty, even though he was.

“Morning, Daddy! I wanted to have this all done before you got up. There’s hot water for tea, since I know you don’t do coffee like us normal people,” she teased then flipped a flapjack.

I made myself a cup of hot tea and sat down. She loaded my plate with pancakes and strips of fried bacon, then sat across from me.

“Looks great, sweetheart,” I said as I covered the pancakes with syrup. She smiled into her coffee cup. “You’re going to eat some more, aren’t you?”

“Mm, I had some yogurt and cereal earlier.” My eyes widened at the amount of food laid out before me. “I maybe got carried away with the pancake batter,” she confessed with a short little giggle.

“I’ll be lazy after eating all of this,” I replied, but dug in anyway. “So, how are you baby?” I asked, between bites of syrupy pancake.

“Good. Truly. The meds are fantastic now that I’m used to them. I haven’t had an anxiety attack in over six months.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.” God knows, the few times I had seen her swallowed up by her anxiety issues, I’d been terrified and utterly helpless. It had taken some bouncing around from doctor to doctor and playing with several different prescriptions, but she seemed to finally be on an even keel and enjoying her young life. “Town is a little anxious as well at times. He frets,” I explained, then tore off a chunk of crispy bacon with my teeth. This was much better than a health drink or some high-energy bar. “Even his boss agrees that he’s a champion fretter. He was close to being beside himself meeting your mother.”

“Mama?” Her thin brows flew up into her tangled hair. “Mama was thrilled to know you found someone.”

“I know that, but he was concerned about her reaction to the man who was now canoodling with her ex-husband.” I washed down the bite of bacon with some tea.

“Now he knows it was Grandma Marigold he needs to keep an eye on,” she said, then snickered. “I get it, though. Lots of people aren’t as open and accepting as Mama is. I don’t know if I’d be able to be as gracious as she was when you and she split up.”

“She was especially understanding, but she also knew there was something wrong with our marriage. She was relieved in a way, I think, to know that it was me and not her.”

“There is nothing wrong with being gay, Daddy. The terrible thing is that your miserable upbringing and hateful father made you feel as if there was!” Fire danced in her whiskey eyes. Ah, my brave little warrior. She was going to change the world. I just knew it.

“I know, I know. I didn’t mean it like that, so you can calm down. I meant that it was probably a relief to her to understand that my lack of attraction to her in bed was due to my being gay and not any fault of hers.”

“Sorry, I just get riled up when I hear you talk like Granddaddy might be right. He’s not right, about anything. Not one damn thing!” She glowered at her coffee.

I chuckled and shook my head. “You’re quite something. I pity the foolish young swain who crosses you wrong.”

“Swain?” She laughed lightly. “I don’t think anyone uses that word anymore.”

“I do,” I stated, then took another bite of bacon.

She rolled her eyes playfully and the talk drifted from heavy topics such as my father and his hatred of me. I’d not spoken to the man in years. I was quite sure he was happy about that, but there was this niggling need to return home one last time and slap him in the face with my happiness. Just hit him right in the kisser with the wonderful life I was now living. A life free from lies and hiding. A life filled with acceptance and friendship and love. Townsend’s face appeared before me, and my whole being warmed. “I think I have fallen in love with Town.”

“Oh Daddy, we all knew that the first time we saw you two together. The way you look at him makes me weak in the knees. How sad is your life when you’re like ‘I hope I can find a man to look at me the way my Daddy looks at his boyfriend’?”

“Your sappy-faced man is out there, baby. Don’t give up. It took me forty-one years to find mine.” I reached over to pat her small hand. She gave me a tender smile, and the whole world was right as summer rain.

If we had one fully functioning and uninjured player come the finals—if we made it that far—I’d have been shocked. The series against Augusta was chewing our men up. Several were nursing pulls, tears, and a few cracked bones. Even Mitch, our goalie, was sporting a monstrous bruise to his ribs from a collision with some damn Cottonmouth rushing the net last night. They’d beaten us in a shoot-out. Mitch had been off during that shoot-out and now we knew why. Of course, being a hockey player, he’d played through the pain in silence, but his reaction time was impaired as he was having trouble lifting his left arm fully.

