Page 87 of His Stepdad Wears Leather

“There’s a few strands of silver in there, I suppose—but it’s mostly dark.”

“How old is he?”

“I don’t know exactly. I never asked. Younger than my mom, but not by much, I don’t believe. Nearing forty, maybe?”

“And you’re what? Twenty-twoish?”

“I’m eighteen,” Noah replied.

“Well hell,” Jereme said. “You’re just a baby.” A smile grew on his lips. “I wasn’t much older than you when Anson and I got together. I was nearly twenty.”

“How old was he?”

“Thirty-six.”

“So the gap’s about the same,” Noah said, smiling. His smile faded. “Though, we’re not together anymore, so, it really doesn’t matter now.”

“But you want to be together with him?” Jereme asked.

“Yeah… but there’s… complications. It’s not all about the age.”

“Complications,” Jereme rolled his eyes. “Do I understand complications.” He grinned. “But honestly—I think the best relationships come out of those complications. If you can overcome all the barriers to happiness, then there’s nothing you can’t have together. But that’s only my opinion.”

A knock came to the door, and Geena rushed to open it. “Red! Harry! Hey love-bugs!”

Those two familiar names caught Noah’s attention. He remembered Brody bringing them up at the courthouse. He noted the two men entering the house and smiled. Geena introduced the pair to him before leading them on to say hello to his mother.

After that, his mother sent Parker upstairs with a plate and announced that dinner was ready for everyone else. The dining table was crammed with men—no women besides his mother and Geena—which he found slightly odd. Once everyone had passed the dishes and filled their plates, they dug in. The conversation was brisk and fast paced. Noah tried to keep up, but it was hard when the men all seemed to know each other very well. Once everyone was nearly done eating, his mother rose at the head of the table.

“You’ll notice this isn’t our usual mixed company for one of our dinner parties. While I love you all dearly and have had you all at this table before, tonight you were invited for a specific reason,” his mother announced. “All of you have been in long-term relationships with an age gap. I find myself in a situation where I need to understand how you made it work.”

Jereme glanced Noah’s way and raised a perceptive brow—then winked.

All of the rest of the men eyed one another, no one appearing to realize how to respond. Noah wanted to melt into the scenery and be anywhere but that room. His mother sat, her expression hopeful.

“How does anyone make a relationship work?” Jereme finally asked. “You know as well as we do, Stacey. You’ve put the effort in with Geena all these years. It’s no different than that.”

Some of the men continued to eat, all nodding in agreement with Jereme.

“But isn’t there a—I don’t know—a disconnect somewhere?” His mother asked. “You’re of different generations. Different mindsets. There had to be obstacles that wouldn’t have been there in a relationship with someone your own age.”

“Mental maturity varies. Someone your age might not be at the same level you are,” Harry answered. “I’d been through a lot in my youth. People my age were interested in frivolous things that I wasn’t. I couldn’t connect to guys my age. Of course, there was the stability and security I was also seeking—something I’d never had as a kid. Red offered those to me. He was my confidant. My friend. A sane voice. He had experience that he shared with me, teaching me.Andhe was smoking hot, to boot. I’d always had daddy issues.” He turned to Red, a smile on his face.

“Wassmoking hot?” Red asked, lifting a puffy, gray brow.

“You’re still smoking hot, daddy.” He smiled and eyed Noah’s mother. “Thirty years later and I’m still his boy. I’ll be his boy forever. Can I tell you how we made it this far? Not exactly. It wasn’t an easy path. No one’s is. But we managed it.”

“My story is about the same as Harry’s,” Eric said. “I was young. Needed a strong hand. Someone to keep me on the not-so-straight and narrow. We’ve been together for nearly two decades now, longer than I was old when I met James.” He smiled. “There’s no one thing that kept us together—and certainly, there have been things that came up where we thought differently due to our age difference. But we were open and honest. We talked it through. And we came to an understanding, if not agreement.” The man glanced at Noah. “I think every young man needs a daddy in his life at some point, even if it doesn’t last.” He turned to Stacey. “I’m curious. Why all the questions. Someone in your life has met a much older man? And let me guess—you don’t approve?”

“I guess it’s different when it’s someone you love and worry about,” his mother said, eyeing him. “Plus there are complications. It’s not just the age-gap.”

“Complications are a bitch,” Jereme said. “Most of them are social constructs. Things we assume society expects of us, regardless if they’re right for us or not.”

“Explain?” His mother asked, lifting her wine glass.

Jereme sighed. “Anson met me when I was younger… before I turned eighteen. I mean, we weren’t close. Not at all. We barely knew one another. He and my mother…knewone another. Because of that, there was this… taboo that we were together. We didn’t start our relationship until I was nineteen. We were both consenting adults at that point. But there was this…stigmasurrounding it. Society dictated that there was some moral gray area we were in, so it must be wrong. We sensed it was right. We had this intense, intimate bond. Why should I live my life without him because other people consider what we share is wrong?”

“So how did you get past that?” Geena asked.

---