It’s time for Tuesday Tales!
Today we have another snippet from “The Christmas Oaks” my holiday MM romance WIP.
Our word prompt today is “Road” and in this excerpt Bryn and Parson are heading to town and the discussion takes a very serious turn.
This story may have gay erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by!
“I’m going to suggest that the rental company put studded tires on their cars,” I announced as we crept around a sharp curve that ran past the Dewey farm, the barn situated right on the corner, and a huge, frozen pond to the left. Big black angus steers stood in the yard around a round hay bale feeder, exhalations huge clouds of steam that made the cattle look godly and intimidating.
“My father always insisted on them,” Parson replied and toyed with the radio until he found the local Christian station. They played holiday music twenty-four seven from December first to January 2nd. Jim loved listening to the old carols, and when it wasn’t Christmas he tuned in every Sunday. Never went to church bodily but listened to the brimstone and hellfire speeches religiously. When asked why he didn’t attend church when I was ten or so, he’d replied that he disliked the pastor who had been, brace yourself, a woman.
I shook off Jim and refocused on the road and my passenger. “How are your folks? You want to stop round and visit them?”
“They moved to Myrtle Beach before I enlisted. Mom’s got that psoriatic arthritis and the cold weather was too painful for her. They’re good. Ask me to move down with them every time we talk.”
“Maybe you should,” I said, slowing down to a crawl to creep over an icy patch of road that ran for about a mile or so. Shady parts of the road were notoriously bad in the winter. “Be with people that care about you. Maybe take up surfing. I spent a weekend at Myrtle Beach once with a client. It’s gorgeous. This cold weather sucks a hairy nuts. I can’t wait to get back to Nashville.”
He was silent for a few seconds. “Yeah, I just…” He faded off a bit. I gave him a quick glance. He looked far away. “They don’t get it. Me, the…my head.” He tapped his brow then fell quiet. “They think I need to talk to someone.”
“That wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?” I dared. He sighed and shook his head. “Someone who would understand. A fellow vet.”
“I talked to Jim. He died.” Yeah. Yeah he had. No getting around that. “I talked to you. You’re leaving.” Well fuck.
“I have a life down south. This whole trip was only supposed to be a few days. The cabin was an unwanted burden that Jim dropped on my head.” I gripped the wheel tightly, forcing myself to stay focused on the road. Fucking icy, snowy dirt roads.
He sounded gutted. I eased back on the gas, feeling the rear wheels slipping a bit. “Parson, it’s not…you’re not a burden. It was just—”
And that ended that discussion like a boot to the teeth. It kind of felt like someone had kicked me in the chops. Was that blood I tasted? No, just self-recrimination. Tasted worse than blood.
Copyright 2019 ©by V.L. Locey
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