by Barley A. R.
Nico grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it at the sink. His motions were short and tight. There was an economy of movement as he placed it carefully in front of Dale before stepping away.
Dale took a sip. “You know, I’m a sixth generation chicken farmer? It was the family business, and I was always supposed to take over. More than that, I wanted it. Raise chickens, be my own boss, meet some cute guy and live at the beach. That was the dream. Right up until the resort called.”
“They took the land?” Nico guessed. “Some sort of eminent domain thing?”
“No.” That would have made it so much easier to explain. It might be something Nico, with his big family and hard-core work ethic, would understand.
Nico hadn’t talked about his family much, but the way he talked about their restaurant—Travelli’s—was almost reverential.
Any hope of understanding or even absolution disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Hell, he’d be lucky if Nico didn’t join his aunt and the rest of the busybodies trying to run his ass out of town.
“I sold my family’s legacy—over a hundred acres of prime Delaware real estate, close enough to the ocean you can taste it—for more money than my father saw in his entire lifetime.” His aunt would never forgive him.
He tried to take another sip of water, but his hands were shaking too hard for him to steady the glass.
“I didn’t do it for the money.” He hadn’t bought much, except the car, some good booze, and every winter off since he’d graduated from college. “The resort wanted to expand. They were going to more than double their occupancy.”
The world was blurring in front of him.
From tears or lack of oxygen?
He forced himself to take a deep breath, but his vision didn’t clear.
Tears, then.
Fuck.
Dale wasn’t supposed to cry. He was a happy guy, a tough boss, and a good friend. He wasn’t supposed to be leaking tears over a damn chicken farm. “All those people spending money in town—and the chicken farm was never going to be able to offer more than a handful of jobs.”
Nico hadn’t asked for his life story. He’d offered to pay his share of the rent.
It would have been easier to take the money, but Dale was glad he knew. Now he needed to hear the rest of it.
“It was math. Pure and simple.” He sighed. “At least that’s what I tell myself to get through the night.”
“Does it help?”
“Sometimes.” Sometimes he could look out the door without seeing the feed yards and barns that had been there before he sold. He shook his head, trying to dispel the memories. “You going to leave now?”
“Leave?” Nico’s eyes widened. He sucked a breath in between half-open lips. “Why would I leave?”
“Because I gave up. I sold the family farm.”
“And I ran away.” Golden cheeks flushed. Nico’s teeth dug into his plump bottom lip. His gaze dropped toward the ground. “I don’t think either of us have the moral high ground.”
The chains that had been wrapped oh-so-tight around Dale’s heart began to loosen. “So you’re staying.”
“That depends.”
The chains were back, and this time they felt like they were locked in place. Dale forced himself to take a deep breath. “On what?”
Nico’s gaze was a little too serious as it swept the little cottage with its peeled linoleum counters and sliding glass door that came off its rocker every few weeks. “Can I paint the guest bedroom? The place is like a cave. Plus, I think the plaster’s out to get me. There’s a crack near the door that looks like teeth.”
“Probably easier if you keep sleeping in with me.”
“Don’t worry, your bedroom is getting a paint job too.” Forks and plates clinked and clanged as they landed on the table. The barbecue joint had done their job well. He’d taken the time to unload his deepest darkest secrets, and there was still steam coming off the chicken. “If you won’t take rent money, then you can at least let me clean up around the place. Maybe we could paint the outside a color that can’t be seen from space.”
“You don’t like flamingo pink?”
“You do?”
“I love it.” He grinned. “It pisses off the neighbors.”
“As long as you’re not color blind.”
Chapter Eleven.
THE SIGN was big and splashy on the side of the road. White letters on a green background with the image of a billowing flag underneath. “Welcome to Maryland.”
“I didn’t know the border was this close.”
“It’s a small state,” Dale said. “Some of the best parts of Delaware are in Maryland—or Virginia.”
“Pretty sure that’s not possible.”
“If it’s on the Delmarva, I’m claiming it.”
The signs were getting brighter, and the buildings were getting bigger. A twinge of anxiety ran down Nico’s spine, but he refused to let it show. “What’s a Delmarva?”
“It’s the peninsula we’re on. Delaware. Maryland. Virginia. Del-mar-va.” Dale reached across the center console to pick up Nico’s hand. “I’ll take you down to Assateague sometime to see the wild ponies.”
They weren’t going that far today. Just a couple of miles up the road. At least that’s what the guys at the Lazy Crab had told them. When Nico had asked them for something fun to do—something that Dale hadn’t done a thousand times before—they’d laughed their asses off. It turned out Dale was a regular at the nightclubs in Rehoboth, the roller coasters in Ocean City, and the go-kart courses inland.
It had taken almost an hour to brainstorm something new and different, something genuinely unique.
The buildings on the ocean side were twenty or thirty stories. Hotels and condos. Some of them had been painted a light tan to match the sand. Others were a bright aqua like the ocean on a summer’s day.
When they finally arrived at their destination, Nico had to check the address twice to be sure he hadn’t made a mistake. The big hotel looked like any other. Maybe a little pinker. Its old-school facade was covered in lighted signs made out of hundreds of light bulbs instead of newer neon or LCD panels.
