Seb’s Summer by K.C. Wells
Chapter Sixteen
July 9
Marcus sat in the dining room, staring at his laptop screen, and trying to ignore the music pouring out of the living room. Jake and Mike were in there, on their phones, talking, and the TV was on too.
Whoever said men can’t multitask was obviously not referring to the younger generation. They’re a new breed of men.
After putting up with the cacophony for a further fifteen minutes or so, Marcus admitted defeat. He got up from the table and went into the kitchen.
His mom was sitting at the breakfast bar with Lisa, discussing crocheting and checking out yarn shops on the tablet. Mom gave him a half smile as he passed them, but it was clear her mind was on the conversation.
He went through the back door and out into the yard, heading for the summerhouse. At least there he was guaranteed some solitude. As he strolled toward the far end of the yard where the structure sat in the shade of tall trees, he caught the sound of children’s voices, bringing with them the prospect of imminent invasion.
Do I need a No Entry sign?
Once inside, he sat at the table, opened his laptop, and started to read again. It had been several days since he’d even peeked at the manuscript, but a break from it was no bad thing. It made it easier to spot mistakes, paragraphs he wanted to switch around or delete altogether.
Ten minutes later, his peace was shattered as shrieks filled the air. He glanced through the window to where Sophia and Alex were playing a game. He had no idea what the game was, only that it was damn noisy.
Pity Granddad didn’t think about soundproofing when he built this place. Marcus stared harder at the laptop screen, as if that would blot out the yells. They won’t be out here all morning, will they? It’s nine-thirty, for Christ’s sake.
Then he stiffened. Chris was peering in through the window.
Marcus closed the laptop with a sigh as Chris stuck his head around the door. “Can I come in?”
Marcus regarded him with a straight face. “If I say no, will it stop you?”
Chris laughed and stepped inside, pushing the door to behind him. “Can we talk?” He went to the armchair and sat, extending the foot pad to raise his legs. “God. That’s better. Getting old sucks.”
Marcus huffed. “You’re only forty-eight. Not exactly ancient. And I’m guessing ‘Can we talk’ was a rhetorical question.” He turned his chair to face Chris. “What can I do for you?”
“I was just concerned, that’s all. You don’t seem your usual self. You’ve disappeared into here a couple of times over the last few days. Anyone would think you’re avoiding us.”
Apparently, Chris was more observant that Marcus gave him credit for.
He fixed Chris with a hard stare. “Isn’t there some techie website you can go drool over?”
Chris gazed at him in mild surprise. “We used to be able to talk.”
“And that was a long time ago. I think the older we got, the more we realized we are nothing alike.” At least that had been Marcus’s view.
Chris frowned. “Are we that different?”
“Mom used to say I was always in trouble because I took risks when I shouldn’t have. You, on the other hand, never got in trouble because you never took risks. Yeah, I’d say we’re different. And no, I haven’t been avoiding you.”
Pants on fire.
Chris laced his fingers. “Maybe that’s partly my fault. I haven’t been that talkative since we got here.”
Marcus had noticed. “Jess said you’ve had some problems.” He held up his hands. “She didn’t elaborate, and I figured they couldn’t have been all that huge because you hadn’t said a word. If it was serious, I was sure you’d have gotten in touch.” Their lives might have diverged, but they were still brothers, and Marcus would do anything in his power for his family.
“Oh, it’s just Rachel, that’s all. She got the house, but it doesn’t seem to be enough.” Chris snorted. “You’ve got the right idea.”
“Hmm?”
“Staying single.”
Marcus raised his eyebrows. “It’s not a deliberate choice. Just haven’t met anyone yet who’s swept me off my feet.” Not to mention he hadn’t been looking either.
“And what about Seb?”
He stilled. “What about him?” Christ, his family couldn’t resist, could they?
“Seems like an all right guy.” Chris’s eyes sparkled. “If he can cope with you, he’s a keeper.”
Marcus bristled. “Excuse me?”
That got him another derisive snort. “You’re not exactly easy to live with. I mean, just look at the past week since we’ve been here. You’ve been stressed, moody, agitated…”
Marcus gaped at him. “That surprises you? I came here for peace and quiet, then chaos ensued.”
“Don’t give me that. You knew we were all coming. And you don’t have to stick around. You can always go find your peace and quiet someplace else.”
“You know what? That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said since you came in here. So I’ll do just that.” He picked up his laptop bag from the floor beside the bed and shoved the laptop into it, along with his notepad. Then he grabbed his jacket that hung on the back of his chair.
“Hey, Marcus—”
He waved his hand. “I think you’ve caught me on a bad day. I’ll be back when my mood is better.” He strode through the yard, avoiding the kids who were running around whooping and hollering, and went back into the house. Mom glanced at his bag, and he paused long enough to kiss her cheek. “I’m going to Seb’s. I won’t be staying the night. But I don’t know if I’ll be back for dinner.”
She nodded. “It’s beef casserole. I’ll save you some, just in case. Say hi to Seb for me.”
“Sure.” He walked out of the kitchen, stopped in the hall to grab his car keys from the table, and headed out of the door. As he reached the car, an idea struck him. Maybe a detour was required.
Seb stretched. Hell, is it only Thursday? After the week they’d had so far, he was more than ready to kick back when Sunday arrived.
“You heard from Gary?” Tim asked as he shoved the receipt for the lobsters into his pocket.
Seb snorted. “Not a peep. Have you?”
