Perfect Day

by Sally Malcolm

  Finn smiled against his lips, cupped his hand behind Joshua’s head and held him close. He smelled warm, like home and the summer breeze riffling across the sand. “This is only the beginning,” Finn said. “This is the beginning of everything for us.”

  And Joshua knew he was right. This was the first perfect day of the rest of their lives.

  * * * * *

  Acknowledgments

  As always, a huge thank-you to my writing and critique partner, Laura Harper, whose script-doctoring skills are second to none. Thank you, also, Cass Lennox and Anna Phillips, for reading and enthusing, thoughtfully, over an early draft. You guys gave me faith!

  Without my hardworking agent, Deidre Knight, Perfect Day would still be languishing on my hard drive—thank you for believing in it! And, of course, I must acknowledge the enormous contribution of my editor, Kerri Buckley, and everyone at Carina Press who have helped turn a raw manuscript into a book that I’m thrilled to share with the world.

  Finally, thank you to my family for their boundless enthusiasm and support. You’re the best.

  About the Author

  Sally Malcolm cut her writing teeth on tie-in novels for the hit TV shows Stargate: SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis. She’s the author of nine Stargate novels and novellas, and four Stargate audio dramas.

  Sally branched out into romance in 2015 with her m/f historical romance The Legend of the Gypsy Hawk, but was bitten by the m/m romance bug in mid-2016 and hasn’t looked back. It’s fair to say that she’s become obsessed with the genre, reading a couple of books a week to feed her habit. Perfect Day is her first published m/m romance, with a follow-up out later in 2018 and a dozen other ideas bubbling away on the back burner.

  Sally hangs out mostly on Twitter @Sally_Malcolm where she talks about books, fandom and politics. She reviews her favorite m/m historical and contemporary romances on www.sallymalcolm.blogspot.co.uk and is always looking for new people to chat with about their romance reads.

  And don’t miss the series RT Book Reviews called “tremendously sexy and charming.”

  Off Base, the first book in Annabeth Albert’s Out of Uniform series is available now!

  After trading the barracks for a fixer-upper rental, navy SEAL Zack Nelson wants peace, not a roommate—especially not Pike, who sees things about Zack he most wants to hide. Pike’s flirting puts virgin Zack on edge. And the questions Pike’s arrival would spark from Zack’s teammates about his own sexuality? Nope. Not going there. But Zack can’t refuse.

  Pike Reynolds knows there won’t be a warm welcome in his new home. What can he say? He’s an acquired taste. But he needs this chance to get his life together. Also, teasing the uptight SEAL will be hella fun. Still, Pike has to tread carefully; he’s had his fill of tourists in the past, and he can’t risk his heart on another, not even one as hot, as built—and, okay, yeah, as adorable—as Zack.

  Living with Pike crumbles Zack’s restraint and fuels his curiosity. He discovers how well they fit together in bed...in the shower...in the hallway... He needs Pike more than he could have imagined, yet he doesn’t know how to be the man Pike deserves.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Off Base by Annabeth Albert.

  Off Base

  by Annabeth Albert

  Chapter One

  June

  “What do you mean they’re not coming?” Zack tried hard to sound like the badass navy SEAL he was now. He’d passed all sorts of interrogation training—there was no reason he couldn’t hide that he didn’t particularly like this guy. Or this fancy bar where he and his nontrendy clothes and military haircut were out of place. He’d agreed to go out for drinks with a group. His friend Ryan had promised him a drink for finishing his SEAL qualification training and getting his trident, and Zack had figured dealing with the rest of Ryan’s crowd wouldn’t be horrible. But tolerable was a far cry from being stranded alone with Pike freaking Reynolds without Ryan as a buffer.

  “They blew two tires getting out of Santa Monica and are waiting on a repair truck now. Ryan said to have fun without them.” Pike looked harmless enough—shorter than Zack with a lean build and bright red hair and freckles that made him look too young to drink—but Zack knew from experience he was anything but benign. Pike was the type of guy who would flirt with wallpaper, but he seemed to have singled Zack out for special attention ever since their first meeting at a LAN party.

