Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 49178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
“Babe, I have to get ready for today.”
“I know,” I said, kissing the tip of his hard dick before moving back up to kiss his lips. “Go shower and get ready.”
“You have to get ready too, sir. Don’t you have to clock in soon?”
I grinned.
Today was the day. Benny had his big race. A race I had poked and prodded him into registering for. He’d been hesitant about it, but I knew that it was something he really wanted to do. He was just letting his fear and anxiety dictate his decisions.
Today was also another very important day: my first day on the job as Rainbow Ranch’s marketing and PR manager.
It had been a lightbulb moment. We were all sitting around the dining room table, finishing up an incredible meal cooked by none other than Benny himself, when Beau brought up the idea. It was almost a side thought. Something that would have gotten carried away with the flow of conversation.
“I wish more people knew about the ranch.”
That one single sentence filled me with a sudden burst of purpose.
So there I was, about an hour later—showered, dressed, and sipping coffee—typing up a welcome post for the new Rainbow Ranch Instagram feed. I was using all my PR tricks, but this time, it wasn’t to save someone’s image or launch a scandal diversion campaign. Now it was real and honest.
It was worthwhile.
Still, before we left for the race, I found myself pacing the side porch, phone in hand. My thumb hovered over my mom’s name.
There was something else I had to do today. I’d been thinking about it for weeks now and I couldn’t keep putting this off. Not with how quickly things were moving with Benny and me.
Well, quickly only if you don’t count the years and years it took us to get to this point.
I thought back to when my mom and I spoke about her friend’s gay son, she’d rattled me. Bad. I’d taken her words—Thank goodness Sam never gave us any of that kind of stress—and twisted them into a rope that had wrapped tight around my chest, making it difficult to take a full breath.
But now I had clarity. And, most importantly, I had Benny. With him by my side I felt like I could do anything.
Even coming out to my mom.
I pressed the call button.
She picked up on the second ring. “Sammy!”
“Hey, Mom. You busy?”
“Nope, just cutting up some veggies for the garden club lunch. What’s going on?”
My mouth dried. I swallowed. Had to rip it off like a Band-Aid. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“You’re okay, right?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. I just… I need to tell you something. And I want you to hear me all the way through, okay?”
Her silence felt like a small inhale. “Of course, honey.”
I sat down on the porch steps, heart thudding. “I’m bi, Mom. I’m with—I’m in love with—someone and you know them. I’m with Benny, mom. He’s… everything. He always has been. Being back at the ranch with him, it opened my eyes. I’ve accepted myself and my feelings for him… And I’ve been scared to tell you, because I didn’t want to disappoint you. But I can’t live like that anymore. I don’t want to.”
A pause. And then:
“Oh, Sammy.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “I even said when we talked on the phone, and I said to your father after, ‘I wouldn’t care if Sam was gay, of course. I’d just want him to tell me.’”
“You did?” I replayed that phone call back in my head. The line had cut when she was speaking.
“Yes, hun. I was just speaking more along the lines of the fact that you never gave us any trouble. You were great in school, worked hard at your job, had good friends. That’s what I was saying. I do hate how being gay was an obstacle for that boy at church. And… it’s made me really think a lot about my relationship with the church, if I’m being honest. I still have some searching to do, but please, Sammy, know this: I would never reject you. Never judge you. I will always love you. You are my son, my heart, my love. You will always be my son. And I will fight anyone who gives you any trouble.”
I didn’t realize I was crying until I wiped a tear from my jaw.
“Thank you,” I said, voice small but steady. “That means everything to me, Mom. Also please don’t fight anyone.”
“You know me and your dad have been doing Pilates together. I’m in fighting shape!”
That got a chuckle out of me. “Still, no fighting. Let whatever bigots and hateful trolls say what they want. I’ve already got all the support, validation, and love I need.”
“And you’ll always have it. Don’t be nervous about your father, either. When I spoke to him that last time, he even said he’d be proud to have a gay—or bi—son. And you know he is nowhere near as involved with the church as me.”