Page 111 of Smoky Mountain Dreams

“I…I want to say yes. I mean, I have no place else to go nowthat my mom…” Christopher frowned and pulled his hand out from Jesse’s, takingup the wine and sipping it again. The pull of the alcohol was making him fuzzy,as was the lack of sleep and the exhaustion from the difficult day. Part of himjust wanted to agree and throw himself into Jesse’s arms and rush headlong intothis seeming promise of a family, but…Brigid.

“I don’t think we should plan something like that withoutasking your children. And Brigid won’t like it, Jesse. I don’t want her to bepressured into it, either. I don’t think that’s a very good idea. She needs towant me around before we do something like that.”

Jesse’s shoulders slumped. “But what will you do?”

“I’ll figure something out. Maybe I’ll go with my friendShannon to sing carols in the nursing homes around here. She and her boyfriendhave done that for years. I’m sure she’d let me come along for the ride. That’dbe plenty merry, wouldn’t it?”

“I take it you haven’t spent much time in nursing homes.”

“Just my Gran’s and I usually just go to her room,”Christopher conceded. “But it would be a good thing to do, wouldn’t it? AndShannon asks every year. I’d be making her happy at least.”

Jesse’s brows drew together as he studied his drink. “But ifBrigid came around to the idea? If she got to know you better and liked you? Ifshe agreed?”

“If things changed with her, sure. I’d love to spendChristmas with you. But I wouldn’t want her to feel coerced. That won’t makeher like me any better.”

Jesse looked thoughtful. “How could she get to know you andnot like you?”

Christopher laughed. “I think we both know the answer tothat.”

Jesse rubbed his finger around the rim of his glass, and letout a long breath. “Yeah.”

“I’m not her mom, and I’m not a woman. It’s going to be hardfor her.”

“I know. It’s just…you make me so happy. I know you’d makeher happy too, if she’d just let you.”

Christopher wasn’t sure about that. Making a little girlhappy seemed entirely outside his realm of expertise, even after years ofworking at SMD. Still, his heart fluttered to hear Jesse say that Christophermade him happy.

“Come on,” Christopher said. “Let’s go back to bed.” Hecrumpled up the cellophane Little Debbie wrappers, throwing them into the wastecontainer in the cabinet under the sink.

“Let’s go to the guest room, though,” Jesse murmured, takingChristopher into his arms and running hot hands up and down Christopher’s back,evoking shivers and a stirring in his dick. “I think I’d rather sleep with youin a room with green walls and a painting of a naked water nymph over the bedthan in a room that’s like a jungle vagina.”

Christopher snorted. “I was thinking a womb—a jungle womb.”

“Great minds.”

A few minutes later, they clung together in the darkness ofJesse’s guest room, the blankets and sheets shoved down to the foot of the bedas they rutted against each other, cock sliding against cock, and hipbonescolliding. “I need to bring that mattress in here, though,” Jesse mumbledagainst Christopher’s slick lips. “This one isn’t as comfortable.”

“You’re going to move into this room?” Christopher gasped.

Jesse rolled onto his side, his hips still working againstChristopher’s and his hand gripping Christopher’s cock. “Only when you’re hereand just until I can have the master bedroom re-done. I’m thinking white andcream with blue accents.”

“Green accents would be nice,” Christopher murmured.

Jesse dug his fingers into Christopher’s back, pulling himon top and sliding his legs apart to let Christopher drop between them. “I’llkeep that in mind.”

“Why’s he here?” Brigid asked, her dark eyes narrowingat Christopher napping on the sofa.

Jesse was glad she’d at least kept her voice down.Christopher was exhausted after his difficult Thanksgiving day and the latenight they’d spent talking and fucking. Will, however, was banging up thestairs to play Wii, oblivious to the sleeper on the couch. Still, Chrisslumbered on. Jesse thought he must have really worn Christopher out if he wasable to sleep through that.

“He has the day off,” Jesse said. “Smoky Mountain Dreams isclosed for the weekend.” The park only closed eight days a year: the four-dayweekend around Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve andJanuary first. It was open every other holiday, even Easter.

“Shouldn’t he be with his own family?”

Jesse wondered how she’d react to the truth. Had he raisedan empathetic child? Or would she selfishly not care? “His family disowned him;told him not to come back.”

She blinked. “Why? What did he do?”

Jesse looked at her and simplified it for Brigid. “He toldthem he’s gay.”