Bermuda Heat (8 page)

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“You’ve got bad nerves.” David still held him close.

Chris took one look at his face and tightened his hold on David’s arms. “What happened?”

“Let’s talk about it later.”

“No, I want to know. What happened?”

“I finally realized how much time I’ve wasted hiding from everyone, pretending I was something I’m not.”

He could tell Chris wasn’t entirely convinced. He wrapped his arms around Chris, who melted into him.

“You want to see my tree house?” David asked.

“Is that anything like ‘come up to see my etchings’? That’s a horrible pick-up line.”

David’s hands roamed over Chris’s back, feeling the muscles flex and shiver under his touch. He needed to get away from the toxic atmosphere of his parents’ house. He wasn’t going to let Chris be poisoned by it, too.

“Later we can take a ride. I’ve got candy.”

“Now that’s better.” Chris licked his lips. “Will you be bad?”

David kissed him then set him away. “As bad as you want.”

Chris grabbed his hand. “Come on; show me your tree house. I’m still trying to imagine you as a little boy all covered in scratches and mud, playing cowboys and Indians in the woods.

Did you have a dog?”

“Of course. What self-respecting American kid didn’t have one? His name was Butch.”

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Chris and David exchanged glances then they both burst out laughing.

“Now if that isn’t prophetic, I don’t know what is. Now, where is this place? You can tell me how it all went down with your mother.”

“I don’t know, Chris—”

“Don’t you dare,” Chris dropped his bantering and swung around to face David. “Don’t you dare cut me out again. I won’t stand for it. What did your mother say?”

“That she only did it to protect me. They were convinced my father was only after my mother’s money. But you’ll never guess where they met.”

Chris studied David’s face as though he might see the answer there. “I give up. Where?”

“Woodstock.”

“You mean
the
Woodstock? Flower power and all that shit?”

“All that shit. It was as close as my mother ever got to rebelling, I guess. She escaped long enough to get knocked up and wound up in Haight-Ashbury with my father.”

Chris plucked a stick off the forest floor. All around them the quiet gloom of the old forest pressed in on them. David heard the whine of nearby cicadas.

“I never would have seen that coming,” Chris said. “She got messed up with some hippy?”

“I get the feeling
she
was a hippy for a while.”

“So what happened?”

“My grandmother, what do you think?”

“That must have steamed her puritanical ass.”

David forced a smile. “I dare say.”

“You get the feeling there’s more going on here than anyone’s admitting?” Chris stripped the buds off the small twig, littering the forest floor. A blue jay screamed at them from overhead.

56 P.A. Brown

The rich loamy smell under David’s feet brought back sharp memories of a carefree childhood before the discovery came of just how different he was. A freak. Worse, a degenerate. He had fought the feelings for years, until he couldn’t fight them anymore. And with the surrender came the shame. What was wrong with him? How could he make it right? Only to realize that it would never be right.

Chris planted himself in front of him. “So talk to me. Was it as bad as you thought it would be?”

David sighed. “Yes,” he said. “And no. I never expected the whole rebellion thing. I still can’t imagine my mother ever doing anything my grandmother didn’t approve of. I can’t help but wonder what things would have been like if she’d told Nanna to go to hell.”

“Fireworks, I’m sure.”

“You don’t cross Nanna and come out unscathed. She leaves claw marks. A lesson we all learned years ago.”

“Jesus, now I’m feeling sorry for your mother.”

“Don’t. She was a coward. It was easier to give in than defy her own mother. That was her choice. No one else’s. She’s damn lucky the woman approved of Graham as suitable. He’s probably the only good thing she ever did.”

They entered a small clearing in the woodlot. David could hear the whisper of nearby flowing water. A dragonfly zipped through the air past him and a gnarled willow tree dwarfed everything around it.

David pointed up into the tangled strands of whip-like branches. “There.”

Chris peered up. “Where? I don’t—oh there it is.” He studied the sturdy-looking planks that formed a platform nearly ten feet off the ground. Several rungs had been nailed into the tree trunk as a ladder. Where once there had been pristine wood, moss now grew on the warped boards.

