Seb’s Summer by K.C. Wells

Chapter Seventeen

 

The engine chugged as the boat headed away from the dock and out into the harbor. Marcus was feeling like a summer visitor in shorts borrowed from Seb, his sunglasses, and a pair of bright yellow flip-flops. “Not sure these are me,” he murmured, gazing at his feet.

Seb laughed. “Anyone can carry off flip-flops in the summertime.” He glanced down. “And Gary’s shorts fit you better than mine would.”

“These are Gary’s?”

Seb snickered. “Relax. I did all his laundry the day I got here. Trust me, I wouldn’t have loaned them to you before that.”

“Where exactly are you taking me?” Ahead of them were several small islands, a sight he remembered from childhood when Dad had brought them out in the boat.

“Goat Island.” Seb pointed to the left. “That one over there.”

Marcus blinked. “Sounds… picturesque.” He peered at the island, glimpsing a white shape. “Is that the lighthouse?”

“Yup. That’s basically all there is. The island is a rock in the mouth of the harbor.”

“Is it still working?  I thought my dad said something about it being wrecked by a storm.”

“That was the walkway between the lighthouse keeper’s place and the tower. They rebuilt it in 2011. Apparently it looks like it did in the fifties. And yes, it still works. There’s even a ghost.”

“Seriously? There’s no such thing.”

Seb waggled his eyebrows. “I’m not so sure. Gary used to tell me stories when I was a kid.” He pointed to an island on the right. “That’s Bass Island. And we’re not stopping there because that really is just a rock. Nothing on it.”

Marcus peered ahead of them. “I don’t think there’s a lot more on Goat Island, from what I can see.”

“We’re not going there for sightseeing. We’re going there to chill. I thought I’d take you somewhere peaceful.”

That was fine in Marcus’s book.

The boat cut through the water and stopped several feet away from the shingle-covered beach. “We’ll drop anchor here, and wade in.” Seb glanced at Marcus’s feet. “Just take off your flip-flops. I don’t want them floating away on the tide. Lost too many pairs that way.”

Marcus frowned. “We are allowed to go ashore, right?”

Seb grinned. “Put it this way. If you see a Coast Guard boat, head back here pretty damn quick.”

They jumped over the side and waded through the thigh-deep water to the shore. The lighthouse was visible to the right, a cylindrical white building. Farther off was a white house with a red roof, and Marcus guessed this was where the lighthouse keeper had lived. A covered walkway connected it to the tower. Closer to the shore stood a pyramid-shaped tower covered in cedar shakes. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to it.

“That’s the new bell tower. They re-installed the original bell in 2011 when they did the renovations.”

They strolled closer to the lighthouse, and Marcus spotted a flagpole. Lush green grass covered the area around the house. He stared at the walkway. “Does anyone still live here?”

“Not anymore. At least, I don’t think they do.”

“So is there really a ghost?”

Seb sat on a nearby boulder. “Dick Curtis was the caretaker here in the late nineties, Gary said—until Dick apparently fell overboard and drowned while he was coming over here by boat. The guy who replaced him said things started to happen not long after that. Items went missing, but always turned up on the kitchen table. Then he told a story about one cold day when he sat in Dick’s chair and said,’ Dickie, give me some heat’, and an old electric heater that hadn’t worked for years turned itself on. Then there were problems with the foghorn. It would go off frequently, even when it was clear. The Coast Guard tried new sensors, even disconnected the power, but it still went off. When they replaced the entire unit? Then it stopped.” Seb froze as a figure came out of the house, gesticulating at them. “Fuck. There is a caretaker here. Time to go.”

“Unless it’s the ghost,” Marcus said with a grin.

They ran back to the boat, laughing as they splashed through the waves, Marcus clutching his borrowed flip-flops. When they were safely on board, Seb drew anchor and started the engine, the boat following a graceful arc in the water as it headed away from the shore.

“Well, that was a short visit.”

