Page 29 of Smoky Mountain Dreams
and God, it’s been too long.”
He paused. It wasn’t quite right.
“…you smell like fresh cut lawn.”
No.He sighed. Something wouldcome to him. It didn’t matter what, or even if it never worked out. It feltgood just to write again. He didn’t want to care too much about it. He wantedto experience theflowof music.
“Hey.”
Christopher glanced up at Jesse, who looked amazing. Hisstubble was groomed, and he wore a deep purple button-down shirt that somehowmade his lips look even more kissable, and his eyes appear a deeper brown.Christopher was glad he’d worn his nice green sweater that brought out his owneyes. He’d had it on the night Gareth had been unable to keep his hands offhim, so he was pretty sure he looked hot in it.
“Hi. I’m glad you made it.”
“I’m not late am I?” Jesse checked his watch. “We saidseven, right?”
“I’m early. I wanted to get this table. It’s my favorite.”
Jesse looked around, taking in the distinct combination of agood view of the color-splashed mountains and the distance from other patrons, andseemed to approve.
The waitress appeared as Jesse took his seat, and shegrinned when she saw him. “Hard Apple Cider, Mr. Birch? Woodpecker?”
Jesse touched her elbow as he said, “You got it, Sarah.”
“I’ll be right back with that.” And then after only twosteps away, she wheeled back around to say, “Oh, and Ricky’s here tonight, so…”She gave Jesse a look, and he rolled his eyes.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“Sure thing.” Sarah scooted over to another table, leaving abill to be paid.
“Ricky?” Christopher asked, biting back a quip about howJesse clearly came here a lot.
“A mistake I made a year ago,” Jesse said. “Let me give yousome advice: twenty-year-olds are always a mistake.”
Christopher raised his eyebrows.
Jesse groaned and rubbed the heels of his hands into hiseyes. “I’m not…I was… Hell, no. No excuses. It was a mistake, pure and simple,but it was all my fault. You reap what you sow, right? And Ricky’s a littleunpredictable. Sometimes he likes to pretend I’m not here. Sometimes he likesto come over and sit in my lap. Sometimes he probably pays off the kitchenstaff to spit in my food. I don’t know. It’ll probably be the latter tonightsince I’m here with you.”
“Spit—it does a body good.”
“Like mother’s milk.”
Christopher leaned back and smirked. “I can’t believe I wasever worried that you weren’t really out.”
“Me? Oh hell, I’ve been out longer than I’d ever been in.Why, though?”
“It sounds dumb, but…”
Sarah sat the Woodpecker Cider by Jesse’s hand and hetoasted her with it before turning his attention back to Christopher.
“Well, I couldn’t help but notice the photo in your office.Of two little kids and a woman. The kids look a lot like you.”
Jesse’s expression grew guarded, and he took a sip of hiscider. “You don’t know.” He sounded a little bewildered.
“Know what?” Christopher’s gut clenched as his heartskipped.
“Well, first of all, thosearemychildren. And their mother.”
Christopher’s throat was dry, and he gulped at hismargarita. “Okay. So, what? You’re divorced?”Please bedivorced.
