1 Chapter 1

Laurie Parkinson hated his name. It was so…well, effeminate was the least offensive way to put it. His mom had been a huge fan of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, and when she’d been expecting him, she’d been so certain he was going to be a girl she hadn’t even bothered choosing a boy’s name. After Laurie arrived, she’d declared she wasn’t going to let the fact he was a boy interfere with her plans. He’d overheard her tell the story more than once, so he knew.

As a result, having a name like that had made Laurie’s life a living hell—none of the kids were aware that Laurie in Little Womenwas a boy—and he’d been teased and bullied from kindergarten up until he’d graduated from high school, because even after they’d seen the movie—none of those ignoramuses would dream of reading the book—the pattern had been more or less set in stone. Not that Mom seemed to notice the black eyes and cut lips he’d come home with. Her next four kids had been the girls she’d wanted, and she’d named them Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. They were the ones who got all the attention, and he was lucky he was the first born and hadn’t come along later, because otherwise he’d have wound up wearing his sisters’ hand-me-downs. That would have been even worse than being named Laurie, because frankly, he just didn’t have the legs for dresses.

On top of that, he liked guys, and…he really didn’t want to. The “jokes” at work hadn’t been funny, and the remarks were downright cruel. And if his family ever found out about it—well, he couldn’t say for certain Mom and Pop would disown him, but that wasn’t something he was willing to take a chance on. Even after he’d moved to an apartment across town, he’d been cautious to the point of paranoia about it.

That was one of the reasons why Lync Ryland had broken up with him. Lync had understood when they’d first started seeing each other. He’d meet Laurie in a motel two towns over, but they’d never have dinner or drinks or go dancing. Finally Laurie had agreed to go to Lync’s apartment, but he’d been a wreck the entire evening, expecting Pop or one of his uncles to come banging on the door and demanding to know what the fuck he thought he was doing, as dumb as that was. In the end, Lync had walked away from him. “I’m not staying in the closet for anyone, Laurie, not even you.”

It was a shame, because the tall, green-eyed blond had an amazing cock and fucked him like nobody’s business, but Laurie had seen what happened to all the gay boys in school, and even the boys who weren’t gay but just looked like they might be, and Laurie had no intention of getting bashed as well as teased or bullied.

So instead of becoming a hairdresser, like he would have wanted—and okay, he knew it was a stereotype, but he’d been terrific at styling his sisters’ hair and even his mom’s friends had come to him for a cut and perm—he’d become a tin knocker, just like Pop, Grandpop, and his uncles Dave, Mitch, and Nick. They were excellent craftsmen. Laurie not so much. He’d overheard them once, saying he couldn’t carry their tool belts. He accepted that, as much as it hurt. He did a fairly decent job installing sheet metal, but only fairly decent. And he really hated that he wasn’t better than that.

* * * *

Laurie got home from work late. Adam James, IV was bringing in a new business for the Laurel Hill Mall, and Laurie’s shop had been working on the ductwork for the building. He tossed his clothes in the general direction of the hamper, and got into the shower. It was Wednesday, and that meant dinner with the family. Of course it also meant Pop getting on his case about work and Mom nagging him about finding a nice girl. But that was family.

He hurried through his shower, dressed in a pair of skinny chinos and a long-sleeved blue Henley—Mom expected him to dress nicely—and stepped into a pair of loafers.

He’d made a Watergate salad the night before, and he was bringing that for dessert. Something else Mom expected: if you came to visit you didn’t show up empty-handed, even if it was just beer for Pop and soda for him and the sibs—he never drank when he came for dinner, because it would be just his luck to get stopped for a DUI. But this week, Mom had asked him to make the sweet salad; it was her favorite, and it was easy, only needing instant pistachio pudding, crushed pineapple, mini marshmallows, and Cool Whip. He liked it a lot himself.