Seb’s Summer by K.C. Wells

Chapter Seven

 

“I still don’t know why you invited him,” Marcus grumbled as he took a final glance around the living room to see if he’d missed anything. Jess had thrust a duster into his hand, and had even told him to dust the ceiling fan.

She thumped a cushion on the couch into submission. “He seems nice. I loved that bit about recognizing the lobster. He’s got a good sense of humor. And he’s gay.”

Marcus blinked. “You cannot know that. You spoke with him for less than five minutes.” It didn’t matter that Marcus was fairly certain of it.

“Did you see his T-shirt?”

“I wasn’t looking.” That wasn’t a lie. He’d been doing everything he could not to look at Seb’s chest—or anywhere lower, if it came to that. Not to show that he was interested in the slightest. Except he was. “If it was the one that says Yes I am, and no, you can’t watch, I’ve seen it. He was wearing that the day I met him.”

She grinned. “Yeah, I’ve seen that one too. This one said I’m not gay but my boyfriend is. How could you miss that?” He didn’t bother replying. “You should see some of the stuff the guys at work wear. And that’s another reason how I know he’s gay. Out of the five guys who work in my office, three are gay. You get a sense for these things after a while. So let’s look at the facts. He’s good-looking. He’s funny. He’s into guys.” Her grin widened.

Aw shit. “No. Get that idea out of your head right this second.”

She gazed at him, those blue eyes wide and innocent. “What idea?” Yeah right.  “Make yourself useful. Go check the liquor cabinet for supplies while I deal with Pinchy.”

He stared at her. “You know how to get the meat out of the lobster?”

Jess shrugged. “Sure, it’s easy.”

“I’m impressed.” He recalled their parents taking them out to dinner when they were in their teens. They’d ordered shrimp, and Jess’s plate after she’d attempted to peel off the shells had resembled the aftermath of an explosion.

“I just pick up my phone, type how to get the meat out of the lobster, and watch the video.” He rolled his eyes. Jess gave him a meaningful stare. “So, about Seb… Does he know you’re gay?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“No.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Can I at least drop hints?”

He narrowed his gaze. “You are going to behave this evening, you got that?”

“Sure. I’ll behave.” She grinned. “Badly.”

Marcus was starting to get a sinking feeling about this.

 

 

When the doorbell rang, Jess called out from the kitchen, “Can you get that? I’m a little busy right now.”

“Who’s winning? You or the lobster?” he yelled back. He took a last glance at his reflection. He’d gone with a dark gray T-shirt and jeans, aiming for low-key and relaxed. Then it occurred to him that his efforts were all for Seb.

No. Don’t go there.

“The door, Marcus!”

He hurried to open it. Seb stood there in jeans, flip-flops, and a denim jacket over a tee, a large white box in his hands. “I’m not too early, am I?”

“You’re fine.” Hell, he was a damn sight more than fine. “Come on in.” Seb walked ahead of him into the living room, and Marcus tried not to stare at Seb’s ass.

Seb’s very firm-looking, delectable ass.

“Stay out of the kitchen,” Marcus told him. When Seb frowned, Marcus grinned. “Jess is fighting with the lobster. I think it’s winning.”

“I heard that!” she hollered. “Hey, Seb. Marcus will get you a drink. I’ll be out in a sec with snacks.”

Marcus peered at the box in his hands, and Seb instantly held it out. “One of my best friends was raised by his grandmother, and I spent a lot of time around their place growing up. Grammy drummed into me that you never turn up empty-handed.”

Marcus peered inside. “Is this chocolate cheesecake?” He resisted the urge to drool.

“Good choice?”

“Perfect choice. Thank Grammy for me when you see her next. Let me take it into the kitchen.” Marcus paused. “Look, I know Jess said cocktails, but there’s beer too. I made sure I picked some up from the store.”

Seb grinned. “You’re a lifesaver. I don’t mind a glass of wine, but I’m not a cocktails kinda guy.”

“I’ll grab us a couple of bottles.” Marcus hurried into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of the clean countertops. “Wow. This looks better than I anticipated.”

Jess glanced up from her task of tipping cooked pasta into a colander. “What did you expect?”

He cackled. “Carnage.” He deposited the box on the countertop. “Seb brought dessert. Chocolate cheesecake.”

Her eyes glittered. “Ooh, we like Seb.”

He opened the fridge and took out two bottles of beer. Then he grabbed the opener and removed the caps.