So now we were heading back home later today. We’d arrive in Cayuga, rest for a night and be back out on the ice for game six, which we had to win. Having the morning off was nice. It gave me time to hit the treadmill in the hotel gym, chat with Town for a bit, shower, and find me a rental car for the morning. There was something I needed to tend to while I was in my home state. Something that had gnawed at me since last night, when I’d overheard Mitch talking with his father on the phone on the way back to the hotel. I’d only caught bits and pieces of the conversation, and it was one-sided, but I put together enough. Mitch’s dad was talking him up. Our goalie’s father was proud of him. Mitch’s dad knew his son was involved with another man and he seemed to be accepting, since they talked openly and warmly about Shaun, the snowboarder Mitch was dating.

I’d rolled that overheard father-son talk around my head all night, tossing and turning, until I had resolved to make the run out to Billow Ridge one last time. I slipped out into a hazy morning, taking a quick Uber from the hotel to Carruthers Car Rentals. There, I picked up the keys to a rather nice Chevy Impala. With the air low and the classic rock station turned up high, I left the city behind and began navigating the smaller and smaller roads that led me into rural Georgia. I passed cotton factories and warehouses left to rot, green pastures, silos, and large signs offering land for sale or lease crumbling to the ground. I paused for a moment at the railroad tracks that led into Billows Ridge, the memories of running up and down those tracks as a kid strong and fresh. I pulled a slow left as the radio station crackled and faded, leaving me with two choices. Country & Western or the local religious station. The latter being the only music that had been allowed in our house after Mama had died. Hymns and gospels. I knew them all, or at least a goodly number of them.

Humming along to Savior, Like a Shepherd, I cruised down what most would call the main street of Billow Ridge. It was more a paved road that led one past a feed mill that long ago had shut its doors, several mobile homes, and a bar—the Lucky Seven. The pub was closed now, but I was sure, come dinner time, the locals would be piling in for a few rounds of forgetfulness.

About a mile from the Lucky Seven sat the Son of Christ Church. My breathing hitched a bit when I saw the small hand-built building with the blood-red cross on its side. My father and I, and several members of Billows Ridge who thought like my father did, had spent one whole summer working on this dream of his. See the churches in the nearby towns, the Presbyterian and the Methodist, they weren’t keeping the faith proper as he liked to say. They’d been sullied by Satan into bending to the whims of the unholiest among us, such as those who believed in a woman’s right to choose, Jews, Blacks, and the gays. My father would preach the true gospel. The righteous word of God. In a way, I was glad my mother had passed when she had. She’d been spared the worst of his insanity. Staring at that scarlet cross I knew, deep in my soul, that he’d have ground her loving spirit into paste with his hate.

“You took a wrong turn in Augusta, boy,” my father called from the doorway of his church. I leaned on the fender of my rental, the day’s heat already collecting on my brow and the back of my neck. Folding my arms over my chest, I stared at the still strong man gripping the jambs tightly. Barring me from entering his sacred domain, as if I ever wanted back inside. He stood tall, not bowed by age. His hair was still dark brown, or appeared to be, the shadows embracing him made seeing any gray impossible.

“Nope, no wrong turns. I came out here to tell you something,” I replied, the sun now peeking over the tops of the trees. I lifted a hand to shield my eyes. A blowfly flew past my ear, the smell of manure from the chicken farm down the road luring the insect in the direction of the stench.

“There’s only one thing I want to hear from your mouth,” he stated, his words spoken with the fire of a preacher living his faith. “Did you come here to repent your sins and denounce the evils of homosexuality?”

“No sir, I did not. I came here to tell you my truths, which are that I’m happy, my family loves me, my friends and teammates accept me as I am, and I have the adoration and support of a good man.”

“Your soul will rot, and I will not pray for you,” he shouted, his fervor easily stoked by the sight of his queer son. “I will let you face the fires of the devil’s domain without so much as a word spoken to save you!”

“Yeah, that’s okay with me. I figure God knows the right of things a whole hell of a lot better than you do.” I pushed off the fender, lowered my hand, and walked around my car.

“Don’t bother coming back here again!”

“I don’t plan to.” I slid behind the wheel, wishing my hands weren’t shaking so, and cranked the engine over. The door to the well-weathered church closed and I backed out into the road, never once looking back at the red cross or the town of Billows Ridge.

When I was dropped off at the hotel, I walked right into the team congregating in the lobby.

“Where the hell have you been?” Victor barked, stalking up to me with his phone in his hand. “We’ve been trying to contact you for hours.”

“Ah, sorry. I took a drive out to where I grew up. There’s no service out there,” I lied. Half-lied I guess. There was service about forty minutes outside of Billows Ridge, I’d just left my phone off, because I’d needed time to process making that final cut to my past.

