Love Lessons (40 page)

“That’s fantastic.” Williams stopped to look down at his daughters, one who was coloring dangerously close to the edge of her paper. “Sweetheart, not on the table.”

“I hear you’re doing well in Iowa City, Professor?” Greg prompted.

“Yes, I’m a Hawkeye now. Karen is loving working at the University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics, and the kids are happy in school. They all tell me they wish I’d have lost my job a long time ago.”

Dick saw Kelly and smiled. “Kelly’s doing well too. He’s finally settled on a major.”

Williams turned to the doorway. “Oh? Do tell. I’ve been wondering.”

“Nothing exciting,” Kelly confessed. “I’m back in the business world.”

Dick huffed. “It’s very exciting. He wants to do public relations, he says, so he’s focusing on marketing and accounting. I have an old school friend who teaches in the Carlson School of Management, and he tells me with the way Kelly’s taking to his classes, he’s going to have no problem getting into graduate school.”

“That’s brilliant.” Williams smiled at Kelly. “A lawyer and a public-relations wizard. Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

Greg nudged his wife. “Cara has a new job too.”

“Oh?” William asked, and Cara launched into the story.

Kelly slipped out, heading to the dining room, where Walter was instructing Tibby and Lisa how to arrange the table settings.

“We’re a bit crowded, so do your best. For the kids’ table, just make sure it looks fancy like the adults while not actually containing anything that will get any of them grounded.” He looked up, saw Kelly and smiled. “Hey, you. Everything okay?”

Kelly nodded, though his return smile was a little forced. “Just waiting for something to go wrong.”

Walter wagged a finger at him. “Listen here, Eeyore. We’re having a Disney Thanksgiving, and don’t you forget it.”

“Even Disney movies have a villain,” Kelly pointed out.

“Don’t worry,” Tibby said. “Grandma will be here at one.”

Grandma Marissa did arrive on time, but so did Walter’s other grandmother, Claire, the one who always begged for pictures of the two of them, and when she saw Kelly, she squealed in delight and hugged him like a long-lost son. “I’m going to get the two of you in a picture with me before I go,” she promised.

Nothing did go wrong, not really—oh, there was the occasional tension between Shari and her mother, and the kids broke into three fights before their mother threatened them within an inch of their lives, but other than that, the dinner went fine. Everyone had enough to eat, and Kelly didn’t have an allergic reaction. The whole fiasco was poised to go off without a hitch.

All the way up until the end of the meal, when Rose and Cara came from the kitchen, looking grave.

“There’s something wrong with the dessert,” Cara declared.

Kelly frowned. “The pumpkin pies? But they’re fine. I saw them when I went into the kitchen.”

“No, not the pies,” Rose said. “The other dessert.” The door to the kitchen opened, and she waved Kelly out of his chair. “Here, Walter’s bringing it. See for yourself.”

Rising, Kelly tried to figure out what other dessert they had, and when he saw their cast-iron frying pan, he thought maybe his boyfriend had lost his mind. It must have been some extra thing he’d tacked on at the last minute, and from the grim expression on Walter’s face, whatever was under that tea towel wasn’t pretty.

“See for yourself,” Walter said, and held out the pan to Kelly.

Kelly lifted the tea towel.

He stared for a second—only a second. Because after that, he had to press his hand over his mouth and try not to cry. When he realized he heard the soft, familiar sounds of “Waiting for the Lights” coming from the kitchen stereo, he did cry. And laugh.

Walter took the ring out of the center of the empty frying pan. He held it close so Kelly could see the engraved swans on the outside of the gold.

Smiling, just a little shyly, Walter said, “Kelly Davidson, will you marry me?”

Kelly wiped at his eyes. He could see his family out of the corner of his vision, though none of them bothered to hide their tears. He could see Rose, holding her girlfriend tight. He could see his future mother-in-law, looking happy and sad at the same time.

He could see Walter, down on one knee now, still holding the damn pan as he held out the ring. Walter, who had managed the silliest, sappiest, most wonderful proposal ever.

Walter, who today, as he did every day, wore Kelly’s class ring.

“Well?” Cara prompted from behind him. “Are you going to say anything?”

“Yes,” Kelly said, beaming, laughing, his heart soaring as their friends and family cheered, as Walter slid the ring onto his finger and stood, taking him into his embrace, into his life, his love.

Into their happily ever after.

About the Author

Heidi Cullinan has always loved a good love story, provided it has a happy ending. She enjoys writing across many genres but loves above all to write happy, romantic endings for LGBT characters because there just aren’t enough of those stories out there. When Heidi isn’t writing, she enjoys cooking, reading, knitting, listening to music, and watching television with her husband and ten-year-old daughter. Heidi also volunteers frequently for her state’s LGBT rights group, One Iowa, and is proud to be from the first midwestern state to legalize same-sex marriage. Find out more about Heidi, including her social networks, at
www.heidicullinan.com
.

Look for these titles by Heidi Cullinan

Now Available:

A Private Gentleman

Family Man (with Marie Sexton)

Coming Soon:

Let it Snow

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Special Delivery

Double Blind

Sometimes family chooses you.

Family Man

© 2013 Heidi Cullinan and Marie Sexton

How does a man get to be forty without knowing whether he’s gay? That’s a question Vince Fierro is almost afraid to answer. If he is gay, it’ll be a problem for his big, fat Italian family. Still, after three failed marriages, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been playing for the wrong team.

There’s only one way to settle it, once and for all—head for Chicago’s Boystown bars, far from anyone who knows him. Naturally, he runs smack into someone from the neighborhood.