  Which was all well and good, but unlike a lot of Ryan’s crowd, Zack wasn’t openly gay. And what Zack hated was that Pike seemed to see through all his “no, really I’m straight” protests and see things Zack refused to even think about. And a whole night with Pike? Torture. And that was coming from someone who’d been tossed into frigid water with his arms and legs bound. Repeatedly.

  But he’d happily endure another round of drownproof training if it meant an easy out of this situation.

  “Is Landon coming?” Please say it’s not just us. Surely, Pike’s omnipresent sidekick would be there to bail Zack out.

  “Nope. He’s doing research at the Hadron Collider for the next few months. Just us, I think.” Pike grinned at him. “Alone at last, right?”

  Zack guessed that the Hadron was one of those supersmart things Pike’s crowd just assumed everyone else knew about. He certainly wasn’t about to appear dumb and ask. “You don’t have to stick around on my account,” he said instead.

  “Dude.” Pike smacked him on the shoulder. “I’ve had a shit week. Another three interviews for jobs for the fall, another three fuckups on my part. Don’t make me drink alone.”

  “I guess I could do a beer.”

  “On me, right? We’re all super stoked that you passed SQT.” Pike gave him another of those disarming smiles.

  Ba-deep-deep. Zack’s phone chimed. Sure enough, there was a message from Ryan apologizing for bailing. Have fun with Pike, Ryan ended. But whatever you do, don’t let him talk you into shots. He looks scrawny, but he can drink you under the table. Trust me.

  Zack shoved his phone away. Nope, no way was he doing shots with Pike. Last thing he needed was to get drunk and forget himself around the guy.

  “So what’ll it be? They have a whole selection of craft beers here.” Pike offered him one of the little bar menus artfully strewn around on the huge antique wood bar.

  “A Bud’s fine,” Zack said. He’d never developed a taste for the fancy stuff. This whole place was fancier than he was used to, what with the exposed hardwoods everywhere, the prettified bar food emerging from the kitchen and the painted inspirational quotes behind the bar. Even the name, Mellow, was a far cry from the hole-in-the-wall places he’d drunk at in college or even Big Ted’s, the little sports bar right off base that his fellow SEALs favored.

  Pike signaled the burly bartender, who frowned at them after Pike gave their order for a Bud and some fancy-ass beer Zack had never heard of. “Hand stamps, please. Both of you.”

  Zack stuck his hand out, showing that the bouncer had indeed checked his ID. Pike put his arm right next to Zack’s—way too close for comfort. “See, look at us, finding things in common.”

  “Getting carded is hardly something to be proud of,” Zack mumbled as he pulled his arm away. Back in San Diego, when he went to the bars with his friends, they never got carded anymore. And he liked that—he was twenty-three now, for crying out loud.

  “Of course it’s not for you, Muscles.” Pike did that whole standing-too-close thing again, moving over so others could get to the bar.

  Zack really shouldn’t like that Pike noticed what the past few months of training had done for his physique. He’d always been lean, but days of log-and boat-carry drills had carved out muscles he hadn’t even been aware he had. Zack accepted his beer from the bartender, then followed Pike to one of the little high-top tables ringing the bar area.

  “Seriously, you are jacked now.” Pike winked at him, g
iving him the sort of once-over Zack’s buddies gave girls in bikinis. “Look at those shoulders. It even makes you look taller.”

  Flattery was not going to work on Zack. Not even a bit. Besides, Pike was the short one, probably five seven or so. But Zack was a perfectly respectable five ten. In your boots.

  “Truth, man. I just call it like I see it.” Pike shrugged. And that right there was the whole problem with Pike—he had absolutely no filter and a way too keen sense of observation.