Dale’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “The Princess?”
“Ever been?”
“Nope.”
Nico’s heart fluttered a little. “Good to hear.” He parked the car in the lot, and they headed toward the door. It had been over six weeks since his arrival in Delaware, and he wouldn’t trade that time—or Dale—for anything, but it felt good to be in the driver’s seat for once.
Dale had shown him the ocean. He’d shared his home and his town. He’d taught him how to watch for the waves and pick crabs.
It was time for Nico to do a little teaching of his own.
The lobby of the hotel was big and clean, decked out in cream-colored marble and the same pink paint they’d used on the stucco. Inside the paint was a whole lot less faded. “It looks like your house.”
Dale crossed his arms in front of his chest. He didn’t look impressed.
Except Nico’d begun to identify his “not-impressed” look as something Dale did anytime he felt uncomfortable.
It was kind of cute.
Nico put a reassuring hand on his arm, giving it a quick pat. “We’re heading toward the back.” It was another five minutes of walking before they arrived at their final destination, surrounded by ornate columns and a player piano. He recognized the song immediately.
“Waltz of the Flowers” from the Nutcracker.
The ballet was one of his grandfather’s favorites. The entire family went to a matinee performance every December. Nico had attended the show with his parents when he was a kid.
“Do we have to do this?” his mother had asked, but the answer was always yes. They’d always gone, and Nico had fidgeted in the seat between his parents, not quite understanding the appeal. Right up until the year everything had changed.
Then Nico’s spot had moved down to prid
e of place—his grandfather’s side—and he’d finally understood. There was nothing like the amazement in the old man’s eyes when he saw Clara dance out onto the floor for the first time every year. “Your grandmother played Clara once,” he’d said after the show. “It was a community production, and she was too old, but….”
But he’d loved her.
Nico had never felt that for Erica or anyone else he’d ever dated. He’d thought he was incapable of that sense of wonder… until he’d met Dale.
“Ice skating?” Dale said. “Really?”
“It’s all about balance and timing. It should be right in your wheelhouse.”
“I’m better in the water.”
“Pretty sure that’s all ice is—frozen water.”
Curved lips pushed together in a thin line. “It’s the freezing that’s the problem.”
“Let me show you.”
It only took a moment to rent two pairs of skates—this time Dale didn’t know the man behind the counter—and then they sat down side by side on the marble benches with their delicate wrought-iron backs to put them on. “Pull the laces as tight as you can. You need the boot to support your ankle.”
“You learn how to do this from your grandfather?”
“My father.”
There was a small pause. “You don’t talk about your parents.”
“No. I don’t.”
“How’d they die?”
“My dad was a good Travelli—and a sucky cook. He could burn water. He couldn’t work the front of house either, bad attitude.” He looped the laces around his hands and pulled them until he couldn’t feel his toes. Good enough. “He was a firefighter. One day he went into an apartment building and the roof fell in on him. My—my mom—”
He was just stating facts. Pure and simple. He didn’t feel bad about them, not anymore. He swallowed back the stutter and tied off his laces. “I don’t know how she knew, but—my mom must have sensed I was gay. She called me a deviant. Then my father was dead and I was alive. She dropped me off at my grandfather’s the next week. She never came back.”
“Bitch.”
“Yeah.”
“You ever go looking for her?”
“Nope.” There was no point. As far as he knew, she was still in the same spot, living in the brick bungalow on the outskirts of Chicago where he’d learned how to walk and run and ride a bike.
Nico double-checked his laces and stood up. He made it two steps before Dale followed him.
“Got any tips?” Dale wibbled and wobbled his way onto the skating rink….
Thud. He landed on his ass.
Hell’s bells, Nico should have picked up some gloves for this little activity. “You okay?”
Dale’s face was red. His square jaw was clenched tight. He tried to get up and failed.
“Roll forward onto your hands and knees—”
Dale did as he was told, clambering around until he was on all fours. He wiggled his golden eyebrows flirtatiously and grinned. “At least it’s a position I’m familiar with.”
And now Nico couldn’t stop looking at his ass, thinking about how good it would feel underneath him… around him. He forced himself to take a deep breath, but even the sharp chill coming off the ice couldn’t cool his libido.
Dale was beautiful—a golden god—and he smiled every time he looked at Nico. When they kissed? It was freaking electric.
Nico’s erection surged against the zipper of his heavy denim jeans. His skin tingled under his T-shirt. He skated back a few inches to put space between them. This wasn’t the time or the place to get so excited, not when anyone could see them.
So, he didn’t reach out to help Dale back onto his feet. He waited patiently for him to get his skates back underneath him. “Okay, slow and steady. Like you’re taking long graceful steps.”
“Sure.” His left leg jerked forward.
Nico might have forgotten to pick up gloves, but at least he’d told Dale to wear long pants for their adventure. From the way the olive material gripped his solid thigh muscles, he’d chosen clubwear. Every motion was clear and visible.
Underwear would have been visible too, if he were wearing any.