Between working two jobs, going to school, taking care of his grandmother, and dealing with his mother’s ongoing substance abuse, Trey Giles has little time for fun, let alone dating someone who swears he’s straight. Yet after one night of dancing cheek-to-cheek to the sultry strains of Coltrane, Trey finds himself wanting to help Vinnie figure things out—no promises, and no sex.

It seems like a simple plan, until their “no-sex” night turns into the best date of their lives and forges a connection that complicates everything.

Warning: This book deals with alcoholism, broken promises, and overbearing little sisters.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Family Man:

After the show they went to the bar Trey had taken them to that first night when Vince had gone out. They didn’t hold hands on the way, which would have been weird, but they did walk closely together on the sidewalk, which was nice.

“Why do I hardly ever see you at the restaurant anymore?” Trey asked. “Too much family?”

Vince shook his head. “No such thing. I just…” He paused, trying to think of how to phrase it. “Well, this sounds nuts, but sometimes being in the middle of all that family can be very lonely.”

Trey frowned. “I never thought about it. There’s just me and Gram and my mom. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to have cousins and stuff.”

“I have plenty of those. Let me know when you want to borrow them.”

They walked in silence for awhile. A group of young guys laughing and looking inebriated took up too much of the sidewalk, and even after Vince moved far to the left, practically hugging the side of a building, they were set to run Trey right over. Without thinking, Vince put his arm around Trey and shifted their positions, huddling around him and putting his back to the drunks. As they buffeted Vince’s back, he glanced down at Trey, who was gazing up at him, eyes sparkling.

Vince smiled.

Trey smiled back, the light in his eyes spreading to the rest of his face.

When the drunks were past, Vince went back to the center of the sidewalk, but he found his arm lingered against Trey’s back, and he left it there as long as he could until it seemed awkward. As he let it fall, though, Trey took hold of his biceps.

It felt good.

Being with Trey felt good. Going out with him—on a date, yeah. So what? So he was dating a guy. So he was…gay, or whatever. What the fuck did it matter? He was having a good time. He was happy. He’d played skee-ball and watched a play and now was going to go dancing. They’d laughed and ate pizza and talked and talked, more than Vince thought he had on a date, ever.

There was nothing here to freak out over, just like Rachel said. And he wanted to do this again. The thought made his insides jump all over the place, like a skee-ball was rattling around inside him hitting nothing but 100s.

The jazz bar was a lot busier than it had been the other night they’d come, but it was still ten times more pleasant than that awful gay bar where he’d met up with Trey the last time. A live band played “In a Sentimental Mood” almost as good as Ellington and Coltrane. The dance floor was full, as was the bar, and all the tables. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror and saw that Rach was right, he looked damn fine. Trey too, and the two of them looked good together.

Vince grinned. All he needed was a scotch and a cigar and the moment would be damn near perfect.

He nodded to the bar. “Want anything to drink?”

“Water, please.”

“Sure thing.” Vince pulled out his wallet and elbowed into a free space to order. He got a bottle of water for Trey and a scotch neat for himself.

Trey took the water and smiled, but Vince couldn’t help but notice his date’s gaze drift down to his scotch, and that his expression went a little flat at the sight of the drink. If he hadn’t indulged in a single malt call, he might have put it aside and forgotten about it.

Instead he sipped even more casually than normal and kept watching Trey for clues as to why his ordering a scotch was such a bad thing. They stood there for a few minutes, until the song ended. When a new one started, Vince eased back happily against the wall behind him.

“Somebody in this band likes Coltrane.” He took a sip of his scotch and basked in the sultry saxophone. “I like this band.”

“Do you listen to a lot of jazz?”

“Oh yeah. But Coltrane is my favorite. Nobody has been able to make a sax sing like he could. These guys don’t do too badly.”

Trey leaned against the wall too, but he sagged a bit against Vince’s side. “It’s so…I don’t know. Not soft, but relaxing. Easy. I feel like I could float away.”

“That’s the idea. Jazz seduces you.” Seeing that Trey had drained his water bottle, Vince took one more sip of scotch, leaned over to put the unfinished glass on the bar and held out his hand. “Ready to dance?”

Beaming, Trey took his hand.

They found a bit of open floor space up front by the band. Vince herded them off to the side, in part because he was still a little self-conscious about dancing with a man, in part because it was dark there, and he liked the idea of dancing in the dark with Trey.

Still, when Trey settled into his arms, fitting their bodies close together, Vince watched the other couples to see who was watching him. A few were, though most didn’t seem to care, too wrapped up in each other. Maybe some of those who noticed looked like they didn’t care for two guys dancing. Maybe he read into it.

They weren’t the only same-sex couple on the floor, either. Two other male couples and a female pair were scattered amongst the heterosexuals. Realizing he’d just lumped himself in with the not-heterosexual crowd, the skee-ball went berserk inside Vince again, this time finding every gutter.

He shut his eyes and tried to shut off his stupid head, tried instead to focus on Trey.

It was a good distraction. God, but Trey just
fit
in his arms. A lot of women had, yeah, but not like this. It felt completely different to hold a man. Trey’s body was harder, more filled out, and in more than that hard ridge pressing against the front of Vince’s trousers. He smelled different too. Like a man. And it was so…right.

The band was playing Sinatra now, a smooth-voiced tenor singing “Like Someone in Love”. Vince pulled Trey closer, fitting their bodies so tight together they were nearly fused. He didn’t hide his erection, and when Trey shifted against him, subtly increasing the friction in time to the beat, Vince didn’t let it do anything but fuel the pleasure of the moment.

Trey nuzzled Vince’s neck, his nose, then his lips brushing Vince’s collar, his skin. “Vinnie?”