“What the shit kind of boondock place did you grow up in?” Kalinski asked, while waving men out the door as the bus had just pulled up.

“It’s not important. We ready to head back and get us a win on home ice?” I shouted to the team. They all cheered in reply as they filed out of the door. Climbing onto that bus I was a mish-mosh of emotions, some sad and some knotted, but mostly I was feeling relief. Chucking off a millstone like the one I’d carried for so long certainly made my back and soul happier. As did being back in Cayuga.

Maybe it was the fact that we ran over the Cottonmouths during the next game. And I mean we ran them over. It was one of those near perfect games that happen once every millennia where anyone with a cougar on their sweater could do no wrong. Maybe it was the fact that my man and I were one tiny nudge from tumbling off the cliff of heavy infatuation into the sea of love. I tended to think it was a combination of those two things with the fact that I’d just marched in my first pride parade. Ever. With my boyfriend.

How I wished we were having this parade in Cayuga, but that town wasn’t quite big enough or ready for a pride parade. Maybe next June. Corning was, though. We filled that lovely city with so much rainbow love it should have colored the Chemung River red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.

The parade had weaved its way through quaint streets and into the Gaffer district. We ended up at the Corning Clock Tower in Center Square. It was a lovely pavilion area with lamp posts, trees, flower pots, and benches. A small stage had been set up and local LGBT performers had been invited to participate. Town and the Foxes weren’t performing until eight at night, so we had all day to hang out with our friends. Town pulled me to a cart selling something called a spiedie. Turned out it was sandwich made with cubed chicken, pork, or beef served on a long soft bun. A marinade was drizzled over the meat as well, so we took our food and drink to a bench, and in what would probably be the most disgusting display of besotted idiots, fed each other small chunks of sandwich. I dabbed his chin with the wad of napkins I’d grabbed, and he dabbed mine. It was sickening, and I loved every damn second of it. Not even the arrival of Victor and his snark could dampen my spirits. He and Dan had brought Jack along, and if ever a child was ready for pride, it was Jackie Blue Kalinski.

“You look all kinds of ready to celebrate pride,” I said, as the lad climbed up and sat smack dab between me and Town. He smiled widely, but his real attention was on the spiedie sandwich in my hand. I offered him a bite which he greedily took. “You ever feed this child?”

His father chuckled. “Nope, not a crumb. You can tell how malnourished he is by looking at his Buddha belly.”

“Did you deck him out?” Town asked, taking a moment to dab the juice running down Jack’s chin.

“Nope, he dresses himself. Always. He goes back and forth. One day he’s all about Iron Man on his underwear—when he wears them—and the next he wants a pretty dress and glittery things on his ears. He’s the king of self-expression.”

“So I see,” I replied, then gave the lad another bite of my lunch while I admired his outfit.

He was decked out in a white T-shirt that read I Heart My Daddies, but the heart was a rainbow heart, which kind of matched the bouncy rainbow heart headband that made his long, paprika-colored hair stand up. He’d opted for a silky pink skirt and purple socks that clashed terribly with his orange sneakers and big green sunglasses.

“Papa give me glasses for to wear in the sun,” the child informed me.

Dan shrugged, his one arm resting on Vic’s lower back. “They used to be mine, but I outgrew them.”

“Yeah, last year,” Vic teased as he held out a sippy cup for his son. The lad took it and drank long and hard. A band hit the stage and started a sound check. Jack jumped up and started dancing to the one-two-three, one-two-three. “Buddy, yo, wait for the tuneage man.”

We had had a nice laugh, and once more I was struck by how much I missed having a four-year-old in my life. When the real music started, Jack was the center of attention. Crowds began to gather around the stage and I grinned madly at the beautiful and diverse couples I saw.

“Here we are, sorry, we missed the parade. Lila had a shoe emergency,” Mario announced as he strutted up to our bench, his kilt slapping his knees. He had Lila’s boy with him. The teenager gave us the required nod and then disappeared to hang out with his friends.

“Where is she?” I yelled to be heard over the hard rock band on stage. The lead singer was quite good, her vocals were gritty as sandpaper.

“She’s working the booth for the trans rights group that operates out of Albany right now. Later she’s slated to host the bands for an hour, and then after that she’s going to sit here on my lap and let me feed her a spiedie,” he shouted.

That Lila was a busy woman. I hoped to be able to be half as civic-minded as she was after the season ended. I vowed then and there to donate as much time as I could to the youth center project she, Ben, and Town were working so hard to set up.

