Page 79 of Just Say Christmas
Now, Kors, the young kid who was attached to Marko’s cousin Ella, was working the barbecue with his sleeves rolled up, Ella was helping him, and there was some food coming out and being set on a table that could barely hold it. Looked like enough to feed fifty, or possibly a rugby squad.
“Lamb, crayfish, and snapper,” Luke’s dad said, coming up to join him as Luke tried not to tense. “Pretty good feed.”
“I was just thinking that,” Luke said. “Nyree’s done well. Marko, too. Rising to the circumstances, eh.” That was probably tossed down there. Call it a gauntlet.
“We’ll see,” Grant muttered. Saved from more, maybe, by Miriama turning up at his elbow. Was Nyree meant to be bad for Marko, Luke wondered, or Marko bad for Nyree? It seemed to be a toss-up. Personally, he thought they suited.
Miriama said, “Such a beautiful ceremony. Nyree was so lovely. Shining. You see, darling?” she told Grant. “She reallyhasdone well, in the end.”
“It’s not the end yet,” Grant said, which was about what you’d expect. “You don’t have a beer,” he told Luke. He was holding a bottle, and had probably had three more on board by now, though alcohol never showed on Grant. His size, or, some said, the lack of warm blood in his veins.
Luke said, “Nah,” and lifted his glass of water, which was never going to look like anything but a glass of water. “I’m sorted.”
Grant frowned, or maybe you’d say that his bushy gray eyebrows drew even closer together than they normally were. They slanted down his face in a perpetual V-shape, putting the exclamation point on his habitual expression. “You’re staying here tonight, surely,” he said. “No need to cut off the drink for that. I got the tents sorted around the side. Enough for everybody, they said. Who are you bunking in with?”
Luke wished he did have a beer, and was glad he didn’t. This was a test, he guessed. Another first to get through without alcohol. He said, “Hayden Allen. The celebrant.”
Kane had materialized from somewhere to stand beside him, and so had Rhys, though he was keeping back, a bit out of frame. Drago had always looked like he was watching from the coaching box even when he was playing. Judging, you could call it, or measuring, bringing his calm and his focus with him. He looked that way now.
Had they been hovering in the background, waiting for this? Luke hoped not. This day was meant to be Nyree’s.
He caught sight of Hayden, then, talking to Marko and Nyree, saying something that made Nyree laugh out loud. He glanced up, caught Luke’s eye, and stood hesitating. Questioning. Luke jerked his chin at him.Come on. Time to do this.
He’d been an All Black. Briefly. He’d stood on the field and done the haka, laying down the challenge to his opponents, affirming his bond to his brothers. For a decade more, he’d played for England, the land of his mother’s birth, and had faced that challenge. Everybody had a different approach to the most fearsome intro in rugby. Some smiled, a dickhead move that tended to backfire. Some glared. Luke, though, had stood with his arms over the shoulders of his teammates and let the challenge sink into him. Outwardly impassive, but absorbing his opponent’s energy, letting it fuel his own rush of adrenaline, ready to turn it back on him once the whistle blew.
The whistle had blown.
Hayden headed over, approaching from behind Grant even as he said, “Not a good idea. Fella’s a . . .” He glanced at Miriama. ”He’s queer as a three-dollar note.”
“True,” Hayden said with his disarming smile, slipping around Grant’s back, plucking Luke’s water glass from his hand, and taking a long drink. “Probably why I’m such a good dresser.” He handed the glass back to Luke and said, “Thanks. I was parched. Good job on the ceremony, didn’t you think?”
Bravado, you could call it. Luke called it what it was. Courage. He said, “Yeh. It was. I was proud.” And told his dad, “Maybe because I’m queer as a three-dollar note myself. Although not as good a dresser.”
* * *
HAYDEN
He couldn’t believe Luke had said it. He’d known he wasplanningto say it, but planning wasn’t doing. Except that Luke didn’t seem to have any space between the two. He did what he said he would, and he delivered what he promised. There were no twists in his mind, or in his heart.
Could you know that about somebody this soon? He didn’t think so, but he believed it all the same. It wasn’t just sex, although the sex was . . . absolutely thrilling. Only word for it. He could go weak in the knees from Luke looking at him from across a room. Like he just had.
Intensity. It was a thing. Urgency. Desire.
Tenderness.
He’d fallen so hard.
He had time to think that, because a few seconds passed after Luke put it out there. His stepmother stood there, her hand rising to hover somewhere between her heart and her half-open mouth, her eyes darting to her husband. Not just shock. Horror. As for Grant . . . he just stood there. Taller than Luke. Nearly as tall as Kane. Who was, Hayden realized, standing even closer now. Possibly like they were packing down in the scrum together, Kane preparing to put his engine to work to hold his brother upright.
That was a good one. He needed to share that with Nyree later. He was thinkingthatbecause he was keyed up.
Grant said, finally, “Pardon?” Hayden could tell that he’d thought Luke would talk first. Would explain. Would apologize.
Hayden was suddenly, fiercely, furious. Why did you have kids at all if you weren’t going to love them more than this? If they had to go halfway across the world to escape you, and felt like they could never come home?
“I’m gay, Dad,” Luke said.
“But you’re so . . .tall,”his stepmother said. “And so . . .”
