Page 19 of Blue Skies
Holden thanked the man, then turned back toward Greg, contemplating the fact that he now had some free time on his hands.Maybe…
The buzz of an incoming text distracted Holden from thoughts about Greg and Aspen. He glanced at his phone to see a message from Brody telling him he was heading to the airport and getting out of Denver on the first available flight back home to Houston. Holden tried not to notice the extra spring in his step as he walked up to Greg.
“My meeting’s been canceled,” he said. “And my coworker’s leaving as soon as he can catch a flight out.”
“Do you need to head back to the hotel?”
Holden shook his head. “We’re going to lunch.”
Greg merely nodded and remained subdued for the ride to the warehouse. They’d just about arrived when Greg’s phone buzzed with a message. He took the phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and smiled as he typed in a response. A return message buzzed almost immediately, and Greg chuckled. He glanced at Holden, then concentrated on his phone. A couple of exchanges later, Greg tucked his phone away as they arrived at the warehouse.
The interior was full with the lunchtime crowd and about a dozen different establishments. Seating consisted of rows of picnic benches in the center of the space, while the restaurants were arranged on the perimeter. Each eatery consisted mainly of a counter and display with a kitchen behind them, though a few places were a bit more elaborate with half-walls delineating their space from their neighbor’s. There were a couple of small stands that Greg told him were pop-ups that changed month to month to give new chefs exposure. True to Greg’s promise, the variety of cuisines gave Holden more choices than he could possibly sample.
They split up, put in their orders, and found a table on the edge of the crowded space. It wasn’t until Holden was halfway through with his meal that he realized Greg was still somewhat subdued and withdrawn. Maybe his thought that this was a perfect date had been premature. He nudged Greg’s foot with his own under the table and, when Greg looked up, asked him if he was okay.
Greg nodded and shrugged, then asked something that caught Holden by surprise.
“Why didn’t you want to have breakfast with your coworker this morning?”
Holden was mid-bite, so he held up a finger while he finished chewing. He’d opted for a delicious bratwurst and spaetzle platter that was served with spicy pickles and sauerkraut, while Greg had gone with pho from the Vietnamese place and Thai wings from its neighbor.
The momentary pause gave him time to think and assess why Greg was asking. The question had been asked without rancor or suspicion, but Holden could tell something deeper underlay Greg’s curiosity.
“Well, first,” he said, “you need to know that Brody’s an ass. He’s your quintessential arrogant flyboy who thinks he’s God’s gift to aviation and women. He’s also racist, sexist, and homophobic and doesn’t give a shit who hears him when he gets on a tear about what he thinks of anyone who isn’t cis, het, white, or bleeds red, white, and blue. Believe me, if it was up to me, I’d never work with him again, but I don’t have a say in it. Unfortunately, he was a damn good pilot and an excellent flight instructor. It was no sacrifice on my part to have breakfast with you instead. The company was much more to my liking. I’ve enjoyed myself and hope you have too.”
Greg nodded. He picked up a wing, and Holden was distracted watching him strip the meat from the bones with his teeth and then lick his fingers to get all of the sauce off them. When Greg noticed him watching, he blushed but made a show of cleaning his remaining digits, a sight that got Holden’s cock quite interested. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“And what’s second?” Greg asked as he used a napkin to wipe off his hands.
“What’s second what?”
“You said first, so I assume there’s a second reason.”
It was Holden’s turn to nod, and he took a sip of the excellent Belgian lager he’d gotten to go with his brat, steeling himself to answer Greg’s question truthfully. It was a risk. There were some guys who got angry at Holden for staying closeted, especially younger guys like Greg who’d grown up with a lot more freedom to be out than he had. Even younger guys who’d been in the military didn’t always understand the choices Holden had made, which was why he stuck to hookups. He didn’t have to explain himself to someone he wasn’t going to see again.
“There is a second,” Holden admitted. “And you have to understand, I served while DADT was still in effect. Even after the rules changed, it was still part of the culture, especially with the pilots in my unit. Believe me, Brody is mild compared to some of the people I served with, so keeping my sexuality a secret was safer. Part of the reason I retired when I did was because I was up for promotion to commander. Everyone thought I was a shoo-in because I’d been part of the team testing the F-35 before it went into active service, and that was next-gen military. You didn’t work on that bird if they didn’t think you’d be around for a while. But then rumors started, and my CO pulled me into his office. He couldn’t out-and-out ask me if I was gay, but I could read between the lines. I resigned my commission when my contract was up and went to work for a DOD contractor.”
Holden took another drink of lager, ready for the question he knew was coming, and sure enough, Greg asked it.
“But you’re still not out?”
With a shake of his head, Holden grimaced. “It’s still safer.” He leaned forward, which caused Greg to do the same, the table between them narrow enough their foreheads almost touched. “Federal contractors aren’t held to the same anti-discrimination laws that protect employees in other businesses. It’s not so bad with the current administration, but five years ago—” he shook his head “—there were no protections. I could have been fired without cause if someone like Brody suspected I’m gay and complained to HR that I’d looked at him wrong. It’s not worth coming out if I’m going to put my job at risk with the next election.”
Holden sat back and took another swallow of his lager. He couldn’t look at Greg, didn’t want to see the pity or anger or any other emotion on his face. If he thought it wouldn’t make him look like a coward, he would have hightailed it to the restroom. Instead, he stayed put, holding his breath for Greg’s answer and aware that for the first time in a long time, it mattered to him what someone else thought of his situation. Even if he wasn’t sure there was something between him and Greg besides one person helping another out, he knew he didn’t want the man to be a one-and-done.
As the silence stretched between them, Holden finally risked a glance at Greg only to find him staring into the distance, his expression thoughtful. As Holden watched him, Greg’s gaze became focused again, and he turned his head, making eye contact without flinching.
“That must be difficult,” Greg said slowly, “to have something you can’t share with the people you’re closest to.”
“It is what it is, and you do what you have to do.” Holden shrugged. “I can’t say I’m particularly close to any of my coworkers. Not like you are with yours.”
The subtle redirect made Greg smile, but his gaze had shifted to the distance again. “Those guys are the best.” It was all he said, but Holden could tell the statement held more weight than the words implied. There was a history behind it, a shared connection and commitment with each other.
“That must be nice.”
Greg nodded. “They’ve helped me through some rough times.”
Again, Holden could tell there was more behind the words than Greg was saying, but he left it alone and didn’t pry because he felt Greg’s guard going up. He hoped they could get to the point where Greg would share the reason with him, but he wasn’t going to push him into saying more than he was comfortable with. Trust was earned, not demanded.