His right leg followed the left. His hands were held out half a foot from his body, like he was a baby bird trying to fly. His weight shifted. He started to glide forward, and his toe pick hit a piece of rough ice.
His arms flapped, but there was no takeoff. He overbalanced and—
Thump. He slammed into the ice again, barely putting his hands up in time to stop from breaking his fall with his face.
Dale wasn’t going to make it halfway around the rink without some help, and why couldn’t Nico help him? It was the right thing to do. The friendly thing. He’d do it for any one of his new coworkers at the Lazy Crab, so why not for Dale?
Dale was already on his belly this time, so it was easy enough to get up on his hands and knees.
He reached out a hand.
Fuck. Nico swallowed hard. If he helped Dale up now—if he held his hand while they made their way around the rink—then he’d never want to let him go.
And anyone could see.
Just like the couples in the park back in Chicago, the ones Nico had always watched enviously. Except he hadn’t been the only one looking. “Faggot.” “Asshole.” It had only happened a few times, but every time, it had been like a slap in the face. A reminder of why Nico couldn’t have what he wanted.
Flirting with Dale in an empty miniature golf course or the privacy of their shared home was one thing, but could Nico really do this?
Could he be the man Dale deserved?
More than a friend with benefits or a lover who was going to disappear at the end of the summer.
Could he be a boyfriend?
Whatever doubts he was feeling must have flashed across his face, because Dale put his hand back down. His face was pale except for two rosy spots on his cheeks. He lowered his eyes, and Nico caught the glint of ice in his long blond lashes.
He got one skate underneath him, and—
“I’ve got you.” Nico grabbed Dale’s hand and steadied him.
It took two tries to get the bigger man on his feet.
Afterward, Nico refused to let him go.
He’d made his decision. He didn’t want to be another tourist passing through—someone who was going to give Dale a thrill for the night and leave before morning—he wanted to be something meaningful.
Their relationship was something more. It was important. That meant Nico wasn’t going to leave at the end of the season, and he wasn’t going to let Dale fall. Not again.
“Count off each step,” he advised. “One. Two. Three.” He wrapped his arm tight around Dale’s waist, his fingers splayed out wide across his torso. “One. Two. Three.”
“One.” Nico pushed off a little faster. “Two.” He provided the propulsion. “Three.”
All Dale had to do was stay upright. It took him a moment to relax into the motion, and even then, his fingers gripped Nico’s arms hard enough that he’d have to check for bruises before going to work the next day.
Together they skated in a small circle… and then they did it again. The third time they looped the ice rink, Dale swallowed hard. Muscles tensed and fluttered under his fingertips. “I can do it by myself.”
“And if I like holding on to my boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” Dale’s breath caught in his throat. His grip on Nico’s arm was harsh and unbreakable. No checking necessary. There were definitely going to be bruises in the morning. “We’re boyfriends now?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know that I’ve ever had a boyfriend before.”
“Well, I don’t do things half-assed, and Travellis don’t do flings.”
Except for his cousin Gina, but she’d rejected the traditional route for Travelli girls—working at one of the family businesses, falling in love early, and getting married in a big Catholic wedding. She’d gotten a job at a mor
tgage company, had half a dozen short relationships, and was currently working her way through law school at two different retail jobs. God love her.
Nico wasn’t built that way. He liked having one job and someone to come home to at night. “You’re my boyfriend.” He said it a little louder now. “I’m gay, and you’re my boyfriend.”
There was an ugly snarl from one of the hotel customers walking by: “I never.” Dale flipped them the bird. A second later Nico did too.
“You’re a great boyfriend,” Dale murmured in his ear before dipping his head to kiss Nico on the cheek. “Now let’s get these fucking death skates off and go home so you can fuck me.”
“Yes, please.” At least Nico’s jeans did something to hold down his erection. It took him a moment to push off, navigating them over to the rink entrance, and when they finally landed on the bench, he let out a gasping sigh of relief.
“Nervous?” Dale asked.
“Fuck you.”
“That’s the plan.” He grinned. “See, nothing to be worried about. I’m a guaranteed thing.”
That didn’t stop Nico’s heart from beating double-time as they turned in their skates and headed back out to the parking lot. It had only been an hour, but going from the air-conditioned hotel lobby to the heat and humidity of the great outdoors was like being hit with a sledgehammer.
It didn’t matter. Nothing could distract Nico from his goal. Dale. Naked and panting underneath him, begging for his touch. They were halfway home before he managed to form a coherent thought. “You’ll tell me what you like?”
“Oh, yeah, babe.” Dale’s voice was a rough purr. “I’m not exactly a submissive bottom.”
His gaze narrowed. He didn’t want Dale tied to the bed, but that didn’t mean he was going to let him ride him like a show pony. “You’re not in charge either.”
“We’ll see.”
Nico glanced down, his lips quirking up into a smile when he saw Dale’s erection poking at his pants. Nice to know he wasn’t as unaffected as he liked to pretend.
He couldn’t wait anymore. His body seemed to move of its own accord; his hands lifting out and reaching before he could think about the ramifications. He was unbuttoning Dale’s pants before his brain caught up with his actions.