Chris reached up to touch one. “Think you could still climb it?”

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“I’m not feeling all that suicidal.”

“Oh, come on, where’s your spirit of adventure?” Chris turned dancing eyes on his husband. “We could play pirate treasure. You can be the dashing sea captain who sweeps his cabin boy off his feet.”

“Like you’ve ever been anybody’s boy.”

Chris got closer, his breath warm on David’s cheek. “I could be yours.”

Then before David could stop him, Chris had scrambled up to the platform. He leaned over the edge and peered down at David. His grin was infectious. “Coming?”

“You’re crazy,” David said, once he had pulled himself up after Chris.

“And you love every minute of it.”

Chris lay back on the platform, one knee bent, his hands behind his head. All he needed was a stalk of grass between his teeth to complete the picture of a golden hayseed. A hayseed who was altogether too sexy. David slid down beside him.

“So what do we do now?” Chris asked, rolling over onto his side to face David. He traced David’s inner thigh with his fingers, feathering lightly over David’s swelling basket.

David tried to ignore his growing erection. He stared up at the treetops. Sunlight danced through swaying branches, concealing then revealing the cloud-flecked deep blue sky. Lengthening shadows threw the tree house into shadow. “We try to get down from here without breaking anything.”

“I meant now that we know the whole story.”

“But do we?” David finally turned his lantern gaze on Chris.

“We have one side of a pretty complicated story. That’s not everything.”

“Then we go get the other half.” Chris began stroking him in earnest. Before David could object he slid the zipper of his jeans down, bent over and tasted him. David completely lost his train of thought.

58 P.A. Brown

After, Chris sat up, a smug smile on his lips. “Oh, Captain.

My captain.”

“You are so full of it,” David said, but he was laughing when he said it.

“Yes, I am.”

They lazed on the platform for the rest of the afternoon, half dozing at one point, only to wake and make love again. When they finally exited the woodlot onto Valley Stream Road the sun was setting over the lake. They walked down the road to his parents’ place holding hands, not caring who might see them.

Only when they drew near the house did David drop his hand and make it clear there would be no more touching.

Graham’s car was in the driveway. They found him on the deck, drinking a Pig’s Ear. He waved them over and pointed at a cooler beside his Adirondack chair. “Help yourselves. And if you’re hungry, there’s some roast beef left and some fresh bread I picked up in town.”

They both cracked a beer open.

“What did you do today?”

“Went for a walk around the property,” David said. He traded a warm glance with Chris. “Did you know that old tree fort is still there?”

“Hmph, haven’t thought of that thing in years. I remember when you practically lived in it one summer.”

David remembered that too. That was the summer he had realized he was attracted to the other boys at school, and not the girls, like all his buddies. It had scared him spitless.

“You should have told me.” David reached over and took Chris’s hand in his, taking comfort in the familiar touch.

Graham ducked his head. “It seemed easier than the fuss that would surely have followed. I’m sorry, son. That’s a pretty poor excuse for years of lies…”

David didn’t want to, but he understood. His mother and grandmother were like the force of an ocean riptide, inexorable.

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Unstoppable. Graham could no more stand in their way than he himself could have all those years ago. He’d had the option of leaving, something he knew Graham would never do.

“I have to go find out for myself. I hope you understand that.”

Graham sighed. “Then I wish you luck. But don’t turn your back on your family here. Your mother may not know how to show it, but she does love you. So do I.”

David nodded, even if he didn’t believe him. Not about his mother, at least. He had never doubted Graham’s love. He raised his beer to his mouth. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

All three fell into a companionable silence. They watched the sun slide past the distant canopy of trees and the sky go from crimson to purple, to velvety black. The first stars came out.

Soon the sky was ablaze with more stars than David had seen in years. In L.A. celestial stars were a rare event.

Beside him Chris yawned. David finished his beer and stood.