“There’s a bowl of chips. Take that too.”

Marcus did as instructed, then went back to their guest. Seb was standing by the window, his jacket in his hand, staring out at the yard. “This is my favorite spot to drink my morning coffee,” Marcus told him. “I get to watch squirrel antics.”

Seb peered over his shoulder at Marcus and smiled. “Squirrels are cute.” Then he turned, and Marcus had to smile.

“You changed your shirt.”

Seb’s eyes gleamed. “You noticed.”

“You don’t do subtle, do you?” Seb’s T-shirt was black, emblazoned with Let me be perfectly QUEER. The lettering was white, apart from queer which was larger than every other word and done in rainbow colors and glitter.

Seb took the bottle Marcus proffered. “Jesus, this one is tame compared to some of the ones I wear when I go out.” He grinned. “I have a collection.”

“Why does that not surprise me? If this one is mild, what are the others like?”

Seb waggled his eyebrows. “They’re great for breaking the ice.” He took a swig from the bottle, then smiled. “By the way, you’ve got good taste.” He tapped the label with his finger. “This microbrewery makes some great beers. I only discovered it recently.”

Marcus was still intrigued about Seb’s tees. “What are your top three T-shirts?”

“That’s a tough one.” Seb rubbed his sparsely bearded jawline. “Okay, number three would be Gay men suck, but only if you ask nicely. Two would be Does this dick in my mouth make me look gay?”

Marcus was almost choking with laughter. “I’m not sure I want to know what number one is.”

Seb’s eyes sparkled. “It’s just a plain white tee with four words in black.” He paused. “It says, Come in me bro.”

Marcus tried not to cover the rug with beer. “Christ, I’m so glad you didn’t wear that one.” When Seb gave him a quizzical glance, he explained. “My sister works with three gay guys. She’d be ordering them as Christmas gifts in a heartbeat.” He gestured to the couch. “Please, have a seat.” Marcus placed the bowl of chips onto the table next to it.

Seb sat and gazed at his surroundings. “This is a beautiful house.” He inclined his head toward the yard. “I love all the trees.”

Marcus joined him at the other end of the couch. “If you walk through them, you’ll find a creek. My parents drummed into us about keeping away from it when we were kids.” Marcus looked at the cozy living room. “This house has been in my family for years. Every summer we’d be here. So many good memories.” He took a drink from his bottle. “Trawling for lobster… Is it hard work? I imagine it would be.”

“I’ve only been at it a week.” Seb sighed heavily. “And I’ve got a lot more weeks to come.”

“What about when you’re not trawling for lobsters? What do you do?”

There was that grin again. “Guess.”

Marcus swallowed another mouthful of beer. “Oh, that’s not fair.”

“Why not?”

“If I say something stupid, I either offend you, or I make myself look like an asshole.”

Seb’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll be gentle. You get three guesses.”

Marcus went with his gut. “You’re a professional surfer. You’re going to be one of the big names in Olympic surfing.”

Seb laughed. “Hey, I like that. But no.”

“Musician? You play in a band?”

“That sounds great, except I can’t play a single instrument and I can’t hold a note. So no. One more try.” Seb took a long drink from his bottle.

Marcus was all out of ideas. “Artist.” It was a stab in the dark.

Seb cackled. “Not even close. I teach junior high.”

He blinked. “No shit.”

Seb’s lips twitched. “I’m not sure whether to be amused or offended by that reaction.”

“I’m just trying to picture you in the classroom, in a suit…”

“A suit? Oh hell no.” Seb raised his feet off the floor and peered at his flip-flops. “I’d wear these if they’d let me. But no, dress has to be ‘professional’ or ‘appropriate’,” he air-quoted. “I wear dress pants and a button-up shirt. They’d like it if I wore a suit or a sports jacket, but it’s not required. Jeans are a definite no.”

Jess walked into the room, a glass of wine in her hand. “Dinner is all done. I thought I’d join you two and sit a spell.” She smiled. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” She sat in the armchair by the window.

Marcus gave her a hard stare. “Of course you’re not. We’re just chatting.”

Jess sipped her wine. “So, Seb, Marcus says you’re a visitor to Cape Porpoise. Where do you live?”

“Not that far from here, in Ogunquit.”

Her face lit up. “I’ve been there. There was this great candy shop—”

“Harbor Candy,” Seb interjected.