  Zack had to look away before Pike turned that sense on him again and saw how much he liked all the compliments. He looked around the bar, but instead of that calming him down, his tension ratcheted way the hell back up. Next to them, two guys were snuggled up all cozy, chairs touching, arms around each other’s shoulders. Across the room, two women held hands, and he counted a few more pairings that could be guy-guy or girl-girl couples.

  “What kind of bar is this?” he hissed.

  Pike gave another casual roll of his slim shoulders. “It’s West Hollywood, man. Very mixed crowd is to be expected, you know?”

  No, Zack did not know that, thank you very much. He figured Ryan and his boyfriend wouldn’t drink anywhere too conservative, but he’d also assumed they wouldn’t drag him to a gay bar.

  “Dude. You look like you just discovered mouse poop in your fries. I promise no one’s taking away your het cred just because the quilt bag crowd likes to drink here too.”

  Zack shook his head partly because he wasn’t sure what all the letters stood for in quilt bag and partly because het cred was seriously the least of his worries. “It’s fine,” he lied.

  “Can I see the trident pin?” Pike leaned forward. This was part of the...thing about Pike. He loved all things military, knew all the acronyms, and made no secret about finding uniforms hot. It made it so that Zack was never sure if Pike was truly interested in what he had to say or if it was all about feeding his SEAL fantasies. And why Zack cared about that distinction, he couldn’t say.

  “I don’t go wearing it out bar hopping.” Zack gave him a hard glare, one that usually convinced others to fall in line, but it didn’t seem to faze Pike.

  “So tell me about SQT. Was it as hard as BUD/S?” Pike’s devilish smile said that he’d be happy to venture into more...inappropriate topics if Zack didn’t take this bait.

  “Nah. I was so damn glad they didn’t roll me all the way back to Hell Week that SQT was almost a relief.” Zack had broken his leg during the jump training portion of SEAL training that followed BUD/S, and he’d been hella nervous until the review board said he only had to repeat the jump training before joining the next SEAL class at SQT. He’d heard about guys rolled all the way to the start of BUD/S when they got a med drop.

  “And now you’ve got your platoon assignment, right? All new guys? When do you get deployed, you think?”

  Zack laughed at the stacked questions. Pike played too many warfare games. “Yeah. I’m here for the weekend because I got some leave after finishing SQT, but I’ll be based out of Coronado with my new team. And no, not all new guys. Couple of guys from BUD/S and SQT got assigned to the same platoon.” He kept his voice as casual as he could, trying not to reveal how fucked-up it was that he’d been assigned to the same platoon as Cobb, the guy who’d made his life hell in BUD/S. And to make matters worse, they were only a few rooms apart in the fucking barracks.

  “So you guys will be doing real missions soon?” Pike pressed. And fuck, wouldn’t Cobb have a field day with Zack being in this place with Pike? Christ, just the thought had him taking a deep pull from his beer.

  Zack groaned. “I wish. We’re looking at another twelve to eighteen months of training before we get into the field.” All the training was intense, but he couldn’t wait to get out there for real—it was what he’d signed up to do, why he’d done the navy SEAL challenge when enlisting, what he’d dreamed about for years.

  “Excuse me.” A pretty blonde woman, shorter than Pike, even in teetering heels, rested an arm on their table.

  “Yeah?” Zack said warily.

  “My friends and I have a bet.” She pointed over her shoulder at a group of young women crowded around one of the tables.

  “Oh?” Pike was way more enthusiastic than Zack would have been, giving the woman a friendly grin.

  “See, Miriam says you guys are a couple—”

  “We’re not.” Zack’s tongue nearly knotted in his hurry to deny that little idea.

  “Awesome.” She smiled widely at him. “So who wants to dance?”

  “Zack’s the one who plays for your team,” Pike said all casually, jerking his thumb in Zack’s direction, but there was a challenge in his eyes.

