Page 48 of Free Wind (Lifeguards of Barking Beach #2)

“Hiya!”

“Have a good week?” Blake asked. He shifted his leg carefully, his feet on the coffee table on a pillow, his elbow on the arm of the couch. It’d only been a few days, but he’d go mental holed up in his bedroom, and the midday light in the living room was bright.

His gaze flicked to the painting over the TV, and he took a deep breath. He’d always found the curl of azure water comforting, and now he smiled and remembered Damo peering closely at it that first night.

“Can’t complain,” Mum said, pointing her phone down at the kitchen sink and the pile of potatoes she was peeling. “Doing a gratin.”

“That’s new.”

She shrugged. “Reckon we need to try a few new things around here.” As the camera shook, she shouted, “John, Blakey’s on the phone!”

Blakey.

His eyes burned with a sudden swell of emotion, and he blinked rapidly. Wouldn’t do to get emotional before they’d even had the talk. Still, he found himself blurting, “You know I love you, right?”

The view on the camera suddenly shifted to Mum’s wide eyes. “What’s happened?” she demanded. “Are you ill?”

Dad’s voice said distantly, getting louder as he neared, “What’s up, darl? Blake’s crook?”

“Are you?” she asked again. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing! Well, not nothing, but I’m not sick. I’m fine.”

“Is it cancer? You’re so young!”

“I’m fine!” Blake had to laugh, some of his nerves easing.

Dad’s cheek appeared over Mum’s shoulder, his wiry hair curling over his ear. “I’d ask if you’re in some kind of trouble, but that would be a silly question with you.”

“I had a little mishap in the water the other day. I—”

“You and that surfing!” Mum exclaimed. “It’s too dangerous!”

“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” Blake said calmly. “The fin of my board cut my thigh, and I had to get a handful of stitches.” Two handfuls, but that would only upset them. “I can walk around my apartment without the crutches now, and it’s only been a few days.”

“No head injury?” Mum demanded.

“Nope.” He knocked his skull. “Still thick as ever. Just like yours.”

“The cheek!” she exclaimed, fighting a smile.

“What about work?” Dad asked.

“I’ll have to take time off again to be sure I can drive safely. A few weeks. The council won’t take any chances. Rightfully so.” It had to be his right leg that got cut. Of course.

Dad frowned. “Why were you off already?”

“Took a week’s holiday.”

“For anything special?” Mum asked. “Wasn’t to visit home, apparently.”

Blake ignored the jibe. He’d rehearsed this speech, but in the moment, it all flew out the window. He blurted, “I have a son.”

For an endless moment, his parents simply stared at him. Then Mum said through a tight smile, “Little early for April Fool’s.”

“His name’s Cooper, and he’s amazing.”

Dad’s bushy eyebrows rose, and he was silent a few beats. “This isn’t a stitch-up.” To Mum he added, “He’s not joking, darl.”

Blake nodded. “It’s true. I have a son. You have another grandchild.”

Mum clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes brimming with tears. Then she exclaimed, “I knew it!”

For a moment, he couldn’t make sense of it. Then his heart plummeted. Don’t say it. Please.

“I knew it wasn’t true! See? You just needed to find the right girl.”

“No,” he gritted out. She was still talking in a rush, and he didn’t want to hear it. “No!” he shouted.

Mum’s mouth gaped, but no more words came out, thankfully. Dad cleared his throat. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“I’m gay!” He was still shouting, and he didn’t care. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m gay. I’ll never not be gay.”

Mum asked stiffly, “Then how do you have a son? What are we supposed to think?”

“He’s eight. It was one time with a girl, and it helped me realize I’m queer. Which I told you years ago.”

They half laughed awkwardly. “We know.”

“But you don’t accept it. Not really. Look at how you just reacted when you thought I was straight after all! Even though queer people can and do have kids all the time. Which I’ve told you.”

Mum was pale. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s fine that you’re—” She waved a hand.

“Gay. You can’t even say it. We talk around it. But I had a boyfriend in uni and I have one now. I wear eyeliner and lippy when I go dancing. I volunteer at the Pride parade every year.”

“Makeup?” Dad asked, his bushy eyebrows close in bafflement.

“Yep. Why not? Because it’s for girls? Screw that. It’s fun. I like it. I’m queer, and you can’t keep on pretending it’s not true. If we’re going to have a relationship, you need to acknowledge the truth. Acknowledge me.”