“That was it. And I remember another place, farther along the coast, I think. I used to stand and watch the taffy-pulling machine in the window. I could have stood there for hours.”

Seb nodded, smiling. “That’s the Goldenrod, in York Beach.”

“I took Jake—that’s my son—there to show him. Except he was more interested in the wrapping machine in the corner window.”

“If you went there, you probably went to the Nubble Lighthouse too.”

Jess beamed. “Yes! I took Jake there too, when he was little.” She frowned. “Now, what was the name of that place at the lower end of the Nubble parking lot? It sold the best ice cream.” Her eyes widened. “Brown’s. That was it.”

Seb nodded. “It’s called Dunne’s now. And the choice of flavors still makes my head spin.” He narrowed his eyes. “Except they don’t have the Danish custard flavor that Brown’s had.”

“Bummer.” She cocked her head to one side. “And are you single?”

Oh my God. Marcus cleared his throat. “I think that comes under the heading of ‘None-of-our-damn-business’?”

Seb waved his hand. “It’s okay. I don’t mind her asking. Yes, I’m single.”

“Do you know Machine or Jacque’s Cabaret in Boston?”

Seb frowned. “I’ve never been to Boston, and I don’t recognize those names. Should I?”

“They’re gay bars.”

Seb’s lips were twitching again. “And you think I keep a list in my head of every gay bar in the country? That’s almost as funny as asking me if I know a friend of yours in Boston because he’s gay.”

Jess flushed. “I see what you mean.”

Marcus had to work hard not to laugh. Score one to Seb.

“What do you do in Boston?” Seb asked.

“I work for an interior design company. I’m the secretary, gofer, coffeemaker, delivery girl on occasion… They call me their right-hand woman.”

“And what about you?” Seb asked Marcus.

Before Marcus could open his mouth, Jess got in first. “Marcus is a copywriter.”

Seb grinned. “So you’re the one who’s responsible when I see an ad and rush out to buy something I didn’t need in the first place.”

Marcus chuckled. “Probably.”

“He’s very good at his job.” Seb could hear the pride in Jess’s voice.

“I’m sure he is. So when you’re not staying here, where do you live?”

“New York.”

“City boy, huh? Must seem very quiet here.”

“Trust me, I don’t mind that at all.” In fact, Marcus wasn’t sure he wanted to return to all the noise and bustle.

“Marcus is writing a book,” Jess blurted out. He glared at her, and she glared back. “Well, you are.”

Seb’s eyes were wide. “I’m impressed. Fiction, non-fiction…?”

“Non-fiction. I’m not even sure if I want to publish it when it’s finished. And please, don’t ask me to tell you what it’s about, because you’d be snoring within seconds, it’s so dull.” Anything to get off the subject.

“So how did you two meet?” Jess inquired.

Marcus gave her another stern glance, but she was steadfastly ignoring him.

“We bonded over bananas,” Seb said with a straight face. Then he laughed. “Not really. I have a terrible habit of talking to complete strangers, and Marcus happened to be on the receiving end.”

“Then he did it again, only this time it was about magazines,” Marcus added.

“I meant to ask that day, only, you hurried off before I got the chance. You were looking at a fishing magazine. Are you into fishing?”

Jess snorted. “When he was ten years old, maybe. He used to go out in our dad’s boat—him, my dad, and our brother—and they’d sit out in the bay all day long, Marcus with this cute little fishing line.”

“Did you catch anything?” Seb asked, his eyes bright.

“Once or twice, I think. I’m sure we caught some mackerel.” Marcus smiled. “I told my dad I wanted to catch a lobster.”

“Maybe you should take it up while you’re staying here,” Seb suggested.

Marcus stared at him. “That’s what I was thinking about when I saw that magazine. I’m sure Dad’s fishing gear is around here someplace.” He sighed. “The boat is long gone.”

“Maybe Seb can find a boat, and you can both go fishing.” Jess’s seemingly innocent suggestion wasn’t fooling Marcus for a second.

“I’m certain Seb is way too busy to go fishing,” Marcus said in a firm voice. “Besides, he spends his days out on the water—he might not want to spend his free time out there as well.”

“And then again, he might.” Seb grinned. “I can’t remember the last time I did that. It would be a nice change to be in a boat and not chasing my tail, trying to do three things at once.” He drank some more of his beer. “And I think I can find us a boat.”

“That settles it,” Jess announced with a smug smile.

“No, it does not.” Marcus cleared his throat. “Is it time to eat yet?”