“I’m hungry. I’ll make us some sandwiches.” He reached for Chris’s hand again. Together they said goodnight and went into the kitchen. Chris sat at the marble island while David prepared two sourdough sandwiches, slathering on the Dijon mustard he knew Chris adored. They ate standing up. Then they climbed the stairs to David’s room. David shut the door and turned to face Chris.

Chris made a step toward the bathroom. “I need to get my pajamas.”

David caught him and pulled him into an embrace, nuzzling his throat. “Why? It’s not like I’m going to let you wear them.

Come on, your captain needs you.”

Sunday, 4:10am Valley Stream Road, Holderness, New Hampshire
Chris grabbed both suitcases off his unused bed. He set them on the floor and smoothed his hand over the down comforter.

He’d never expected this leg of their trip to yield so many surprises. David was proving to have layers Chris had never experienced.

When Chris had first met and fallen in love with his big bear he had known that not only had David hidden his orientation from his fellow police officers, he hadn’t been comfortable with public shows of affection, even within the gay community.

Now that all seemed to be changing. He wasn’t sure what had happened between David and his mother—he suspected it was a lot more than David would admit—but he knew it had been incandescent. And now David seemed to have decided he didn’t have to hide his feelings.

It was still tentative, there was no guarantee that David wouldn’t slam the closet door shut again, but for now Chris was overjoyed. He loved David and it wasn’t always easy withholding his desire to show his feelings to the man he loved. He began to think that even if David left the LAPD, it would be okay. They would make it, no matter what.

David entered the room. He looked spiffy in a Madras shirt and stonewashed cargo shorts. Chris admired his muscular legs covered with thick black hair.

“Ready?”

Chris hefted both bags. “All set.”

“You want to grab breakfast?”

“Let’s wait till we’re on the road,” Chris said, not admitting how eager he was to leave. “Maybe we can get a bite on the way.”

62 P.A. Brown

“Suits me.”

David popped the trunk open and they piled their luggage inside. Then he closed it with a loud thunk. They both turned to find Graham on the front veranda. He trotted down the steps and held out his hand.

“I’m glad you came, no matter what happened. As far as I’m concerned you’re always welcome here. Both of you.”

They shook hands all around. David made no comment on his mother’s conspicuous absence.

“Let me know how it goes in Bermuda.”

“Sure, I’ll give you a call.”

David slid behind the wheel of the rental car. Chris met Graham’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he said. “It means a lot to him.”

“Well you two take care. Especially you. Take care of him, Chris.”

“I will.”

David patted his knee when Chris climbed into the passenger seat.

“You ready for this?”

“Yeah, I think so. You?”

“Nervous.”

Chris popped a Red Hot Chili Peppers CD into the player.

Soon the voice of Anthony Kiedis singing
Californication
filled the small space.

They stopped at a roadside greasy-spoon where Chris loaded up on carbs in the form of a massive pile of Belgian waffles, whipped cream and strawberries. David selected a more modest breakfast of a cheddar cheese omelet and buttered toast. They both indulged in several cups of coffee.

They arrived at the airport a good two hours before their flight. It was still dark outside, though the first faint blush of BeRMudA heAt
63

dawn painted the eastern horizon pink. They checked their baggage and got their boarding passes. Chris bought a gossip magazine while David picked up a new Robert Sawyer science fiction novel he’d heard about. Finally they boarded.

The gossip rag forgotten in his lap, Chris dozed off shortly after takeoff. David shook him awake when the pilot announced they were descending into the Bermuda International Airport.

Through the tiny window they watched the island grow and evolve into a series of bays and runways. Grabbing their carry-ons, they waited in line to deplane.

The humidity smacked them like a wet towel the minute they hit the stairs leading to a shimmering tarmac. As one, the passengers hurried through the arrivals door. Once inside, cool air washed over them. A steel drum band greeted them in the corridor playing some sprightly island music. It was a vast improvement over the elevator muzak most public airports played. They collected their bags and went through customs quickly. Outside they found a line of taxis, mostly small vans, waiting by the curb. A thickset black man approached them.