“We don’t have to go in yet,” Seb told him. “We’ve got water, snacks… we can just stay out here and enjoy the peace and the motion of the water.”

That sounded perfect.

Seb steered the boat around another island. “Seeing the ocean like this is way better than when I’m working.” He gazed at the shoreline. “I keep forgetting what a beautiful place this is.”

“It’s a far cry from New York, that’s for sure.”

“Do you live in Manhattan?”

“Yes.” Marcus couldn’t change the subject, not when he’d been the one to bring it up.

“Do you like living there? Never saw the attraction myself.”

“What counts as a big city in Maine?” When Seb gave him a puzzled glance, Marcus sighed. “I’ve been coming to Cape Porpoise since I was a kid. We’d go on day trips to York Beach or Kennebunkport, but that was about it. We stayed away from the more populated areas.” Then he snorted. “Except I remember York Beach being pretty damn populated in the summer.”

“I guess Portland is the biggest city. I don’t go much farther north than that. Although I have ventured as far as Acadia with my friends.”

Acadia National Park was on Marcus’s bucket list. “I’ve always wanted to go there. It looks beautiful.”

“One of my friends, Aaron, is a Park Ranger. He lives in Bar Harbor.” Marcus chuckled, and Seb gave him another puzzled glance. “Did I say something funny?”

“No, it was just the way you said it. You sound like you’re from Maine.”

Seb rolled his eyes. “Well duh. You should hear Grammy, Levi’s grandmother. Some of the things she comes out with make me scratch my head. Stuff you don’t hear so much now, except from old-timers.” Then he snickered. “And maybe fishermen.” He gestured to the cooler bag. “Could you pass me a bottle of water?”

Marcus reached into the bag and removed two cold plastic bottles. He handed one to Seb, who drank from it greedily.

“I’ll tell you one thing I do envy you about living in New York—the gay bars. There aren’t that many around here.”

“I think you mentioned Ogunquit?”

Seb nodded. “My regular is Maine Street, although sometimes I go to the Front Porch. It’s a piano bar-cum-restaurant, and all the staff are gay. Well, mostly gay. It’s a fun place. There are a few more in Portland, but I don’t think they’re as good. Blackstones is tiny and pretty old-school, then there’s Bubba’s Sulky Lounge. The Flash Lounge says it’s a gay bar, but in my opinion it needs to be more gay.”

Marcus laughed. “Yeah, there are a few gay bars in New York.” And he’d probably seen them all.

Seb cocked his head. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you like living there?”

Marcus’s stomach clenched. I did once. Now he wasn’t so certain. “I’m not sure if ‘like’ is the right word. I work there. And I’ve sort of got used to it. Most of the city is huge and noisy, with way too many people. But there are quiet spots. Having said that, you’re never far from traffic.”

“You work in Manhattan?”

“Yes.” Now can we change the subject?

Seb chugged some more water, then wiped his lips. “So, basically your job is to come up with ways to part people from their cash by making them buy something they didn’t want in the first place.”

Marcus studied him. “You’ve never bought something solely on the strength of an ad?”

“Nope, never… Well… I say that, but…”

“Come on, confess.”

“I suppose when I saw the ad for the Slap Chop, I had to have it.” Seb grinned. “Especially when the guy demonstrating it said, ‘You’re gonna love my nuts.’ I think I spat out whatever I was eating at the time. No way did a straight guy come up with that line.”

Marcus grinned back at him. “And you’d be right.”

Seb’s eyes widened. “No. Fucking. Way.”

He nodded. “That was one of mine.”

“Seriously?”

Marcus’s eyes gleamed. “No, but I had you going there, didn’t I?”

Seb stared at him. “I see. Funny guy, huh?” His eyes twinkled.

Fuck, he’s such a breath of fresh air.

Marcus had had his fill of guys with agendas, who said one thing to his face and another behind his back, guys who went with the herd, instead of swimming against the tide.

I think I’m mixing my metaphors here.