As soon as Seb left, he was going to have words with his sister.

 

 

“That was delicious,” Seb said with a smile.

Jess snorted. “Anyone can put together a salad.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never had lobster salad that had pasta in it.”

“You liked it though?” She looked a little anxious.

“I loved it. Besides, you drowned it in garlic mayo so as far as I’m concerned, you’re golden.”

She beamed. “See? Some people like a lot of mayo.” Seb got the feeling that was a dig at Marcus. She got up from the table. “I’ll fetch dessert.” Jess walked away from the dining table and into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about Jess,” Marcus said at once in a low voice.

Seb bit his lip. “What did you say about me not doing subtle? Your sister could give lessons.” It hadn’t taken him long to work out Jess was trying her hand at a little matchmaking. It would have tickled him, except Marcus’s reaction made it clear he wasn’t happy about it. Seb sighed. “She didn’t come right out with it, but it was kinda obvious.”

“What—the fact that I’m gay? What gave it away?”

Seb couldn’t hold back his smile. “I think it was when she suggested I visit New York next year in June, to watch the Pride parade with you.”

Thankfully, Marcus saw the funny side too. He burst into laughter. “Yeah. She’s about as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

Seb shrugged. “Hey, she means well. I should be flattered, right?” He stilled, his eyes wide in mock horror. “Unless she does this with every guy she meets?”

Marcus shook his head. “You’re the first, thank God.”

Seb was confused as fuck. Talk about mixed signals. It was as if Marcus was two separate men, at war with each other. One minute he was charming and funny, the next…Seb prided himself on being pretty good at reading guys, but Marcus was an enigma.

“Thank you for reacting so politely,” Marcus said at last. “You’re right, she means well. It just doesn’t occur to her that two gay men might not be interested in each other.”

Okay, that felt like Marcus was closing the door on any chance of them being anything more than acquaintances. Message received. Backing off.

Seb didn’t want to back off. He was already hooked.

Jess came out of the kitchen, carrying two huge wedges of cheesecake. “I checked. There’s vanilla ice cream in the freezer if you want some to go with that.” Both Seb and Marcus nodded. “I’ll bring out the tub.” She disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Ice cream with cheesecake is the best. Pity it’s not chocolate, but hey, nothing wrong with vanilla.” He locked gazes with Marcus, unable to help himself. “You a fan of vanilla?”

For a moment, it felt as if Marcus wasn’t going to respond. Then he smiled. “I’m more a Moose Tracks guy myself.” He licked his lips. “I prefer something that’s more of a mouthful. And maybe harder to swallow.”

Maybe that door wasn’t as tightly shut as Seb imagined.

Then Jess came back in, and damn, Marcus shut down faster than Seb could draw breath.

It was seven-thirty before he knew it. Seb thanked Jess for the meal, and both of them for the company. “You want me to find a boat so you can go fishing?” he asked as he put on his jacket. He could do that much for Marcus.

Jess opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again when Marcus fired a glance at her. He returned his attention to Seb. “Yes,” he said at last. “But on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

Marcus looked him in the eye. “You have to come too. I wouldn’t want to be out on the water alone. If you get the boat, I’ll bring food, rods and lines, bait…”

Seb smiled. “Deal. I’ll even give up my next Sunday for you. After that it’s going to get busy around here, what with the Fourth the following weekend.”

“Okay. Next Sunday then.”

Seb said goodnight to Jess, and Marcus accompanied him to the door. Seb held out his hand. “I know Jess kinda steamrollered you into inviting me, but I had a good time. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Marcus shook it. “Hope it’s a good week for you.” Marcus opened the door, but before Seb could pass through it, he said, “Not that I mind what you wear, you understand, but… which tee were you thinking of wearing next Sunday?” He smiled. “Just so I’m prepared.”

Seb rubbed his chin. “Maybe my new one?”

Marcus arched his eyebrows. “Dare I ask what’s on it?”

He grinned. “Mean gays suck. Nice gays swallow.”

“Oh God.”

Seb laughed. “Relax. I’m yanking your chain. I’m not gonna wear one of my precious tees out where the salt water can ruin it. You’re safe.” He paused. “Well, fairly safe.” He bade Marcus goodnight, then strolled along the dirt driveway that led to the road.

I don’t know what to make of him.

There was one thing Seb was sure of—he wanted to get to know Marcus Gilbert a whole lot better.