Jack entertained us for a bit with his amazing hootchie-coo dance then Mitch showed up with Sander, Mateo, and Noah. The foursome blew into our little middle-age and people with kids clump like a tornado, all shouts and energy and displays of affection that made me blush like a shy, virginal flower. Town leaned over to kiss my cheek as the rowdy level around our bench climbed skyward, and that helped my shock level lower a bit.

Jack had decided to sit on my lap while he was eating the rest of my sandwich. His father stood behind us, sippy cup in hand, red ball cap that read Make America Bi Again on his head, his hand down the front of Dan’s shirt a bit. Everyone was so demonstrative. I wished I could get past my hang-ups, but holding hands seemed to be about as much as I could do in front of other people.

“I’m such a fuddy-duddy,” I told Town as I bounced Jack on my knee.

“You’re just you. No labels or bad names. Just be you,” he replied.

Jack looked over his shoulder at me. “Love who you is.”

“I’ll make sure to do that,” I chuckled as a new band came on, this one a mellower kind of soft rock sound I enjoyed greatly. Kids raced past with balloons and shiny rainbow bracelets. People had pride pups on leashes. The sun was warm on my shoulders and the top of my head, but I had no interest in moving. I had never felt this kind of acceptance in my whole life.

Then two men pushed through the crowds and spied us. They jogged in our direction. I looked back to Mario, who was smiling ear-to-ear and then back at August Miles, who also was beaming.

“Augie, my son, my son!” the kilted Cougar roared, as he gathered the younger man into a massive hug. The rest of the rainbow faction of my team were all over the two men, slapping backs and kissing cheeks. I shook hands with Sal and then August. It didn’t slip my notice that they held onto each other throughout all the greetings.

“We’re going to need a bigger bench,” Sal commented wryly when August wriggled in beside me. “I’ll stand back here.”

Sal slid behind us, his hands resting on August’s wide shoulders as Augie and Dan chatted away about Boston. Dan had been called up once before and then sent back down, so he knew the city a bit. Victor had come down from the pros and never went back. Kalinski was busy with his boy, so perhaps he’d be spared this talk of things that would never be again for him, playing for the pros, that is.

“Welcome back to Cayuga,” I said to August, when Dan raced off with Vic to chase down Jack, who’d spied a pride pooch. “I’d like to introduce you and Sal to my steady, Townsend Harris. Town, this is August, he used to play for the Cougars before the pros gobbled him up, and his boyfriend Sal, whose father owns the cleaning company that Mateo works for.”

“One big happy family,” Town said with a smile, shaking hands with Sal and then August. Mario ran off to find Lila, so she could visit with August and we snorted when a stiff wind lifted his kilt.

“That was almost too much, Mario,” August tittered, leaning back into his man a bit.

Victor moseyed on over. Dan and Jack were petting a golden retriever with a rainbow bandana round his neck. Town nestled into my side and I draped my arm around his shoulder.

“Tough break in the finals,” I said to August.

His lips flattened a bit before he sighed and shrugged. “Yeah, we’re lucky we made it that far, to be honest. I think we’re looking at a minor rebuild next season. We’re seriously lacking in skilled forwards who can finish. I mean, me and Minkoff can only do so much. Team has to score.”

Sal rubbed August’s neck lightly as the young goalie spoke. It was obvious the man was starved for tactile. They’d been doing long distance for quite some time now. I recalled those days away from my family and loved ones. It sucked.

“You think you’ll be there for the rebuild?” Mitch asked, breaking the kind of silent lock I’d made about discussing the expansion draft with Victor around.

August shrugged. “I don’t know, buddy. Minkoff has a no-move clause so he’s protected, and they have to put up a goalie.”

“If you go to Baltimore, you’ll be the starting goalie, right?” Mitch enquired.

Sander lingered on the periphery, trying to look like he wasn’t interested, but he was. He had to be. This could be his future, and he had two men in the area that he loved. If he got called up or sent to a new AHL feeder team, what would he do about Mateo and Noah? Seemed Vic and Sander were sitting in the same leaky boat.

“Maybe, I mean…it depends on who they pick.”

“No matter where he is next season, Boston or Baltimore, I’ll be there with him,” Sal announced, then smiled at the icy-cold water bottle that Dan waved at him. It seemed Arou-Kalinski had made a run to the drink stand just to our left.