As his parents blinked at him uncertainly, tears filled his eyes. “I’m gay, and I need you to love me the way I am.”

Tears spilled down Mum’s cheeks. “Oh, Blakey. Of course we love you.”

Voice gruff, Dad said, “We just worry. We—”

“No. There’s nothing to worry about. Not anything more than the worry you have for Ella and Adam and Richie. You don’t get to use that as an excuse.”

They opened their mouths to speak, Mum wiping her eyes, but Blake cut them off.

“I’m gay, and I have a boyfriend, and I’m going to talk about him. His name’s Damo, and he’s a lifeguard, and he’s amazing. I love him, and I won’t let him live…in the margins. Unsaid. No. He deserves more than that, and so do I. I won’t be quiet anymore.”

“Oh, son,” Dad whispered hoarsely. “You never said…”

“I shouldn’t have had to!” The words punched out of him, the hand holding the phone shaking. “You should’ve loved me the way I am. I wanted your approval, and I let myself derail my life for it. No more. Do you understand?”

They nodded stiffly.

After they stared at each other in silence for uncomfortably long, Blake swallowed hard. “Okay. Do you want to hear about my son?”

“What kind of question is that?” Mum demanded. “’Course we bloody do! Did you say eight years old?”

Blake quickly filled them in, adding, “I totally understand why Tasha didn’t tell me. I’m not angry with her.”

Dad frowned thoughtfully. “Squid Allen’s cousin? Can’t recall.”

“Suppose I don’t blame her for not wanting to get tangled up with a bloke she barely knew,” Mum said. “But we’ve all missed out on so much.”

“We’ll make up for lost time now,” Blake said.

“Too right we will.” Mum nodded vigorously. “Another grandson! When’s Cooper coming to visit?” she asked. “Or we can go visit Tasha and Cooper in Sydney. We’ll get the Connors to run things here for a week. Or we’ll just shut down.”

“Narelle Holbrook volunteering to go to Sydney of her own free will?” Blake asked with a wobbly smile.

“For my grandson, I’ll brave that godforsaken city.”

Tears pricked his eyes. No matter what, he still loved his parents. “Thanks, Mum. But Tash and her husband said they’d love to come to Blinman.”

“No one loves to come to Blinman,” Dad said. “But we appreciate it. When can we expect you all?”

“School holidays, I hope. They just went back to the East Coast.”

“Must’ve been hard to see him go. Can we see a photo?” Mum asked.

“Of course, and yeah, it was tough. But we’ve been video chatting every day. It’s been good.”

Mum fought tears. “You’ll be such a bloody good dad, Blakey. Cooper’s lucky. You were always a good boy. Wasn’t he?”

Arm around her, Dad gave Mum a squeeze. “He was. The best.”

“And we love you,” she added. “Gay and all. We’ll… We’ll do better.”

He nodded. “Okay, you’re going to make me cry too.”

She wiped her eyes. “And don’t you think for a second we’ve forgotten that you nearly killed yourself surfing. What’ve you done to yourself?”

Reluctantly, he angled his phone down at his bandaged leg. “It’s really not bad. I promise.”

“Crikey,” Dad muttered. “Wouldn’t want to see a serious injury.”

Mum ordered, “Take off the bandage. I need to see it properly.”

“No. I promise, you don’t need to worry.”

“Who’s taking care of ya?” she demanded. “You’re living all alone. Unless… What did you say his name was?”

“Damo. Yes, my boyfriend’s taking care of me.”

“A lifeguard, you said? Sexy blokes, they are.”

“Oi, I’m standing right here.” Dad lifted his chin. “Sexier than a country publican?”

“Never.” She pulled down his chin and smacked a kiss on his lips, and Blake smiled. They weren’t perfect, but they were still Mum and Dad. They’d promised to do better, and he’d hold them to it.

“Sure this is a good idea?” Damo asked.

“Positive. I’m walking better. Slow and steady.”

Damo didn’t seem convinced, but Blake kissed his cheek before grabbing his keys from the little shelf by the door. “I’ve got my brave lifeguard boyfriend to help me. And I’m using my crutches.”

The flight of stairs down to the ground was still tricky, but Blake was determined. He was antsy in his apartment and needed to get some proper fresh air.

