Page 214 of The Texas Sterling Collection
Rod roared with laughter. “Stop! Okay! Uncle!”
The assault ended, and Wyl gazed at his husband. “Babe, we have a rough road ahead of us. But we’re in this together and will get through it somehow.”
Rod pulled his husband into a warm embrace. “How did I go from college professor at a small rural community college to an International government agent?”
Wyl chuckled. “You married me.”
“Hmmm…I don’t recall the part of the marriage vows that mentioned anything about the Pentagon, top government officials, working with foreign governments, or dealing with cybercriminals. Maybe I skipped the fine print.” Rod stroked Wyl’s cheek, looking into his clear, green eyes.
“Oh? Didn’t I mention all that stuff?” Wyl chided. “My bad.” He pulled Rod into a passionate kiss.
The kiss broke. “Oh yeah…that is why I didn’t remember that detail. You distracted me with a kiss,” Rod said.
“After you made me gay, what else should I do?” Wyl chuckled again.
“I have my ways.” Rod gave Wyl a quick kiss. “Let’s go to James and Glenn’s.”
* * *
Glenn answered the door. “Hey, gents. Welcome to our world.” He stepped back and motioned for them to enter. “James is in the kitchen. Come on in and chat while we finish brunch preparations.”
They followed him into the small kitchen, where the aroma of sautéed onion filled the air as James worked on the omelets.
“Morning, Americans.” James inverted a small bowl of diced ham into the sizzling skillet. Steam rose as the hiss of frying meat filled the kitchen.
Glenn pulled a tray of toasted Irish soda bread from the broiler and slathered butter on the surface of each slice.
“I hope you two like butter on your toast,” Glenn said.
“Are you kidding me? Rod encourages healthy eating, but we won’t give up real butter. Lay it on thick!” Wyl grinned.
“There is something distinctive about Irish butter,” Rod said. “It has more flavor than what we get in the States.”
“We like it too.” James poured scrambled eggs into a cast-iron skillet and set it in the hot oven. “Baked egg casserole will be done in about 10 minutes. Bloody Mary, anyone?”
“You bet,” Wyl said. “Spicy.”
“Me too,” Rod said.
Glenn got four tumblers. James handed Glenn the ice container from the freezer, then opened the refrigerator to retrieve a celery bunch from the crisper. Ice clinking into glasses and a knife cutting through celery foretold the delicious libations to come.
“You lads have any decent vodka in the States?” Glenn set the ice back into the freezer and took out the ice-cold bottle of Boru.
“Actually, yeah,” Rod said. “This little distillery in Austin makes the best vodka ever. Tito’s. It’s like water with a kick.”
“Vodka from Texas? Stop acting the maggot!” James looked in their direction as he rinsed the celery sticks.
“What?” Rod said. “Some Mexican tequila has a worm in it, but not Texas vodka.”
Glenn and James both laughed. “No, gents. That’s an Irish slang term for kidding around. We thought you were teasing about Texas vodka. Honestly, there is vodka from Texas?”
“Yep,” Wyl used his best Texas drawl. “Our little ol’ state covers around 268,000 square miles. Compare that to Ireland’s 32,000 square miles; our state is eight times bigger than Ireland. We like to say Texas is a whole ‘nother country. We have several award-winning distilleries, at least five of which are in the Austin area.”
James and Glenn both looked at Wyl, mouths open.
Rod looked at the two Brits and laughed. “My grandma Bonner used to say,Close your mouth, boy, you’re letting flies in.”
The four laughed as Glenn said, “Hell, the entire United Kingdom is less than 100,000 square miles, so Texas is more than twice that size.”