“Wow, really?” Mateo asked, his sight flickering from Noah and Sander slow dancing to some timid soft rock song back to Sal. The older man nodded. Older. Well, older than all the others here apart from me. Guess Sal was the older one and I was the ancient one. “You sure you can get a job so quick?”

Dan handed Jack off to Vic, so he could pass out water to the Cougars gathered around this lone bench. Both Arou-Kalinski men looked tense.

“I’m pretty sure,” Sal continued. “Both cities have big hospitals, and good orderlies are always in demand. We’re just waiting for the draft to take place, so I know which hospitals to apply to.”

“Yeah, this living apart stuff sucks. I’m sick of only seeing him once a month, if that.”

Sal bent to grab a soft kiss from August. “Also, since I asked him to marry me last night, I guess we’ll have to be in the same city for the marriage to work out.”

Everyone in the immediate vicinity fell on the newly engaged couple. August glowed like an oil lamp. I pulled Town closer to my side and kissed his head. Perhaps, someday, if the good Lord were kind, there might be vows and rings for us.

You might have to work up the courage to tell the man you love him first, you scaredy-cat.

I held my man to me and we spent several hours in the shade of a couple of young trees, laughing and talking with the team, welcoming Mike Buttonwood and his wife and young daughter when they showed up just before Town was going onstage.

“Sorry we’re so late,” Mike said, as he bumped shoulders with August in that Hey-buddy! kind of nudge we men are so fond of. “We had a wedding in Ithaca and just got back. Here’s her earmuffs.”

He handed pink muffs to his wife and they secured them to their little girl’s head. There was a drag queen on stage lip-syncing to Gaga’s Born This Way and the music was quite loud. Dan and Vic had about given up trying to keep the white earmuffs they’d brought along on Jack’s head. He’d gotten violent about them the last time his father had tried to make him wear them. Now though, he seemed to be less cantankerous and more worn out, so when Vic slipped the muffs over his ears, the toddler mewled and burrowed into Lila’s arms, then passed out. She wrapped the sleeping boy in a light blue, pink, and white transgender flag she’d been wearing like a superhero’s cape all day.

I was feeling rather done in myself, but my man was about to hit the stage and I was surrounded by tolerant, amazing people, so my exhaustion was buoyed by the crowd. And my friends, of course. Oh, and the man now walking out to thunderous applause. People all over this area loved the Studebaker Foxes. Town was so skilled. I wondered, not for the first time, why he wasn’t touring the country with his band playing to sold out arenas. I’d have to ask him about that sometime. For now, I was about as contented as I could be. Hearing him play would be the whipped cream topping to one of the best days of my life.

“Thank you all and thank you for attending pride!” The crowd shouted and waved rainbow flags. “Before we break out the blues, I’d like to take just a minute to say that I’m here today with my new boyfriend. Come on and stand up, baby!”

Everyone in the plaza, probably hundreds of people, turned to find this new boyfriend the blues god was talking about. My mouth fell open and my ears started buzzing. I was way past shocked. I was stunned into stupid. My sight stayed locked on Town standing on the stage, a soft blue light shining on him, making him look sexy and cool and so beautiful. Victor nudged me in the side. My heart sped up. I pushed to my feet and then climbed onto the bench I’d lounged on all afternoon.

“I am Townsend Harris’s boyfriend!” I shouted, and then blushed fiercely when everyone around us clapped for our declaration. Mario clapped my back. Dan gave me a hug. Victor handed me a hankie. I stood on the bench throughout Town’s show, which was absolutely rocking, shouting encouragements to the man I was so enamored with. When the Foxes wrapped up with a rendition of Pride and Joy with the genders changed from feminine to masculine—that brought the house down, I met him coming off the stage. He was sweating and sticky, but I threw my arms around him and kissed him with all I had. Right there in front of all the world.

“Are you mad?” he panted after the kiss broke. “Once I did it I was sick to my stomach that you’d be mad about being public like that.”

“I. Am. Not. Mad.” I punctuated each word with a kiss. “What I am is in desperate need of loving. Let’s head home, take a shower, pour some wine, and make love like official boyfriends do.”

The nervous tightness around his mouth disappeared. “Let me help the guys load up the equipment and we can roll.”

An hour later we were finally on the road. Night was just peppering the sky with stars. It was that twilight time when the last touch of the sun was still visible, but so were the first stars of the evening.

I couldn’t stop sneaking peeks at Town in the passenger seat as we made the ninety or so minute ride home. He’d catch me, smile sinfully, and my cock would get just a little harder. I decided to stir up some conversation before we were going at it alongside of NY-414.