Damo stood below, peering up at him, determined to catch his fall. He was so sexy and beautiful and Blake had to stop and kiss his lips this time.

A smile tugged at said lips, and Damo said, “We’ll miss sunset at this rate.”

Once Blake was in the passenger seat of his SUV with Damo behind the wheel, taking them down the coast road toward Barking, Blake played with the radio. The sun was lower in the sky, but still bright, and he rolled down his window as “Ventura Highway” came on.

“Good one,” Damo said.

They listened in peaceful quiet, reaching the beach just as the song ended.

The crowd had thinned, and Damo found a spot in the car park.

Even though Blake had been getting around his unit without the crutches, he humored Damo and used them to cross over to the beach, carefully going down one of the ramps to the sand.

Families were packing up, but there were still a fair few people scattered over the beach. Damo spread a blanket and put his arm firmly around Blake’s waist as Blake lowered himself. He wanted to protest that the wound really was improving and he didn’t need to be treated with such care.

He didn’t, though. The weight of Damo’s arm secure around him as they settled on the blanket was too good.

They sat as the sun slowly dipped toward the horizon. Damo waved and said hello to people he knew, and a few lifeguards stopped briefly on their way past on patrol.

Blake watched Liam Fox dig up a dangerous current warning sign and pack it onto the trailer on the back of his buggy. He moved on to the flags, yanking them out of the sand. The end of another day at Barking. As wild as the beach could get, it was wonderfully peaceful after hours.

“You were so lucky to grow up here,” Blake said. “Not that the country didn’t have its charms.”

“Outback’s beautiful in its own way,” Damo agreed. “But there’s nothing better than Barkers.”

“Doesn’t look like we’ll get much color,” Blake said after the sun had disappeared beyond the sea.

“Not much.” Damo shrugged. “Still awesome. No such thing as a bad sunset in my book.”

“No?”

“Nope.” Damo gazed out at the pale orange horizon.

Waves washed over the sand, the tide coming in, and gulls cried.

“Some are splashier than others with the color, like a big wave rider doing tricks on their board—handstands and alley-oops. Tonight’s like an old bloke who still paddles out to catch the small swells, even though he had a hip replacement and his hotshot days are forever ago. He still catches some sweet rides.”

“No bad sunsets,” Blake agreed. He hooked his pinkie over Damo’s where they leaned on their hands.

“We get so many good ones here, but I still hate missing even one.” Damo exhaled sharply, a sardonic twist to his lips.

“I remember when I was a grom, I stayed at the beach even though the yellow towel was out at home. I needed to see the sunset. It was pink and orange and red and epic. Even when the sun was gone, the colors stayed for ages, getting darker and darker as the night took over. My dad got so aggro. I was late for dinner and still wet in my boardies. I remember him sayin’, ‘Watching the sunset? What for? There’ll be another bloody sunset tomorrow!

’ And I tried to explain that it wouldn’t be this one.

That it was gone forever and would never, ever happen again.

That every sunset was like a fingerprint. ”

“That’s poetic.” Blake stroked Damo’s pinkie.

Damo smiled crookedly. “It is, hey? Very poetic. Dad just looked at me like I was a boofhead and told me to eat my bloody dinner.” He laughed sadly.

“I’m glad you still love sunsets.”

“Every single one.” Damo glanced around. “You reckon they think we’re boyfriends? Or that we’re just mates enjoying the view?” He only seemed curious, not nervous.

Blake glanced around at the few dozen remaining people. “Dunno. They probably haven’t thought about it. Too busy with the sunset to worry about us.”

Though Damo had announced Blake was his boyfriend after the fin chop, Blake realized they’d never engaged in PDA at the beach out in the open.

“If I kissed you, I doubt they’d care one way or the other.”

Damo’s crooked smile was beautiful. “Since you’re my boyfriend, I reckon you should kiss me at sunset.”

“I reckon.” Blake’s heart thump-thump-thumped against his ribcage. “Seems like the thing to do. Being your boyfriend and all.”

He brushed back a stray curl from Damo’s cheek, tracing his cheekbone. Damo watched and waited, lips parted and blue eyes dancing, the golden, fading light caramel on his face. Blake caught his bottom lip, their stubble scraping, mouths opening on a sigh.

It was slow and sweet, and Blake thought maybe kisses were like fingerprints—each their own perfect sunset.