Page 75 of Smoky Mountain Dreams
“Obviously his kids will always come first,” Christopher hadsaid. “That’s good, isn’t it? Means he has his priorities straight.”
“Andit means his priority won’tbe you. I’m just saying—kids complicate things.”
Christopher had shrugged. “Since when have I been anyone’spriority?”
“You could be Gareth’s priority,” she’d sing-songedteasingly, but also somehow in earnest.
“Bullshit. I’d be his second choice because his first choicedidn’t work out.”
Christopher sighed as he ate his breakfast, thinking ofJesse and his first choice who’d died in a car accident. It was ridiculous tofeel sorry for himself when the poor woman was dead, yet sometimes he couldn’thelp it.
But Holly didn’t understand the need to discover the kind ofpeace a person could find in being the second choice, in knowing that he’dnever be first in anything. In the surrender to that. Sure, it was a peace bornof disappointment and perhaps low self-esteem, but it was something he couldalways embrace, and now it seemed it might just pay off for him in unexpectedand surprising ways.
Don’t you ever settle for being secondchoice, Christopher.
“It’s okay, Gran,” he murmured. “I’m used to it. It’ll beeasier this way. You’ll see.”
“Am I interrupting?” Gareth asked.
Christopher’s stomach dropped like lead and he tried to keepfrom rolling his eyes as he shook his head, mouth full of bacon and eggs, andgestured at the empty chair across from him. The chair Jesse had sat in when he’dshown him the drawings for Gran’s locket.
Gareth’s plate was full of biscuits and gravy, andChristopher was willing to bet that they were Birch’s Biscuits given how muchthe Birch family gave to the park.
“Hi,” Gareth said. His voice was the same deep rumble thathad felt amazing on Christopher’s dick, vibrating into his balls as Gareth hadgroaned and moaned, his beard tickling and rubbing against Christopher’ssensitive anus until Christopher had come hard, crying out and begging formore. It’d been a hot night. There was no getting around that and, yeah, maybeGareth had been onto something earlier in the fall when he’d accusedChristopher of being unable to forget about it. There was truth in that.
“Hey,” Christopher answered once he’d swallowed.
Gareth relaxed a little, his eyes reflecting the deep brownsof his plaid flannel shirt. It made his irises appear the same color as thewinter mountains—a soft gray-brown filled with wilderness.
“I’ve been meaning to apologize to you,” Gareth said as soonas Christopher had put another forkful of eggs and a bite of toast in hismouth. “About the way I treated you after we made love last summer.”
Made love? You screwed each other blindbut you did not make love. I’m an old lady and I’ve done it all. I know whatlovemaking looks like and that was not it.
Oh my God, Gran, get out of my head!
“Uh,” Christopher’s mouth was still full and he couldn’t sayanything else for a moment while he chewed and tried to figure out how to shutthis down as fast as he possibly could. Gareth didn’t give him the chance.
“It was a damn mistake lettin’ you go. Rick and I werebroken up for a damn good reason, one that came clear to me all over again oncehe got back from Afghanistan. I thought I needed to take care of ‘im, because Ifelt guilty. You understand? But we weren’t meant for each other.” He sighed. “Listen,Christopher, truth is, I moved out a month ago, and I’ve been regrettin’ how Itreated you a helluva lot longer than that.”
“Wait—”
“I treated you somethin’ awful for too long afterward. Iknow it. It was cowardly of me. It’s not a good excuse, but I did it because Iwas so fucking pissed off that I’d made such a huge mistake, and I wasembarrassed that I let you get away. And not sure at all how to go aboutgetting you back.”
Christopher desperately swallowed his food. “Listen, I’m notangry—”
“You’re not?”
“Okay, Iwasangry. Maybe I’mstill a little angry. Mainly about how you treated me. Not how it all wentdown.”
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Christopher. So sorry.Sorrier than words can say. You were always so nice to me, ever since you camehere. I miss how we used to get along. Don’t you?”
“Sure, Gareth, but the thing is—”
“That’s only part of what I’ve got to say. Can you hear me out?”
Christopher wiped a napkin over his lips nervously and triedto decide if he wanted to listen. Finally, he nodded, and took another bite offood. Though as soon as he’d started to chew, he doubted his ownmotivations—wouldn’t it be kinder to tell Gareth he was seeing someone else,and it was getting serious? Leave him with some sort of dignity?
Like he’s treated you with such dignitysince that night?
