The Shore Thing (States of Love)

by Barley A. R.

  FORGET SHOWING Nico around town. Forget wrapping him up in a fluffy blue blanket and spoon-feeding him pudding until Dale knew he was emotionally capable of facing the day. Forget repeating last night’s kiss.

  Forget the raging erection that had plagued him the night before until he’d finally rubbed one out in the shower.

  Fuck. He let out a soft groan and hightailed it to his bedroom before Nico could wonder about the blood rushing to his cheeks.

  It was supposed to have been a quick soap and rinse to get rid of the day’s grime, but then he’d slid his hand down to palm himself.

  Cinnamon. Nico’s mouth was all cinnamon and flaky puff pastry. What would it feel like drifting across his body? That sharp tongue tasting his skin and those pillowy lips wrapped tight around his heavy cock?

  Dale’s breath came faster.

  His eyes flickered shut.

  Thank God for his new hot water heater. Suds sluiced down his body. Nico’s eyes twinkled up at him. All of his troubles were gone, and it was just the two of them.

  Nothing else mattered.

  His fingers curved tight around his erection. He moved his hand back and forth, slicking and tugging, the motion mimicking that of Nico’s mouth in his mind’s eye. Nico wasn’t tentative or nervous.

  He was confident. Self-assured. He knew what he was doing, and he liked it.

  Fuck. He’d spurted into his hand, groaning loud enough to wake the dead but not loud enough to wake the real Nico sleeping in the other room.

  It was a nice fantasy, even if the odds of it happening in real life were close to nil. Nico might not think he was going home, but he was a summer person. Summer people never stuck around. Dale had known that when he’d invited the man into his house.

  Nico wasn’t from Delaware. He wasn’t going to stay. All he’d ever wanted to do was see the beach.

  Dale ripped open the top drawer to his dresser and riffled through his swimsuits. Most of them were the bright red he wore while working on the beach, but he’d taken a personal day to spend with Nico. He pulled on a pair of teal-and-orange board shorts, then found a pair of plain black trunks for his guest.

  Nico was doing the dishes when Dale got out of the bedroom. “Here.” Dale tossed the trunks at him. “Put those on.” Less than five minutes later they were in his truck, peeling down the long driveway and out onto the main road.

  Then they sat.

  And they waited.

  Saturday traffic in Delaware was a special kind of hell. It was probably okay up near Wilmington, but the rest of the state was gridlocked with the week’s tourists heading into town and the previous crop heading back out. Between checkout and check-in, realtors collected keys in bins in front of their offices, dispatched an army of cleaners, and sorted out new rental packets.

  Eighty minutes later, they finally crawled into the beach parking lot. It was completely full, so Dale parked on the cement walk.

  “You’re not afraid to get a ticket?” Nico asked.

  “Nope.” Dale reached past Nico to yank open the glove box and grabbed a bottle of sunscreen.

  The motion brought them closer together.

  His arm tingled.

  He ignored it.

  Nico was leaving. His brain knew that even if his libido didn’t.

  He slapped on sunscreen while he walked. Every action was smooth and mechanical. It had better be. He’d been doing it almost every day for his entire life. He tugged his T-shirt off over his head as his feet connected with the little boardwalk between the dunes. White liquid spilled across his chest, and he rubbed it in.

  He dabbed some more sunscreen out into his hand and passed the bottle over. “You better slick up.”

  “I don’t really burn.”

  “In Chicago. You don’t really burn in Chicago.” He turned to glare at him and promptly swallowed his own tongue. “Hnngh.”

  Nico was in the process of tugging his shirt up over his head. Every motion brought with it another inch of pretty olive skin. The color was smooth and even, its rich tones set off by the black hair climbing up his chest. His borrowed trunks hung low over narrow hips before flaring over his firm bubble butt. More of that hair feathered out across his thighs.

  Dale coughed to cover the awkward sound. He hunched forward to hide his burgeoning erection. Watching Nico strip down made him feel like a dirty old man—he was going to hell—but he couldn’t drag his gaze away.

