Where the Lovelight Gleams (8 page)

There were nods and murmurs of assent, and Ryan got up to help clear the table. Cary leaped up beside him and began piling plates. “Thank you again for an incredible dinner, Maureen.”

She fingered the new pearl necklace she wore. “My pleasure, dear. Thank you for the wonderful gifts. They really are too much.”

“It was the least I could do after you welcomed me into your home.” Cary picked up a stack of plates and carried them to the kitchen.

“Don’t be silly. Any
friend
of Ryan’s is part of the family,” Lisa said as she reached for more wine.

Tony deftly maneuvered the bottle out of her reach. “Come on, let’s put on some coffee.”

Ryan gave him a grateful smile as Lisa grumbled but followed Tony to the kitchen.

Once they finished coffee and dessert, they all flopped in the living room, too stuffed to do anything but watch one of the new movies Santa had put under the tree. Christmas dinner was always early, and by nine they were all in bed.

Well, his family was in bed. Ryan was pacing by his, waiting for Cary to finish in the bathroom. All day he’d had to keep his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch. It didn’t seem real that he
could
touch Cary now.

“I like the new PJs.” Cary stepped off the top of the ladder.

Ryan flushed. He’d stripped down to his white briefs while he waited. “Thanks.”

“Guess I’m overdressed.” Cary pulled his T-shirt over his head and kicked off his pajama bottoms. He wasn’t wearing underwear. He switched off the light, but the moon was still bright.

Ryan’s throat went dry as Cary stalked toward him. “That’s a good look for you.”

As he sank to his knees, Cary reached for Ryan’s hips. He nuzzled Ryan through his briefs, taking deep breaths, his exhalations sending goose bumps over Ryan’s thighs. Cary tugged down Ryan’s briefs, and Ryan stepped out of them. His pulse zoomed, blood rushing in his ears as Cary closed his lips over the head of his dick.

His initial tentativeness, with little kisses and experimental swipes of his tongue, soon evaporated, and Cary sucked Ryan deeply. He bobbed his head back and forth, his lips stretched around Ryan’s throbbing cock. As the blissful minutes passed, Ryan reached up to hold on to the slant of the ceiling, his legs shaking as he watched his fantasies come to life—Cary on his knees for him, saliva dribbling down his chin, his mouth so hot and tight and—

Ryan tugged on Cary’s head to warn him as his balls tightened, but Cary just sucked harder, his cheeks hollowing. Ryan saw bursts of color as he pulsed into Cary’s mouth, biting his tongue to stop his cries. He stroked Cary’s hair. “Jesus. You’re a natural.”

Cary tensed and got to his feet. He swiped his hand over his mouth and wouldn’t meet Ryan’s gaze. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Blinking, Ryan reached for him and cupped his cheek. “What just happened? Where did you go?”

Eyes still averted, Cary shrugged. “I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Come on.” Ryan took his hand and urged him onto his back on Ryan’s bed. He straddled his thighs and stroked Cary’s chest, teasing his nipples and the light hair sprinkled there. “You’re beautiful.”

Cary opened his mouth as if to argue, but Ryan cut him off by swallowing his cock. Cary was already hard and leaking, and Ryan traced the vein on the underside of his shaft with his tongue as he reached down and caressed Cary’s balls and the sensitive skin behind them. He wanted to lift Cary’s ass and bury his face there with his tongue inside, but Cary was already whimpering softly.

Lips stretched wide, Ryan watched as Cary came, his long eyelashes dark on his cheeks, ecstasy written on his slack face. Ryan swallowed as much as he could and licked up the semen that dripped out of his mouth. Cary had been gripping Ryan’s shoulders, and now his hands fell away.

“God. I’ve never…it’s so good with you.”

Ryan stretched out and pulled the duvet over them. He rested his head on Cary’s chest and listened to his heartbeat slow back to normal. “It’s the best it’s ever been.” He skimmed his fingers over Cary’s stomach and circled his belly button. “Better than I dreamed.”

They were quiet, and after a while the rhythm of Cary’s breathing began to lull Ryan to sleep. But then Cary spoke, just a whisper.

“Do you really think I’m a natural?”

Ryan opened his eyes, but kept his head resting where it was. “I do. Is that…okay?”

“When I was thirteen, my dad did that terrible movie—the one with the aliens that farted poisonous gas? Anyway, I had to spend the whole summer in New Mexico. It was so hot you could barely move.”

“Uh-huh.” Ryan wasn’t sure where Cary was going with this, but he waited quietly.