Maybe living in New York had jaded him, but his life had become a list of guys he regretted getting involved with.

There were other regrets too, ones that had potentially far-reaching consequences. It was stupid to blame what had happened on the location, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the same events would have played out elsewhere.

Probably. What had ensnared him knew no boundaries.

Seb was nothing like any of the men he’d known. He was the epitome of What- You-See-Is-What-You-Get, and Marcus loved that. There was no duplicity in him.

“Hey, where did you go?”

Marcus dropped back into the moment. “Sorry. Guess I zoned out there.”

Seb locked gazes with him. “I get the feeling wherever you zoned out to wasn’t a good place.” He kept his hand on the wheel as he steered them toward the dock.

“You don’t do regret, do you, Seb?” The words were out before he could stop them. When Seb’s brow furrowed, Marcus elaborated. “Because I get the feeling regret is another of those words that’s not in your vocabulary.”

Seb bit his lip. “You’d be wrong. Not that I blame you—you don’t know me, that’s all. If I’m honest, I don’t think most of my friends do either. Sure, they know the guy they went to school with, the kid with the attitude. I couldn’t be me at home, so I sure as hell was gonna be me when I was away from it.”

“What do you regret?”

“Choosing to live my life the way I do. Don’t get me wrong. I work hard, and when the weekend comes, I play hard. And like I said a while back, up until recently I wasn’t interested in a relationship, but…” He drew in a long breath. “This seems an odd conversation to be having in a boat out on the ocean.”

“Maybe it’s because there are no distractions out here. It’s easier to focus.” Marcus knew he’d been seeing life differently ever since he’d arrived. But isn’t that what I came here for?

“Maybe I should use this time to rethink my life,” Seb mused. “Because I’ve been lying to myself. I’ve told myself over and over that this is what I want—no strings, no entanglements—but you know what? I’m only now realizing that living this way hasn’t made me happy, so what’s the fucking point?” He swallowed.

Marcus caught his breath. In that one moment, he saw Seb, with all the fears and insecurities he hid so well. “Maybe I know you better than you think.”

Seb exhaled. “Okay then. What am I thinking right this second?”

Marcus didn’t break eye contact. “That you want to take us back to the dock, take me back to your place, and shut out the world for a few hours. If you want us to fuck, that’s fine. If you don’t, that’s fine too. You just want to be with someone who gets you, who won’t make demands of you—who accepts you as you are, balls to bones.”

Seb shivered, his eyes widening. “Fuck,” he whispered.

The skin prickled on Marcus’s arms, and it had nothing to do with the breeze off the ocean. “So? What do you say?”

The boat picked up speed, and the dock loomed ahead of them.

Marcus had his answer.

 

 

They were barely through the door when Seb launched himself into Marcus’s arms, their lips colliding in a long, unhurried kiss that sent warmth spreading through him. Marcus slid his hands under Seb’s tee and moved them higher, grazing Seb’s nipples with his thumbs, making Seb shiver.

“Too many clothes,” Seb murmured between kisses.

Marcus could do something about that.

Standing beside the couch, he undressed Seb, taking his time, making sure to kiss each new bit of skin that came into view, until at last Seb was nude, his arms pebbled with goosebumps, his breathing shallow. His dick rose, stiff and long. Marcus removed his own clothing, dropping the shorts to the floor and stepping out of them. He cupped Seb’s chin, ignoring the shaft that rubbed against his own erect cock.

“Well? What do you want?”

Seb curled his fingers around Marcus’s dick. “I want this inside me. No pounding, no bouncing on your dick, just a lazy, gentle fuck that lasts as long as we can make it.”

Marcus pulled him closer, not letting go of Seb’s chin, until their lips were almost touching. “Sounds perfect.” Then he closed the gap and they kissed, a lingering kiss that sent tendrils of heat curling through him. Seb broke the kiss, grasped his hand, and led him toward the bedroom.

Marcus left his worries and regrets in the living room, along with his clothing.

None of them had any place in Seb’s bed.