  Nico’s dark curls haloed out as he finished taking off the borrowed T-shirt. His nostrils flared. If Dale didn’t know better, he’d think he was smiling.

  Challenge accepted. Dale met his eyes for one long, smoldering moment. He turned up the wattage on his smile and began to massage the rest of the sunscreen into his arms. “Get my back.”

  “Gah.” Nico’s breath was strangled.

  Dale grinned. Nice to know he hadn’t lost his touch.

  Then they crested the top of the dune, and the ocean was spread out in front of them, wet and inviting, foam glittering in the sun like it was coated in diamonds.

  “Damn.” The awe in Nico’s voice was complete and absolute.

  Now that was sexy.

  Whatever competition they’d had going between the two of them was forgotten as they raced helter-skelter toward the waves. Dale couldn’t remember the last time he’d pounded barefoot across the sand, but Nico’s excitement was contagious. He barely paused to flip off the assholes catcalling at him from the lifeguard stand.

  Nico had learned his lesson. This time he stopped short of the surf. His hands bunched up into fists. “I don’t know—”

  “It’s going to be fine. You just have to wait for your moment.”

  “My moment?”

  “The place between the waves when everything lines up right and you can walk straight in.”

  “That’s not a moment. It’s a millisecond.”

  That kind of doubt wasn’t going to fly. Dale reached out and grabbed his hand, tangling their fingers together when Nico tried to pull away. “Breathe,” he said. “You’re a waiter, right? You need to take people’s orders, but you can’t interrupt their conversation? That’s your moment. Everything’s got a moment. The key is not to miss it.”

  A wave broke angrily against the shore.

  That was not their moment.

  They waited another minute and—

  “Here it is.” Dale tugged Nico into the water, refusing to let him pull back when a smaller wave lapped at his knees or slow down when the ocean’s chill hit him. “Your moment.”

  Chapter Five.

  “EVERYTHING’S GOT a moment.” Dale’s words echoed in Nico’s head. “The key is not to miss it.”

  Waves lapped at Nico’s chest. Now that he was safely in the water, the panic that had filled him onshore was gone. Dale had been right. It was nothing like Lake Michigan. Was he right about the moment thing too?

  If he went back to Chicago, he’d be going back to the familiar. His job at Travelli’s might not be waiting for him, but there were dozens of other fine dining establishments in the city. Finding a job might take a while, but it wouldn’t be impossible.

  And then where would he be? Right back where he started. Eventually he might start dating again—a boyfriend this time instead of a girlfriend—but he’d still be in Chicago, shuddering against the winter winds and hiding from the rain.

  A wave lifted him off his feet and threatened to carry him back toward land, but Dale held on to his hand.

  A second wave splashed across his face, pasting his hair down against his head and filling his mouth with salt water. When it was gone, he spat the water out again.

  “Over or under,” Dale advised. “Most waves you bounce over. The big ones you dive under.”

  His voice was so casual. Did he even know he was still holding Nico’s hand? “It’s beautiful,” Nico said. “I can see why you chose to live here.”

  “It wasn’t a choice. I’m from here.”

  “Right.” His teeth dug into
his bottom lip. He didn’t want to be stuck in Chicago, dreaming about all the things he’d never seen or done. If this was his moment, he wanted to grab on tight and never let it go. “But people move here? Is it hard to find a place?”

  “This time of year?” Dale snorted.

  “Oh.” That didn’t sound encouraging. Maybe he should seize the moment in another state.

  “You’re thinking about staying?”

  “I guess not.”

  Slip-splash. Slip-splash. Salt filled the air and sunscreen stung his eyes. It had to be sunscreen. He took a deep breath. A few hundred feet out, there was a sudden movement. “What’s that?”

  “Porpoise. They’re like dolphins. The big waves stir up the fish, so they come in close to shore. Wait long enough and you’ll see some ospreys too.” Dale paused. “You can always stay with me.”

  “I don’t want to get in the way.”

  “Right.” Dale snorted. “Because I’ve got so much going on.”