“The director’s son was there too, so we hung out. His name was Matt. We played video games and stuff. He was fifteen. He had an indoor pool at their rental house, and we’d spend hours in there goofing around. One day he dared me to go skinny dipping. So we did, and we were roughhousing and…I’m sure you see where this is going.”

Ryan pressed a kiss to Cary’s chest. “Yeah. Go on.”

“We jerked each other off, and it felt so good. The furthest I’d been with a girl was second base, and this was like…heaven. We did it every day, just hand jobs. But I really wanted to kiss him, and one afternoon in the pool, I did.” Cary went silent.

“What happened?”

“He punched me. Called me a fag. Said if I told anyone what we’d done together he’d tell everyone I was queer and get my father fired. I spent the rest of the summer by myself. I felt guilty every time I jerked off because I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Matt, or some other guy. It had only been for a second when I kissed him, but it wasn’t like kissing girls. It turned me on in a different way.”

Cary still sounded so ashamed, and it twisted Ryan’s heart. He caressed Cary’s stomach. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I…I know. But I don’t think my father would agree. I may be named after Cary Grant—and the irony is not lost on me—but my dad and grandfather are old-school Republicans. They’d freak if they knew about me. That I’m…whatever I am.”

“Gay?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Maybe?
“I hate to break it to you, but all the sex we’ve been having? It’s gay.”

Cary exhaled loudly. “I know, but…”

“But you can’t say it out loud yet.” Ryan wished it didn’t make his chest ache hollowly. He wanted to sit up and see Cary’s face but part of him was afraid to look.

“I just…I don’t know what I’m saying yet. After Matt, I never went near another guy. I told myself it was a phase—just part of growing up. And I really thought it was. I’ve slept with a lot of women, and I liked it. I wasn’t faking. I like tits and pussy.”

Ryan couldn’t help but grimace. “Okay. But you also like cock. Clearly.”

Cary ran his hand down Ryan’s back and over his butt. “And ass. I…fuck, I really like it. So what does that make me? Bi?”

“I guess. I’ve never…I was always just gay.” Ryan tried to shake off the bad feeling that settled in his gut.
Maybe I’m just a phase.

“Would it bother you if I’m bi?”

“I don’t know.” Ryan propped his chin on Cary’s chest and met his gaze. “I’ve never been with a guy who was bi before. Do you really…I mean, tits I get, but pussy? No thanks.”

Cary shrugged awkwardly. “I know it must seem weird to you.”

“But you want me too? Right?”

Cary ran his fingertip over Ryan’s lips. “All the time. In every way.”

Ryan sighed in relief. “I want to kiss you,” he blurted.

A furrow appeared between Cary’s eyes. “Okay.” He laughed uneasily. “I’m right here.”

“No, I mean I want to kiss you on New Year’s Eve. I want to tell my family that we’re together. I don’t want to hide it. That was a stupid idea.”

Cary was silent for a long moment. “Okay. Yeah. We can trust them.”

Any lingering uneasiness flared into full-on panic and Ryan tensed from head to toe. “But it’s not like we’re going to be a secret if we’re together. I’m out of the closet, Cary. I’m not going back in.”

“I’m not asking you to!” Cary lowered his voice again. “I just want a little time to figure out who I am before I tell the world.”

Ryan sat up, almost grazing his head on the sloped ceiling. “So what does that mean? Up here you’re my lover, and back in LA we’re just friends again? What happens in Canada stays in Canada?”

“That’s not what I said.” Cary clenched his jaw. “You don’t understand. It’s easy for you. Your family loves you the way you are. My family won’t be like that. And can you imagine if the tabloids got a hold of it? I’m up for the new Michael Bay movie, and I can’t afford bad publicity right now.”

“Oh, so being my boyfriend would be bad publicity? Thanks.” Ryan’s temper flared white-hot, and he clambered out of bed and jerked on his pajamas. A voice told him to calm down and not let this spin out of control, but it was lost in a flurry of anger and fear. “I guess I’m good enough to fuck, but not to date.”

“That’s not what I meant! I just want some time to figure things out. The public doesn’t even know I broke up with Amanda yet. My parents don’t know. I can’t get off the plane at LAX holding hands with you.”

“Fine. Maybe we should just stop all this until you decide what you want.” Ryan crossed his arms and took a ragged breath. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops that he was in love with Cary—because he was, without a shadow of a doubt—and it hurt more than he thought possible that Cary wanted to wait, no matter how logical or understandable it might be.

