Chapter 1

1837 Words
Chapter 1 Marc A light wind rippled across the water, jostling him as the dock rose and fell with the gentle waves. Sunlight glittered across Wesley Lake and Marc slid his sunglasses from the top of his head and settled them on his nose, blocking out the dazzling rays. The temperature was already climbing, so he welcomed the fluttering breezes. The forecast had predicted Fourth of July could bring record-breaking heat, and he was starting to believe it. He was already looking forward to cooling off in the lake and wondered how early he could get away with changing into his suit. He’d arrived only a few minutes earlier, ready to help his best friend, Graham, with anything he needed before the other guests arrived. His first assignment had been to tote the folding chairs to the dock. A blue and white bowrider piloted by a young man sped by a little too fast, considering his close proximity to the land, and the dock moved with the swells. Funny that a year ago, Marc didn’t even know what a bowrider was, but now that Graham lived on the lake, Marc was learning about all kinds of boats. Graham and his partner, Sam, had decided to purchase a new boat and were looking at a variety. The old pontoon that had come with the cabin was tied to the side of the dock, and people would certainly be going out on it later. He hoped his friends would keep the pontoon, but wasn’t sure if two boats would be practical. Marc liked it, though. It was large, had lots of seating, and was easy to jump off when they took it out on the lake. “Marc?” He turned at Graham’s call and saw him leaning over the deck railing from above. His friend wore a red T-shirt and already had on board shorts, so maybe Marc could head inside and change into his suit. Everything he needed was stuffed into a backpack he’d tossed into Graham’s room. “Yeah?” “Can you give me a hand in the kitchen?” His voice sounded a little shrill. “Sure,” he hollered and smiled. Graham always got a little stressed before hosting a get-together. Marc was used to it—they’d been friends for a long time. After one more wistful look at the water, he hustled across the wooden walkway, then followed the cement path that led to the stairs and up to the deck. The lake cabin was all on one floor, save for the storage room underneath. Graham and Sam had put a lot of work into the place since Graham had purchased it from his father last year. The deck was completely new and twice the original size, and now featured benches wrapping around two sides. Marc opened the screen door and entered the kitchen, not surprised to see Graham leaning over the counter, his eyes closed. “What’s wrong?” Marc asked, resting his hand on Graham’s shoulder. “How can I help?” Graham turned, a tight smile on his lips. “I don’t know why I’m so freaked out. It’s just a small party.” “I do. You always want everything to be perfect…and it always is. So take a deep breath.” Marc waited for him to follow through. “Now, what can I do to help? That’s the reason I showed up early, remember?” “I know. Thank you. It’s just that some of the people Sam invited are his coworkers and I’ve met only a couple of them. I just want to make everything perfect for him.” Marc tried not to snort at Graham’s moony-eyed look. Ever since he’d met Sam the year before, Graham had been completely smitten. Fortunately, Sam had been the same. The situation sickened Marc a little, but that was his jealousy talking. “Trust me. Sam is going to love anything you do.” “What’s that?” They turned to see Sam walking through the open living room, bags of groceries in his arms. Well over six feet tall, with shoulders like a football player, he made carrying those bags look like the easiest thing in the world. He grinned at Graham and set the bags on the counter. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, leaning in for a kiss. Marc turned away. He was happy for them, he really was. But he’d been in a dry spell lately, and even though it was self-imposed, he didn’t need to see their sweet displays. And he knew that probably made him a bad friend. He’d likely get past it soon, but for now, he felt a little melancholy about the whole situation. “Hey, Marc,” Sam said, still hugging Graham. “Great to see you.” Marc grunted. Sam laughed. “Don’t be like that,” he teased. Marc rolled his eyes. “Seriously? I haven’t dated in six months. Ever since your boyfriend, here, convinced me to take things slow and look for ‘Mr. Right’ instead of ‘Mr. Right Now.’” And he needed to get laid like he needed to breathe. It was killing him. But he kept that bit of info to himself. Sam laughed and ruffled Marc’s hair. “Blue? Weren’t your tips purple last week?” “I redid them for Fourth of July.” He ran his fingers through his white blond hair, smoothing it down. Graham ordered Sam to start the grill and assigned Marc to chop vegetables for the veggie tray. Marc started on the carrots and glanced out the window at the lake. “Is the boat ready to go out later?” Graham slid a batch of brownies into the oven. “Gassed up and ready. The fireworks start as soon as it’s dark, so we’ll take the boat to the middle of the lake and get settled in plenty of time.” They talked as they worked, the conversation flowing easily. It had always been like that between them. “Is your dad coming?” “No. He’s had a difficult few days, so we’re going to visit him tomorrow. We decided that bringing him out would be too hard on him.” Graham sighed. “It’s so sad watching him get worse.” Graham’s dad had early-onset Alzheimer’s and he’d been placed