The Shore Thing (States of Love) by Barley A. R

Author:Barley A. R. [R., Barley A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 9781635338096
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2017-08-23T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight.

WHEN DALE got home, there were already half a dozen cars parked in front of his house. The liftgate to Richard’s green hatchback was open, and a bunch of lifeguards had formed a bucket brigade to transport booze into the house. Dale grabbed a six-pack before it could get to Becky. “When’s your birthday again?”

“Last week?” Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. She sighed. “December, Dad?”

“Don’t even joke.” He wasn’t old enough to be her father, was he? The math worked out quickly in his head. He winced. Not quite, but that didn’t make the suggestion any less unsettling. “Just for that, you can help me unload the crabs.”

“How many did you get?”

“Four bushel.”

She let out a low whistle. “You must really like him.”

“Who?” Dale asked.

It was bullshit.

They both knew who she was talking about—the only person either of them had been talking about since they’d dragged him out of the water. Nico. He handed the beer over to Joe Tyler and followed Becky back to the truck. They each grabbed a bushel of crabs and carried them over to the picnic tables set up behind the house.

“I like him,” Becky said. “He’s smart. He’s funny. He’s freaking nice. I went in earlier to get some newspaper, and he made me some lemonade. From real lemons. I don’t know if I’ve ever had lemonade from lemons before.”

“Not even as a kid?”

“I’m quite deprived.” Her head cocked to the side. “Richard said he’d make me a lemonade if I wanted.”

“Richard’s an asshole. You deserve better.”

“Well, duh.” Her cheeks flushed happily at the compliment. “What about Nico? What does he deserve?”

“Better than me.” Which was more of the truth than he liked to admit. Nico was smart and funny. He knew how to cook and now—a job.

Dale’s heart had been racing ever since he’d heard the news.

A job wasn’t temporary—not for a man like Nico. It wasn’t something he’d pick up one day and leave the next. He was sticking around.

It should have been exciting.

Dale knew he should be excited.

But that didn’t explain the icy tendrils of fear curling around his heart. Fuck. A job was long-term. It meant Nico was someone he could depend on.

It meant Nico was depending on him. The thought was enough to give him hives, but—

“Dale!” Nico raced out of the house in an olive-green button-down and a pair of dark khaki shorts that showed off his knees.

Dale sucked in a breath. He’d never been attracted to knees before—not when there were so many more intriguing parts of the male anatomy—but Nico’s were delicious. They were dimpled.

“You asshole.” Nico slammed his hands against Dale’s chest. His jaw was tense. He looked ready to fight. In a dark alley or crowded bar it might have been intimidating, but in Dale’s sunlit backyard it was fucking cute. “Who are these people?”

Dale was confused… very, very confused. He glanced around. The four large picnic tables had been covered in newspaper. The bucket brigade of beer bros was building a pyramid in the shade of the outdoor shower.

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