“Okay, so, you need to explain to me why you’re not out there touring the world with a big, fat record contract in your back pocket. You’re amazing.”

He chuckled then turned down the radio a bit. “You’re biased.”

I nodded. “Totally, but it’s not just me. Everyone who hears you play is blown away.”

“That’s nice to hear, but I’m not as good as all that. I mean…” I glanced over when he paused. He seemed to be deep in thought. “I’m pretty good to people here in the Finger Lakes region. But to the rest of the world I’m not that good. Does that make sense?”

“Not in the least.”

“So biased,” he chortled then patted my thigh. “But it’s the truth. I’m okay. Maybe better than okay, but I’m no Kenny Wayne or Muddy or B.B. and that’s fine because as much as I love the blues, I love politics more. Not so much the face-timing with constituents or the battling with city planners or aldermen, but the knowledge that what we do here, today, will hopefully have a positive impact on those that follow us. That maybe Ben, and by extension me, will make the world a better place for minorities and those who aren’t part of the one percent.”

“You’re noble.” He scoffed at my reply. “No, don’t make light of it, you are. You possess such fine morals and quality of character. I think I may adore you just a little bit more than I did ten minutes ago.”

He tried to fluff it off, but I was having none of it. The man was working his ass off to make the world better for the next generation. For my kids and their kids, if they decided to have children. I was so moved and enamored of him that I could barely keep my hands to myself. I’d never been happier to see my dumpy old house by Cayuga Lake than I was that night.

I fell on him the moment we were inside, pushing him against the refrigerator after he’d taken out a bottle of cherry wine for us to enjoy. His mouth was hot and wet, his body pliant as I wrestled him out of his damp shirt, while licking and biting all that sexy skin I was exposing.

Generally, it was Town who took control, but tonight I grabbed the reins. I peeled him out of his clothes right there in the kitchen, then went to my knees.

“Oh hell Lan, I need a shower,” he gasped, as I tongued a sloppy line from his navel downward. I buried my nose in the thick thatch of black hair around his cock, his dick sliding across my cheek. “Mm, I love the feel of your whiskers on my dick.”

I inhaled the smell of man and sweat and Town’s unique scent deeply into my lungs. Then I turned my head. I licked up and down the side of his shaft, then under it, and then lapped up and down on the other side. His fingers were on the fridge, squeaking along the surface of the Amana as I toyed with him.

His knees buckled a bit when I sucked the fat head into my mouth. A rumbling groan burbled out of him. I sucked his head hard, cupped his balls and rolled them, and then went deep. His hips bucked. I groaned around his cock, eager for him to make me gag again. The blowjob was sloppy. Spittle coated my chin and throat when I finally pulled off and got to my feet.

“Shower time?” he asked, his voice rough as burlap.

“Shower time.” I led him to the bathroom, wishing I had a bigger stall. In the end, my cramped little corner shower worked in our favor, because we were pressed to each other the entire time. I chewed on his neck while I stroked his cock. He pressed on my hole with two fingers, his arms tight to my hips as I rocked forward and back, aching cock against aching cock. He slid a finger in, just one and just a little.

“You want more?” he asked, water rushing down over us. I flexed my back, arching my ass outward to try to get more of that rough finger into me.

“Yes, I want more.”

We turned off the shower and stumbled out of the tiny enclosure, skipping the towels, and made our way to my bed. I laid down first and he covered me, his mouth capturing mine as his knees settled between my spread legs. The slick head of his cock rubbed against mine. I shivered in pleasure.

“I’m so glad you’re not mad,” he whispered over my lips, rolling his hips to increase the dick-to-dick friction. “It just came over me. I looked out and saw you standing there, so proud of me, of us, of being gay and out and…my feelings took over.”

I ran my hands up his arms, loving the thick biceps and strong shoulders as they rolled and twitched under my touch.

“It was the perfect place and time to become official,” I sighed, as I traced his whiskery jaw with the pads of my fingers. “Just like this is the perfect time to feel you inside me.” I pulled his mouth back to mine, my grip on his face firm but tender. His tongue slid over mine. I hooked my heels behind his ass and pumped upward. We both sucked in a quick breath through our noses then let it out into each other’s mouth. I lapped at his lower lip, suckled, nibbled and tugged on it.

“Mm, baby, you sure? I’m super contented with things like it has been. Sex isn’t always about getting a dick into a hole.” He locked his elbows. My hands rested on the back of his neck. “I want you to be sure. One hundred percent sure.”

