Page 32 of Smoky Mountain Dreams

While they waited for her to run their credit cards,Christopher remembered something he’d meant to ask Jesse. “You said you’d knownLash for a long time. Maybe you can answer a question for me. Why do they callhim Lash?”

Jesse wiped his lips with his napkin and looked around likehe was checking who might be listening, despite the fact that everyone else onthe roof was still seated well away from their corner table.

“When we were just kids he went by his given name—which isAshley, by the way.”

“Wow. Did he get flack for that?”

“Nope. He was always kind of scary. But when he was ateenager he got a reputation amongst the easier girls for…well, how can I putthis politely?”

“Come on. Don’t even bother to try.” Christopher rolled hiseyes a little. They’d sucked each other’s cocks on the floor of a grist mill;it seemed silly to act like they were precious or something.

“Okay. He apparently goes down on girls with great gusto anddoesn’t let up until they’ve reached the great, creamy heights of pleasure.”

“No way.”

“Yep. That’s what they say. Tongue-Lashing Ash they calledhim. And I, being despised and an outcast in high school, what with being anincredibly obvious fag at that time in my life, hung out with the really easygirls for the most part since they didn’t really judge. I heard it straightfrom the horses’ mouths, so to speak. Not that any of them resembled horses.Not in the least.”

“Wow. I don’t think I wanted to know that.” And hmm, Jessehad been an “obvious fag” in high school? How had he ended up married to awoman?

Jesse laughed and raised his hands, indicating it wasn’t hisfault that Christopher knew it now. “Over time, it just got shortened to Lash.And the rest is history.”

Christopher swallowed the last of his margarita. “Soapparently he does three things well.”

“Yep. He can sing. He can drink. And he can give anunbeatable tongue lashing.”

“Just rumor of course.”

“Total hearsay.” Jesse had been chuckling, but at that hecracked up a little too.

“I’ll never be able to hear someone say his name againwithout getting a very different mental picture in my mind now.”

“Hey! You asked!”

Christopher laughed again.

It was only as Christopher opened his front door thathe suddenly realized he was bringing Jesse Birch of Birch’s Biscuits &Bakeries’ wealth into his Gran’s little four-room cottage, and he was suddenlyvery glad he’d cleaned the place thoroughly in hopes of getting laid. It mightbe tiny and spare, but it was clean and shiny, and Christopher had nothing tobe ashamed about.

He tossed his keys on the coffee table, and took Jesse’scoat. When he turned from hanging their jackets on the coat rack, he foundJesse standing with his hands in his pockets, taking in the room.

“Want the tour?” Christopher asked. “It’s quick. This is theliving room.” He spread his arms to encompass where they were standing, andthen pointed to the adjoining room on the left, separated by a wall with anopening so wide that it was almost the same space. “That’s the kitchen.”

He motioned toward the indention in the back of the roomthat he and his Gran always called “the hall,” though it wasn’t more than onegood step wide and two and a half paces long. He swung one hand a little to theleft. “That back there is the office-slash-laundry room and the way out to thescreened porch.” He pointed at the door in the center of the hall. “Bathroom.”And then he waved to the right. “Our destination. Also known as the bedroom.”

Jesse stood comfortably in the center of the rug by thecoffee table, nodding his head. “I like it.”

“It’s small, but it’s home.”

“It feels good,” Jesse said. “It feels like the people who’velived here knew how to love each other. It’s nice. Though…right now,” he wavedhis hand at shoulder height, palm down. “There’s some loneliness layering overit. I think that might be you.”

Christopher stared. “Okay, are you a psychic or something?”

Jesse laughed. “No. I just talk about things I shouldn’t.”

Christopher walked into the kitchen and motioned for Jesseto follow. “Water?”

“No thanks. I’m good.”

“Why shouldn’t you talk about things like that?” Christophersaid, grabbing two bottles of water from the pantry anyway. He turned to findJesse bent at the waist, looking over the shelves full of vinyl albums thatChristopher kept in the space between the kitchen and living room.