Free Smoky Mountain Dreams by Leta Blake Page B

asked, and Jesse had a hard time pulling his mind back to the
conversation and away from where he wanted the night to end.
    “It was less about me being queer and more about what people
thought about me being queer. For a long time, he thought I was just rebelling
so I could humiliate him. A ‘poor little rich kid’ scheme to get attention or
something.”
    Jesse braced for the question, tempted to deflect it quickly
by asking Christopher about his family’s response to
his coming out—if he was out. But he decided not to, because it was easier to
know now just how big of a problem it was going to be.
    “Poor little rich kid? Your father had money, I take it? And
he thought you were…what? Sexually attracted to men to embarrass him? I don’t
really get it.”
    “Me either, but as the founder of Birch’s Biscuits &
Bakeries, my dad felt like having a queer in the family didn’t meet the wholesome,
down-home image he wanted to cultivate as part of his marketing scheme. He
might have been onto something, because I wasn’t exactly quiet about my love of
dick during my teenage years.”
    Jesse popped the last piece of gingerbread man into his
mouth, remembering the way he’d challenged his dad in so many ways. Streaks of
white in his hair that he’d then dyed vibrant pink, declaring to all who would
listen how much he wanted to screw cute guys, and—unlike many men who were
naturally fey—he’d purposely put a sashay into his walk and a flap to his
wrist, both of which he’d retired as he’d grown more secure in his sexual
identity. “Hell, I’ll admit it. I purposely pushed some buttons. Given where we
live, I’m lucky I didn’t get physically hurt for my bullshit.”
    “Wait, I mean, I want to come back to this, but your father
owns…really? The great usurper to crowns that once belonged to White Lily and
Bisquick? Your father is the baking mix king of the world?”
    Jesse sang the commercial. “‘We’ve got cakes and cookies,
muffins and bread, just tear open a package and see the smiles spread! Birch’s
Biscuits & Bakeries—we’re not just biscuits anymore!’”
    “Wow.”
    “Yeah.” Jesse tried to gauge Christopher’s reaction. “I
wouldn’t call him a king, though. More like a baron. Or a duke. Or a mogul.
Yes, let’s go with a mogul. A biscuit mogul. It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t
true.”
    “Poor little rich kid. You weren’t kidding. About the rich
part, I mean. Not the poor part. I wouldn’t know about that. I mean, I know
about being poor, but not about you being pitiful. Wow. I’m totally babbling. I
sound like an idiot.”
    Jesse chuckled. “I’m used to it. I try to keep from
startling people too much with the reveal. Hey, surprise! I’m filthy rich! Hope
you still like me!”
    Christopher laughed. “Do people really stop liking you
because of that?”
    “You’d be surprised.”
    “Well, people are surprising.
That’s one thing you can count on them to be.” Christopher grew quiet and
seemed to be thinking something over. “When Darla said you give enough money to
the park…”
    “She meant my family.”
    “The Birch Family Bald Eagle Sanctuary at Smoky Mountain
Dreams.”
    Jesse nodded.
    “I guess I should’ve figured you were at least related, but
it never crossed my mind.”
    “Why should it? I’m glad it didn’t.”
    Christopher ate more of his cookie. “So you don’t work for
your father, and neither does your sister. I take it the family business gene
didn’t get passed down to the two of you?”
    “My sister married the son of my father’s CFO. He a nice
guy. Paul Newton. Heard of him? No? Well, because of that she’s still in pretty
deep. I wanted nothing to do with it, and my father was fine with my choice. I
caused him enough grief over the years that he’s mainly just happy if I stay
out of it all.”
    “Because of how you came out?”
    “Because of who I am,” Jesse said, remembering the fights,
the recriminations, the endless sense