“I am,” I assured him, staring right into his beautiful brown eyes. “I am head over heels for you. It’s insanely fast for me to feel this way but, hell, I don’t know…” He smiled so softly, as if he understood the gibberish flowing out of me. “I mean, I do know. I know that I’ve been trying to make myself erotically love women when my heart was screaming out for me to love a man. Not just any man, but you.”

“Could have been any man, Lan, maybe you should—”

“You say play the field I will sic Marigold on you,” I said, and he flinched playfully before he snickered. “I don’t need to search for someone to love. I found him. I am as sure of that as I am that I want to have you deep inside me. I want to experience that as well…with you. The man I…love.”

“I love you too, baby. I’ve been holding that in for so long, waiting for you to show you felt the same. Hell, I almost yelled my love for you out tonight on stage!” My eyes rounded, then I kind of purred at the knowledge that this man would shout his love for me to the world.

His lips moved over mine then, and most of the talking fell by the wayside for a bit. I felt awkward, all fumble-fingered and stupid as we rolled around for a bit. He finally settled beside me, his hand between my legs and his lips roaming from one nipple to the other.

“This okay?” he asked again as his slippery fingers worked in and out of my ass. I moaned in reply, eager for him to add another digit to the two already stroking my prostate so skillfully.

“Fine, fine, so damn fine,” I sighed as I pulled at the covers on the bed, my cock pulsing. The sound of lubed fingers and ragged pants filled the room. His cock lay tight to my hip, sheathed in latex, thick and firm… ready.

It was hard to speak and breathe at the same time, his fingertips were so calloused that they rubbed like sandpaper inside me. It was sweet pain and I wanted more.

“Good, good, you’re so tight baby. I promise I’ll go slow. If you’re not sure just say so. Hey, tell me you’ll say stop if you don’t like it,” he insisted, slowly extracting his fingers, which left me feeling void and cold inside.

“I promise… trust you…I love you.” It just fell out of me, but it made him smile down at me, his eyes glowing with affection. He was so beautiful in that moment that I wanted to weep and cheer simultaneously.

“Love you too.” He licked into my mouth one more time, then positioned himself between my thighs. He applied lube to his cock and worked more into my hole, pressing deep while rotating, until I was begging for him to breach me. “We’ll go slow,” he whispered, and I nodded, my heart thundering. I’d dreamed of this moment for so many years, and yet I was now uneasy. I’d never been in this position, the one on the bottom, and the pressure of his fat cockhead entering me made me tense up. He pulled back immediately, his hands resting on the inside of my thighs, his gaze worried. Damn it. I’d put that worry there. “We can stop.”

“No, please no…” I pulled at his sides, my fingers finding purchase on his ribs. “It’s odd is all.”

“Odd bad or just odd funny?”

God above why was I doing this now? “Just an odd sort of odd. I’m good. Seriously, please try again.”

I tugged on him to show him how much I wanted this…wanted him. “Okay,” he murmured, looking wholly unconvinced. “I need you to be honest here Lan, don’t be the typical gracious Southern gentleman. This is your ass we’re talking about. I do not want to plow ahead if you’re having any lingering doubts.”

“No doubts, I swear, no doubts. Maybe a little fear of the unknown.” I stroked his sides as I spoke. I’d never felt more vulnerable or exposed in my life. My passion was waning, and I was terrified that I’d ruined everything with my hemming and hawing. “I want you in me.”

He wet his lips, lowered his head just a bit, and rocked his hips. My body tightened around him and he paused, his gaze darting from where we were one to my face.

“More,” I groaned, then let my eyes close. I still had a hold on his sides, and when he went deeper, I dug into his ribs, hard. “Ah, fuck!”

Again he withdrew, giving me time to catch my breath. I felt like such a damn idiot and grumbled about my stupidity. Town leaned in for a kiss and then pushed back into me, farther this time. And so it went, inch by inch, until he was deep inside me. I had no clue how long it had taken us to get this far…ten minutes? Twenty? A hundred? Time was hard to gauge. I was teetering on the edge of an orgasm already, the pressure of him and the slow rolling of his hips eased the burn and stretch that had winded me.

“You okay? We can stop. Anytime…” Town asked, resting on his heels, one hand on my inner thigh, the other holding my cock in a vise-like grip. “I can just do this…” He made a firm circle with his hips that made my spine bow off the bed and a strangled yelp explode out of my throat. “And this…” He gave my cock a firm stroke, rough palm twisting over the head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” I cried out, my balls riding high and tight as I battled not to come.

