Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

We pulled into the marina at Cooper's Cove and expertly maneuvered into our boat slip. Our guests thanked us with a generous tip and disembarked, and we set to work hosing down the boat, the lounge chairs, and the hundred other things on our checklist. Two hours passed in a flash, and we'd completed most of our tasks. Nicky and Mattie sat on the edge of the bow, dangling their legs over the side. Nicky wore a T-shirt, but Mattie was bare-chested, his shoulders red with sunburn. I grabbed a tube of sunblock and crouched down behind him.

He startled when I grasped his shoulders, the sunblock cold to the touch, but settled again as I began to knead the lotion into his skin.

"If you're not gonna wear a shirt, you need to keep reapplying the sunblock. Skin cancer is no joke."

Mattie glanced over his shoulder at me. "Yes, sir. "

"I was just telling Mattie about these travel blogs I follow. Ever since last summer, when I first started sailing with you, I've taken an interest in them. I could help him submit his photos."

"That's very sweet of you, Nicky. I'm sure Mattie would appreciate your help."

Mattie reached out to capture Nicky's hand, squeezing it, and my chest warmed from the sign of affection between them. Their friendship was unlikely, but had bloomed quickly. Two lonely souls with a common bond—the desire to be loved and accepted for who they were. I was glad they'd found each other and for my part in bringing them together.

"Hey, we're gonna take off," Cass called.

"Clear out the fridge and take all that food with you."

"You don't want any?"

"Nah, we'll get takeout on the way home."

He walked over, popped a kiss on my cheek, and picked Nicky up under the arms, hauling him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He carried him down the dock, with Nicky squealing and giggling the entire way.

"What do you feel like having for dinner?" I asked.

"Whatever you want is fine with me."

Taking a deep breath, I blew it out and chose my next words carefully. We were heading home— alone —and the lines and expectations had been blurred all to hell this past week. I needed to re-establish them again before things got awkward. I didn't want Mattie to fall into a trap of pleasing me out of hand, just because he felt like he needed to as my guest.

"This is how it's gonna go when we get home, so listen up." He'd become relaxed and pliant from the massage, practically melting against my chest, but now he stiffened, sitting up straighter. "You're not a guest in my home, even if it's a temporary situation. I told you that you were welcome there as long as you wanted or needed a place to call home, which means it's your home too. That being said, I still pay the bills there, and it's my name on the mortgage, which means you'll respect it, and me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

My lips grazed his neck, the heat from his sun-burned skin warming my lips. His biceps flexed under my hands, and I squeezed. Mattie had a gorgeous toned body, now tanned from sailing, that I couldn't take my eyes off of.

"There'll be rules, Mattie, and consequences when they're not obeyed."

"Like what?"

"You can take over the yard work when we're in between charters. I expect you to clean up after yourself and keep the kitchen and bathroom clean. You'll have a curfew, and no parties at the house."

"Parties?" he snorted. "I would have to have friends to have a party. My only friend is Nicky, and I don't think he's the party type. "

"I don't know," I hedged. "It depends on what kind of party, I guess. Something tells me he would be the it guy at a sex toy or a bachelor party."

Mattie laughed. "I could totally see that, but then again, he doesn't drink, so I don't know."

"Who told you he doesn't drink?"

"He did."

Now I was the one snorting. "It's not that he doesn't want to drink, more that he's not allowed to. Alcohol does strange things to the boy's head. You've never laughed or worried until you've seen Nicholas Laurent drunk."

Mattie grinned. "Really?"

"I couldn't even make this shit up. Last summer, there were several incidents involving alcohol that I'll never forget. Climbing into a hot tub full of men while wearing nothing but that little white bathing suit of his, streaking naked across the beach, and trying to swallow fire on stage."

"We should totally fuck with him," he chuckled. "You know, in a controlled environment."

"There's no controlling his environment when rum is involved. Everything gets out of hand very quickly."

Mattie sighed, leaning into my chest. "I don't want this summer to end. I've never felt this happy. For the first time in my life, I'm not carrying around a ball of stress in my chest, constantly worried about… everything. Walking through the front door to find another argument waiting for me, or walking on eggshells ev ery time I discuss my future. I wish this could last forever."

My lips brushed the shell of his ear, and he shivered in my arms. "It's called Island Fever. I caught it a long time ago, and I think it's incurable. This summer is a turning point in your life. You're at a crossroads and you're going to have to choose which direction you want to continue in."

"I don't wanna go to college. That's the only thing I have figured out so far."

"That's fine. You don't have to. But you need to figure out where you're going."

"Why can't I stay with you and go where you're going?"

"I'm not saying you can't, but remember you asked me where to find happiness?"

"Yeah, you said between a man's legs," he joked, laughing at my wisdom.

"Since when do you listen to me? You're gonna have to find what makes you happy, and it's probably not necessarily what makes me happy."

"I want to take pictures, but my dad says it's a dumb career."

"It's not. There're lots of things you could do with that. I've seen some of the pictures you've taken this summer and they're magnificent. You should submit them to a travel magazine, like Nicky suggested, as a freelance photographer and see what happens. You have nothing to lose by trying. "

"A few weeks ago, I would never have had the confidence to dream that big. Now, things feel different."

We stopped for Chinese food and brought the containers home with us. Mattie chose a Marvel movie and after we showered— separately —and changed into sweats, we made ourselves comfortable on the couch and ate straight from the containers with chopsticks.

After midnight, I began to yawn and called it a night. I burrowed under the covers, appreciating the softness of my bed after sleeping on the yacht for the last two weeks. It felt good to be home. That was the thing about dry land: it felt like a comforting kiss on chafed skin, soothing and healing, but the sea always called to me, like a lover. I was never able to deny her for long.

My eyelids grew heavy, falling closed, and I drifted somewhere between wakefulness and sleep.

"Sam?" His voice startled me, my eyes popping open.

Mattie stood in the doorway of my room, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight filtering through my bedroom window.

"What is it?"

Mattie didn't ask a question. He padded on silent feet to the side of my bed, turned back the covers, and climbed in.

"What are you doing, boy?"

"I don't want to sleep alone. I'm tired of feeling alone, and I feel good when I'm with you."

I was too tired to untangle that truth or the feelings it stirred in my chest. Sliding my arm around his waist, I pulled his body tight against mine, his back to my chest.

Damn, his hair smelled good, like eucalyptus.

"Don't get used to it." The little brat rubbed his ass against my cock, trying to make it stiff. "Quit, I'm tired. I sleep for shit when I'm on the boat." His body remained tense, like he wanted to say something. "Just go to sleep, Mattie-boy. Close your eyes."

The weight of slumber pulled me under, and I slept solidly through the night with his warm body in my arms.