“I send him a text every day, tellin’ him about the catch. Figure we’re doin’ okay ’cause he hasn’t called me up to swear at me.”
That made him laugh. “Maybe he’s got enough on his plate, coping with his sister.”
Tim gave him a speculative glance. “You’ve made it through four weeks—well, almost—and you ain’t fucked up yet. You sure you wanna go back to teachin’?”
That made Seb laugh even harder. “Fuck yeah, I’m sure. At least with teaching, I don’t go home every night smelling so bad that it can peel paint.” He grinned. “‘Ain’t fucked up yet’? Hey, that sounded like a compliment. Watch yourself there, Tim. You’re slipping.”
Tim waved his hand. “See ya’n the mornin’.”
Seb returned the wave and began the trek up Pier Road. He was bone tired, but that was nothing new. The sun beat down, and he was glad he had his baseball hat. It was a beautiful day, too fine to be spending what was left of it indoors. And just like that, his mind went to Marcus.
He’d been doing that a lot lately. He hadn’t seen Marcus since Sunday, and although that had to be good, Seb couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
What did I expect? For him to turn up every day so we could fuck like bunnies? Except it wasn’t just the sex. Seb liked being around him. There was something about Marcus that put Seb at his ease. Yes, he was sexy as fuck, but Marcus was more than his looks. There was a keen mind behind those stunning eyes, and a sense of humor. He didn’t make demands or assumptions, and most of all he didn’t judge.
That counted for a great deal in Seb’s book.
When he turned into the driveway, he spotted a familiar car, and his heartbeat sped up. He’s here. Despite his fatigue, he quickened his pace. As he opened the front door, he caught a smell that made his mouth water. “Is that chicken soup?”
Marcus stood in the kitchen, stirring a saucepan. “And hello to you too. I brought you lunch. I’ll have it ready for you by the time you’ve showered.”
Seb laughed. “You’re saying I stink, right?”
He grinned. “Put it this way. I could smell you when you reached the end of the driveway.”
Seb gave him the finger and headed for the bathroom. He squirmed out of his jeans and layers and dropped them onto the floor, ready for the washer. As he stepped into the tub, he called out, “Wanna scrub my back?”
Marcus laughed. “Getting déjà vu here. You concentrate on the task in hand, and I’ll concentrate on mine.”
“Spoilsport.” Seb flipped the shower on and let the hot water and soap remove all traces of the last seven hours. He gave special attention to his nooks and crevices, because fuck, it had been four days. Marcus surely hadn’t come over just to make Seb lunch—he hoped. Judging by the boner he was sporting, part of his anatomy hoped so too.
As he dried himself, he debated strolling into the living room in just a towel, but then dismissed it. Stop thinking with your dick. Seb put on a clean pair of jeans, but paused at the choice of tee. He spread four or five on the bed, before finally choosing one. By the time he walked out of the bedroom, two bowls of steaming soup sat on the coffee table, along with two plates containing hunks of fresh bread.
Marcus took one look at his shirt and laughed. “You don’t think maybe it’s a little too subtle?”
He’d gone with a black tee emblazoned with the words Queer as Fuck in sparkly rainbow letters. Seb rolled his eyes. “And there you go again, using words that aren’t in my vocabulary.” He glanced at the lunch and smiled. “This looks great.”
“I thought it would be a nice surprise for when you got home.”
“It is.” Seb sat back against the seat cushions, the bowl in one hand, his spoon in the other. Marcus joined him. “How long have you been here?”
“Only two hours.”
Seb laughed. “Your morning was that bad, huh?”
“Let’s just say I couldn’t see it improving anytime soon.”
The soup was delicious. “Damn, this is good.” He glanced at Marcus. “Did you get anything done?”
“Today was mostly reading.”
Seb enjoyed the comfortable silence while they ate. Some guys felt the need to talk all the time, but not Marcus. When he’d finished, he put down his empty bowl and spoon with a happy sigh. “That was just what I needed.”
“Now that you’re home and fed, I’ll go.”
He frowned. “Do you have to?”
“You must have things to do, and I don’t want to be in your way.” Marcus made no move to get up from the couch, however.
Seb folded his hands behind his head. “I gotta say, I expected you to turn up before this. When it got to Thursday and I hadn’t seen you, I figured things were going well back at the house.” He cocked his head to one side. “Unless you stayed away on purpose because you didn’t want to be a nuisance.” When Marcus blinked, Seb knew he had nailed it. “I meant what I said. You’re not in the way. Don’t put up with whatever is driving you crazy because you don’t wanna put me out. You’re welcome here, anytime. And just because we’ve finished lunch doesn’t mean you have to go.” Besides, he didn’t want Marcus to leave.
“I’m not in the mood to write anymore.”
Seb sat up straight. “Then let’s do something.”
“Such as?”
Seb glanced toward the window. “As I was walking back from the wharf, I was thinking what a lovely day it was. So why don’t we go somewhere and enjoy what’s left of the day—together. It’s not something I get the chance to do often. We could take the skiff and head out to one of the islands. We wouldn’t be going all that far, but at least we’d be out of the house and in the sunshine.”
Marcus smiled. “I like the sound of that. I am surprised, however.”
“What surprises you?”
His eyes twinkled. “I felt sure sex was going to be on the itinerary at some point.”
Seb grinned. “Day ain’t over yet.” He had seven or eight hours before he’d have to think about sleeping, and he wanted to spend as many of them as he could with Marcus. And if a couple of those hours were spent in bed, even better.