Cary threw back the duvet and stalked over to the other side of the room. “Fine. If that’s the way you want it.”

“The way
I
want it?” Ryan’s voice echoed in the stillness, and he winced and spoke in a harsh whisper. “You’re the one who doesn’t know what he wants.”

“Well, if you want to stop, then we’ll stop.” Cary tugged on his pajamas and climbed into bed. He turned on his side and faced the wall.

After a few moments of impotent pacing, Ryan got back in his own bed. The sheets smelled of Cary, and he could still taste him on his tongue. As Ryan willed sleep to come, he blinked back tears and wondered how things had managed to get so messed up, so quickly.

Chapter Six

“Good afternoon!” Maureen called out.

“Ha-ha.” Ryan shuffled into the kitchen. “It’s not even eleven. Besides, I’m on West Coast time.”

“You’ve been here more than a week! And by that logic, Cary’s on West Coast time, but he’s been out with your father and Tony for hours. We’re not going to have room in the freezer for all these bloody fish.” She stood at the counter, cleaning the latest batch and separating them into freezer bags with an affectionate smile. “But it makes him happy.”

“Mom…” Ryan wasn’t sure what he could even ask. He’d woken with his stomach in knots, hating himself for fighting with Cary.

“Hmm?” She expertly filleted the fish, removing the bones and tossing them aside.

“Nothing. So fish for Boxing Day dinner?”

“Not on your life. Crown roast of pork, thank you very much.”

“Gran! Are you ready to go yet?” Amy barreled into the kitchen.

Ryan tickled Amy. “Where are you off to?”

She giggled. “We’re going to the Morgan’s down the road to play. If Gran will ever finish.”

“Gran will finish
you
if you keep talking like that,” Lisa admonished. “You want to come along, Ryan? Greg and Kathy are up with the kids. Kids can play and we can have a nice grown-up lunch. Dad and Tony—”

“Are right here,” Tony replied as he pushed open the front door. “We’ve worked up an appetite. Jack’s waiting in the truck, so we’d better get moving, babe.”

Ryan craned his neck to see beyond Tony into the mudroom. His heart was in his throat. “Where’s Cary?”

“Still out in the hut. He’s really taken to ice fishing.”

“You should take him some sandwiches for lunch.” Maureen washed her hands and wiped them on her apron. “He seems a little out of sorts today.” She raised an eyebrow. “As do you.”

Ryan busied himself with opening the fridge and poking around. “Huh? We’re fine.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Shrugging, he took a swig of juice from the container. “We’re fine, Mom.”

She sighed as she left the kitchen. “There’s leftover turkey on the top shelf, and that sourdough bread you like is on the counter. And use a glass!”

Ryan concentrated on making sandwiches as the rest of the family got ready to go in a flurry of activity. Once the door shut behind them, he took a deep breath.
Okay. I can do this. Maybe it won’t be so bad if we talk.

The walk out to the fishing hut felt like it took a hundred years. The cloud cover that had brought a fresh foot of snow on Christmas had dissipated, and the sun was bright overhead. The wind whistled, and Ryan realized he’d neglected to bring his gloves. He clutched the lunch bag tightly with numb fingers, his stomach churning.

When he pushed open the door to the hut, his breath caught in his throat. In the lantern light, Cary was beautiful, his hair golden and cheeks ruddy, his lips a deep red. He met Ryan’s gaze.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Ryan closed the door behind him. It was fairly warm inside, but the fire was getting low. “I brought lunch. Thought you might be hungry.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

It was unbearably awkward, and Ryan handed Cary the bag and busied himself stoking the fire. Once he was finished, Ryan hovered by the fishing hole. “I can…if you want to be alone…”

“No, I should go. It’s your…hut.” He reeled in his line.

“I don’t even like fishing. It’s cool, you should stay.”

“I need to call the airline anyway.”

“Oh. You haven’t done that yet?” Hope flickered to life.

Cary zipped up his parka. “Sorry. Your dad wanted me to come fishing. But I’ll call now. I should go back to Toronto either way. I’m sure I can get a room by the airport even if I can’t fly out for a couple of days. I’ve already imposed too much.”

Ryan inhaled sharply. “Would you stop with the martyr routine already?”

“Whatever. Clearly you want me to leave.”

“That’s not what I said! Would you just—”

But Cary was gone, the hut door slamming in his wake. Blowing out a long breath, Ryan rolled his shoulders. They were both lashing out, and he wasn’t even sure why. He slowly counted to ten silently and then followed Cary outside.