in an assisted living facility a few months back. Graham still felt guilty about it, even though he knew it was for the best. “What time are people arriving?” he inquired, attempting to change the subject. “We said around five,” Sam answered as he stepped inside and grabbed tongs. “But it’s really casual, so people may show up earlier or later.” That gave them only about half an hour, so once he’d finished the carrots, celery, and broccoli florets, he asked, “Want me to add the black olives and broccoli to the pasta salad?” Graham nodded. “And the dressing,” he added as he followed Sam onto the deck, carrying brats and hot dogs. Marc worked on the pasta salad, adding and mixing ingredients. He started thinking again about changing into his swimsuit when he heard the front door bang. “Hello?” Marc trembled at the deep voice ringing through the cottage. He glanced over his shoulder and gaped at the incredibly gorgeous man in the living room. His breath caught in his chest and his knees nearly buckled at the sight of every one of his fantasies rolled up into one man. The man stood over six feet tall, had broad muscled shoulders, tattoos running down both bulging arms, and a gray T-shirt pulled tight over hard pecs. Faded jeans showcased muscled thighs and a flat waist. And the hair—God, the hair—dark brown, almost black, swept back and layered, edges curling around his ears. He also bore a close beard and mustache, strong cheekbones, and gorgeous dark eyebrows. Marc finally let himself look at the man’s eyes, and he gasped. Even from ten feet away, the emerald green dazzled him. And they stared right at Marc. The stranger’s lips curved into a smile, telling Marc he’d caught him checking him out. Marc’s cheeks heated and he swore under his breath, but he still didn’t move. Sam entered the kitchen with Graham right behind him. “Aiden! Glad you could make it,” Sam said, grinning as he took the bag from him. “What’s this?” “Just chips and salsa, my contribution,” he answered, his eyes still on Marc. “Are you okay?” Graham whispered, standing next to him. Marc swallowed and nodded, tearing away his gaze and returning his attention to the pasta salad. Sam led Aiden into the kitchen. “Babe, this is Aiden Wright, the new nurse at the office.” “Oh, hi! It’s nice to meet you. Sam’s talked about you a lot.” Graham elbowed Marc. “This is my best friend, Marc Byrne.” “Marc,” Aiden said, his voice like velvet. Marc nodded, but found speaking beyond his abilities at the moment. Aiden smirked and gave Marc a slow perusal, from the top of his white blond hair, to the electric blue tips, pausing to raise an eyebrow at his shimmery lips, then leisurely continued all the way down his five-foot-five-inch frame to his new white Astor kicks. His gaze again met Marc’s. He felt his blush deepen, but he couldn’t look away. Heat flashed in Aiden’s eyes and desire jolted through Marc, running directly to his d**k. With a wink from Aiden, Marc’s desire ramped up. It was immediate. Primal. If he found out Aiden rode a motorcycle and wore leather, he may never breathe again. He was the perfect daddy to his fantasies. The ones he’d never shared with anyone. Well, except for Graham. Which probably meant that Sam knew, too. Sam asked Aiden to join him on the deck, and once they stepped outside, Marc grabbed the counter and fought the urge to follow. “Wow,” Graham murmured, raising an eyebrow. “That was some serious heat between you guys. Should Sam and I leave?” Marc rolled his eyes and tried to blow it off. “Whatever.” Graham laughed. “I thought you weren’t dating right now.” “True. I’m holding out for Mr. Right, just like you did and—” His jaw dropped. “Oh, my God! Graham.” He grabbed his friend’s arm. “His name is Mr. Wright!” Graham chuckled. “Yes it is.” Marc was big on signs, and this one flashed in his face like a warning beacon. Was Aiden the one he’d been waiting for? In the past, he’d gone from man to man, one-night stand to one-night stand, looking for romance the wrong way and constantly getting his heart broken—he had a tendency to fall hard and fast, always thinking a one-nighter would turn into real love. After seeing his best friend finally find love with Sam and witnessing their happiness, he’d known he wanted the real thing, too. It had been hard, but he’d stayed away from the clubs, determined to work on himself before he dated again. He’d focused on his job at the finance company and it had paid off—he’d been promoted to Senior Underwriter just last week. He knew a lot of people would think his job boring, but he’d always liked working with numbers. They made sense. Everything fell into the right box. Funny, but in his personal life, he wasn’t like that. He liked expressing himself through clothes. He changed the highlights in his hair all the time. He loved art, trying new things, and dancing. And he was an expert at George Michael trivia. The man was his idol. Marc also enjoyed feeling creative and thinking out of the box in his life, just not his day job. He knew he was a bit of a conundrum for people, but he was happy with who he was. “Oh, God, I need to check my face,” he murmured as he headed to Graham’s room to get his backpack. He frowned at his friend’s laughter, but didn’t really care. He wanted to look good before he saw Aiden again. Once he’d touched up his eyeliner and shimmery gloss, he was ready to tango with Aiden. Now if only he could stop the fluttering in his belly. It wasn’t until he stepped out that he realized he hadn’t changed.
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