“I’ve never heard you drop the F-bomb once before tonight,” he chuckled, then circled in the opposite direction and jerked me hard.

“Never had a big cock up…my ass before. Fuck, I just…Town I—fuck this… need to come. Now.” Slapping my hand over his, I then squeezed hard and tugged. “Keep up—do that—ah sweet fuck do that more stop less,” I panted, not caring that I was now spewing nonsense. “Stop less, yes. Ah yes, more of that. Yes, yes, yes.”

“I got you baby, I got you. Ride it out with all the cussing you want. Hell, but you’re so pretty under me.” He thrust once, hard, and a million or so megawatt lights went off at the base of my spine. I blew apart right then, cum flying up to dot my chest and chin. I bucked and writhed, Town’s slow push and pull on my cock and the pressure inside me throwing me into an orgasm that produced black spots behind my eyelids.

“Fuck me. I mean…hell, fuck. I’m sorry…” I grunted as he began moving in and out, softly but steadily, his hand still moving up and down on my cock. “Didn’t mean to…come so fast. Oh fuck…”

“Mm, shit, your ass is so tight…” He ground his pelvis into me. I whimpered in pleasure, my ass contracting around him, which made him groan in the back of his throat. “I need…Ah baby, yeah, squeeze my dick.”

I wiped the spunk on my hand to his chest. He put his fingers to my lips. I licked the pearly liquid from his fingertips, then sucked his two fingers into my mouth as I trembled.

“Yeah, now, I need to come now,” he growled, leaving his fingers in my mouth while he pumped in and out with slow, deep strokes that made me bite down lightly on his fingers as another round of shudders rolled over me, my cock leaking more cum. He arched into me, hand on my thigh digging into the meaty flesh. I’d have a hand-shaped bruise come morning. That was fine. I’d feel that tenderness and the fire of him every time I moved tomorrow and be reminded that he’d been buried to the balls inside me. I gasped when another spurt of cum dribbled out of me.

Town fucked into me, hard, as he came. I sucked on his salty fingers, gaze pinned to him, while he rode out the first waves of his release. His muscles bunched and rolled. His cock swelled and throbbed as he filled the condom. He was so perfectly masculine and so mine. My boyfriend. My lover. My love. Lying there smeared with sweat and semen, I’d never been happier. No, that was a lie. When my twins had been born was probably the happiest day, but this night, this moment right here, was a close second.

His eyes slowly opened, and he found me spread out beside him, his fingers on my tongue, staring at him as if he were the most perfect thing in the world. He was.

“I love you so damn much,” he said, his voice weak. He slid his fingers out from between my lips and fell forward, his cock slipping out a bit. I gathered him close, kissing him with a mindless sort of hunger that was hardly dimmed by the most powerful orgasm of my life.

He peppered a few fast kisses along my nose, which made me smile lazily, and then he eased out of me, rolling to his side with a shaky grunt. I stayed on my back, eyes drifting shut as he tended to the condom and dropped it into the small trash can between the bed and the nightstand. Arms out, legs wobbly and wide open, I tuned into all the sensations my body was experiencing at that moment. The thump-thump-thump of my heart, my uneven breathing, the twinge of a muscle in my side, my cock oozing, and my ass trying to comprehend what the hell had just happened to it. I snorted at the thought of a confused and tender asshole.

“Something tickled your funny bone?” Town asked. I opened my eyes. He flopped around until he was lying on his side facing me, his forehead and shoulders still slick with sweat.

“Silliness,” I sighed, rolling my head to gaze at him. I smiled dreamily. “You make me so happy, Townsend. I never thought I could feel this way. So many years dying inside while outwardly I laughed. I just…I’m raw right now. Sorry.”

He shook his head then lowered it, catching the tear that escaped with the softness of his lips. I held him close, my emotions ragged and sore.

“Lord above,” I coughed, embarrassed from my hairline to my toes. “Look at me, clinging to my beau like a debutante after her deflowering.”

“Falling in love is supposed to be crazy emotional,” he whispered beside my ear.

“I wouldn’t know. You’re my first.”

He kissed me lightly a hundred times before leaving the bed for a dirty shirt to wipe me clean. Then he nuzzled into my side, burrowing his nose into my neck, his arm and leg resting across me possessively. I drifted off shortly afterward, his deep breaths billowing across my throat. I was comfy as a bug in a big, strong rug.