  His voice was so freaking calm, and underneath the water his hand was still holding Nico’s tight. It wasn’t the full body kiss of the night before, but it was strangely intimate.

  When the next wave came, Nico followed instructions and bounced up onto his tiptoes. Dale managed to sail over the wave with ease. Nico ended up with a face full of salt water. His mouth filled. He sputtered. His body shifted. He rammed into Dale.

  And Dale never let him go.

  Maybe he wasn’t the only one who needed a little reassurance.

  “You can let go,” Nico said. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “And I’m not volunteering. I’m not your parent. I’m not your older brother. I’m not your babysitter—fuck, I get enough of that at work—but I wouldn’t mind the company.”

  Company. Nico could be company. He was a waiter. Being bright and personable was part of the deal, and if—at the end of the night—he ended up laying his head less than ten feet away from the most beautiful man he’d ever seen? His heart thrummed. The water’s chill couldn’t cool the blood in his veins. Fuck.

  Suddenly, running back to Chicago seemed a whole lot simpler.

  Callused fingers scraped against the inside of his wrist. He was running out of time. Dale’s grip was finally beginning to loosen. If he didn’t make a decision soon, his hand would fall away and the moment would be gone.

  “I’m staying.” The raw ache in Nico’s voice scared him. He could taste salt. Was it ocean water or tears? He couldn’t tell. He hoped Dale didn’t notice.

  “Good.” With that decided, Dale tipped his lips up into a grin. Tension seemed to ease from his shoulders. “If you’re going to stay, then we need to get moving.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You can stay in my house as long as you want, but you’re going to need your own clothes. My pants are falling off you—and I’m pretty sure the first big wave’s going to have you flashing the shore.” His eyes glittered. “Not that I wouldn’t appreciate the view.”

  Clothes. Shampoo. Body wash. Toothpaste. There were dozens of things Nico would need if he was going to stay.

  Luckily, he’d been employed most of his life. Between living with his cousin and eating almost every meal at one of the family’s restaurants, he’d even managed to save most of his pay.

  Once he got his debit card replaced, he’d be able to pay his bills… at least for a couple of months. Not that he’d ever let it get that far. Travellis weren’t lazy. He could hear his grandfather’s voice like thunder in the back of his mind. Travellis carried their own weight. They didn’t shirk their responsibilities. They didn’t lie to their family.

  The thought made him grimace. “I need to get a new bank card—”

  “I’ll cover it.”

  “I don’t need someone else paying for me.”

  “Then you can pay me back when you get your cards figured out,” Dale said. “I’ll pay for now.”

  “Okay, where are we going?”

  “Beachwear in town. Boutiques in Rehoboth.” Dale’s lips dipped down. A crease appeared on his forehead. “Outlets are a little inland.”

  Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of outlet stores. Nico hadn’t met many men who were. “Guess I could start with some beach clothes. It’s not like I’m here to go mountain climbing.”

  “Funny.” Dale’s fingers relaxed. He dropped Nico’s hand and turned back toward the shore. “Let’s go.”

  “Is getting out the same as getting in? You have to wait for your moment?”

  “Nah, you run like hell for the sand.”

  Nico made it three steps before Dale snagged his wrist and reeled him back in against his chest. “Easy, tiger.” His laughter was full-bellied and warm. “It was a joke. You go out between the waves. That way you don’t get knocked on your ass.”

  They waited a few seconds. Nico couldn’t see any change in the water, but Dale must have found a new moment because then they were walking toward the beach. A wave slapped against their heels as they clambered onto the shore, but Nico wasn’t tossed around once. “It’s really fucking beautiful.”

  “Truth.”

  Together they grabbed their discarded shirts. Nico pulled his shirt quickly on over his head while Dale hung his over his shoulder while he dried off. They stumbled up the beach and into the truck.

  The engine roared to life, and they rumbled straight back into traffic. Five minutes later, they passed the first store with swim trunks fluttering in the window. The next was right next door. There were six on the same block. “We going someplace in particular?”

  “Sunsations.”

  They passed two different Sunsations, a Sun at the Shore, and a place that had painted itself to look like a Sunsations before finally arriving at their destination. “What makes this one so special?”

