“You didn’t have to buy a cake. I know you don’t bake them.” He covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze before grabbing one of the small dishes.
She glanced over to Bull and he subtly shook his head. They watched as their father ate his first bite. “This is delicious,” he said, scooping another forkful into his mouth. She glanced back at Bull and waited for his nod.
“Ben made it. He bakes cakes, cupcakes, and a bunch of other treats we’ve added to the menu at the shop. We’ve been really busy.” She beamed at Ben.
His father quieted. “How long have you two been working together?”
“About five months now.”
His father nodded. He glanced over to Bull. “And how long have you two been…together?”
Another squeeze to his thigh silenced him.
“We’ve been friends just as long. Together, as a couple, for four months,” Ben signed, before Bull had a chance to respond. Two points for Ben underscoring together with a slower hand gesture, then doubling down by using more signing space with his movements to emphasize they were a couple.
It was a visual standoff. Ben standing his ground while Frank tried to figure out what lay behind Ben’s gaze. Good luck with that. It took me a whole hell of a lot of time to figure him out.
A chill trickled down Bull’s spine when his father turned to him. The warning flags in his mind whipped and snapped as if they were in the midst of a Category 5 hurricane.
“So you’re gay?”
Bull’s jaw clenched. The vein at his temple pulsed. He wasn’t doing this. Again. “Dad…” His body heaved with a deep breath. He needed to rein in his temper or he was going to lose control.
His father looked to Ben. “He’s confused.”
“Stop it!” Bull yelled.
Nat reached out and placed her hand on their father’s forearm. “Dad, don’t—”
“But it’s the truth,” he said, cutting off Nat. “And we speak the truth here. That was the house rule set by your mother. And we don’t break that sacred rule.”
Bull scoffed and shook his head. “Bullshit.”
“Don’t you dare disrespect your mother’s memory!”
Bull threw his head back and stared at the heavens, begging for his mom to send him a heavenly care package with a boatload of her never-ending patience. He shook his head, resigned. “I knew this was a mistake.”
“You said you weren’t gay.”
Gritting his teeth, he leveled his tone, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “I’m bisexual. That’s my truth. And you can’t accept that.”
His father shook his head as he frowned. “No, you’re confused. You’ve changed your mind before.”
“This isn’t a choice, Dad.”
“You played baseball, then switched to football.”
Bull’s leg bounced, channeling the energy zipping through his body. “T-ball, Dad. I was five. I moved on to football in junior high.” He blew out a steadying breath. A trip down memory lane never ended well.
“You gave up baseball after that. As if it meant nothing to you.”
“I was the first freshman at the high school to ever make the varsity football team. It was an honor and I didn’t want them regretting their decision. I played first string and we won the championship for the first time that year and for the next three years while I played.”
“You joined the service, then left.”
“I did more tours than you did.” It was a jab, but he was struggling to keep his shit together.
“Now you’ve decided to stay home. To not do bodyguard work anymore.”
“My job has always been security assessments. The bodyguard work started as favors to a few clients who trusted me. It was never something I truly wanted to do.”
“So they don’t trust you anymore? Or did you just abandon them too?”
“For fuck’s sake!” He slammed his fist on the table. He hated that damn word. Especially knowing how deep it cut into Ben’s wounds.
“Watch your language!”
“You’ve always complained! I was never home. I worked too much. I never thought of my future. I can go on and on. But I guess that was just more bullshit too. I grew up and no longer fit into your precious little box with your strict rules and your ridiculous expectations. You expect me to have a nine-to-five job, a wife, and at least two kids. What’s easier for you… Dad? Stay away? Put my life on the line for someone or a higher purpose? Would that finally make me an honorable man and a better son in your eyes? Would dying