  “Parking.” Dale wedged the truck into a spot between the side of the building and a fire hydrant. Nico was 90 percent sure it was illegal.

  They got out and walked into the store. The clothes were all brightly colored. Most of them had the town’s name printed on the front. There were plenty of sweatpants, T-shirts, and swim trunks. A rack near the back held cargo shorts in different colors.

  It wasn’t Nico’s usual style—he’d have been better off at the outlet stores—but then he wasn’t living his usual life. He was seizing the moment. That moment included a pair of gray sweatpants and two pairs of shorts.

  “Swim gear.” Dale passed him three different pairs of swim trunks. Navy blue with white trim. Electric blue with round waves and shark fins. Black with shooting stars.

  Nico checked the prices. “Damn.” One pair of swim trunks was more than the rest of the stuff he’d grabbed combined. “Haven’t you heard of a sale rack?”

  “Good swim trunks are an investment.”

  “Whatever you say.” Nico had spent less money on tailored dress pants. He chose the navy pair and dropped it on top of his pile.

  Nico’s borrowed flip-flops caught on the edge of a clothing rack. Sunsations didn’t carry underwear, but they had footwear near the back. He could grab a pair of canvas deck shoes to wear until he found something better.

  Dale was still staring at him expectantly, the two remaining pairs of swim trunks outstretched between them. Apparently, Nico wasn’t supposed to choose just one. He added the rest to his stack. “Help me find some T-shirts?”

  “Any requirements?”

  “Plain. No logos, no writing. Something with sleeves too.” He glanced around the store. The only button-downs were in the corner. Brightly colored with hideous designs and tacky wooden buttons. Definitely not his style. Not in his old life, not in his new life, not a chance. “Maybe a henley?”

  “What the fuck’s a henley?”

  “It’s got sleeves and—” Nico cocked his head to the side. “It’s a henley.”

  “Right.”

  “Do you know where they keep shirts with sleeves?”

  Dale shrugged. “I don’t shop here.”

  “Where do y
ou shop?”

  “The lost and found. Anything that’s been left for thirty days is up for grabs—I’ve got a lifetime supply of superhero towels.”

  “Got any Captain America?”

  “You’re into big damn heroes, aren’t you?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “If you like big blonds who save lives, I can take my shirt off again.”

  “You’re nice, but you’re not Captain America.”

  Dale mimed getting shot in the heart. He teetered, stumbled, and fell back against a rack of coral sundresses. Dead. There was a long pause, and then his eyelids cracked open. Electric blue eyes blinked up at him from between long lashes. “I’ve got a couple. I had to be a little more discriminating after the second movie.”

  “Who’s your favorite? Iron Man?”

  “A genius billionaire playboy philanthropist?” Dale’s head cocked to the side. “And he’s played by Robert Downey Jr.? That’s pretty fucking sexy, but I’m a Hulk man.”

  “Norton or Ruffalo?”

  “Ruffalo, definitely.”

  “The Italian. You’ve got good taste.” Nico started moving through the store. He found a rack of henley’s against the left wall, bright blues, greens, oranges, and yellows. There was a single gray shirt left in his size. He snagged it along with one in a deep green.

  Dale’s loose-limbed body took up more space than should have been possible as he trailed after him as he walked over to the shoe rack. “It’s not that. The man’s fine—don’t get me wrong—but I like the character. The Hulk does what needs to be done and gets out. No explanations, no excuses.”

  “No friends, no family. Sounds lonely.”

  “There’s all types of lonely.”

  Nico’s gut churned. Didn’t he know it. His entire life he’d been surrounded by family. It was impossible to turn a corner in Chicago without walking into a Travelli. He’d still been lonely. His fingers itched. He wanted to grab for his cell phone, to call his cousin Gina and hear her laughing voice on the other end of the line. No one could be lonely with Gina. She was too full of life.

  That’s why he’d moved in with her back when he was eighteen and full of himself. He’d thought some of her brightness might rub off. He’d thought if he could be more like Gina, he could be happy.