  “Fabulous.” She looked Zack over in a way that made his stomach cramp. Unlike when Pike scoped you out. He knew her gaze was supposed to make his blood hum, make him start thinking sexy things, but instead it kind of creeped him out.

  “Hey—” Zack started to protest, but the woman was already grabbing his wrist.

  You’re the one who’s always on about how straight you are, Pike’s eyes said as he didn’t move at all to rescue Zack, instead saying, “Go on now. I’ll keep the table and order some fries for when you get back.”

  Nothing to do other than drain his beer in one swallow and follow the woman to the dance floor at the far end of the establishment, separated from the rest of the bar by a low wall.

  She was cute in a little silver tank top and smelled liked the wisteria in his mom’s front yard, and Zack supposed he should be thinking how good her chest looked in the tight top or how much he wanted that scent all over him, but...yeah, not happening. Still, though, he’d been down this road enough times to know the drill, and he liked dancing, liked letting music move through him, even if the partner stuff did get tricky. The dance mix pumped out a fast beat, enabling him to keep space between them. And she was good, not stomping his feet or draping herself all over him. One dance and he’d politely send her back to her friends.

  Near them, a couple—a guy-guy couple to be exact—danced super close. Fuck. One of them wore some sort of spicy aftershave and had a low chuckle for his partner that went right to Zack’s gut. The two shared a private look and a kiss so dirty that Zack couldn’t look away. He’d seen Ryan cuddle up to his boyfriend a couple of times, but that sort of playfulness was a far cry from this...fireworks show inches from him.

  “Hey.” The woman tugged on his arm. “Your friend was wrong, wasn’t he?”

  “What?” Zack forced his eyes back to her. “Just...not used to... Never mind.”

  “It’s okay.” She gave him a knowing smile. “Thanks for the dance.” And she headed back to her friends with a little flip of her hair. Fuck. Zack had been figuring he’d buy her a drink, get her off the scent of whatever trail she thought she was on, but she’d dismissed him, clear as day.

  “Strike out?” Pike asked when Zack made his way back to the table.

  “She had to get back to her friends.” Zack tried to sound regretful but doubted he was all that convincing.

  “Fry?” Pike passed him a basket of sweet potato fries with some sort of mayo-based dipping sauce that was far spicier than it looked.

  “Whoa.” Zack fanned his mouth, then noticed his beer had already been refilled. He took a swig. “Thanks, man.”

  “Not into spicy?” Pike managed to make the question sound rather suggestive.

  Zack could survive hours of surf torture, but he couldn’t control his blush. “Nah.”

  “That’s okay.” Pike swiped a ketchup out of the condiment display on the back edge of their table, passed it to him. “Simple’s good too.”

  Zack honestly wasn’t sure whether they were talking about fries anymore, but he nodded. “So...crap week?” he asked partly to avoid a long awkward silence and partly because he figured even Pike couldn’t flirt while bitching.


  “Oh man, you have no idea. Defended my dissertation back in the winter. I thought I had a job all lined up with War Elf—”

  “That huge role-playing game?”

  “Yeah. I did my dissertation on a statistical analysis model of their users’ usage habits over time.”

  “Impressive.” Zack blinked. He had a degree himself, but his BA in history didn’t include the wherewithal to decipher all the lingo needed for a math PhD.

  “Yeah, anyway, I was told they might have a place for me, but they don’t, so now I’m stuck tossing my hat in the teaching ring. And it sucks.”

  “You don’t want to teach?”

  “Do I look like professor material?” Pike gestured at himself. Zack let himself do the one thing he tried to avoid and really looked at Pike—faded T-shirt advertising the game Ryan’s boyfriend worked for, ripped jeans. Surprisingly full pink lips. Twinkling green eyes—wait. Clothes. He was supposed to be noticing clothes.

  “Not exactly,” Zack mumbled into his napkin.

  “I had to wear a suit three times this week,” Pike moaned.

  “Dude, until you have to wear the same soggy BDUs for five days running, you don’t get to complain.”

  “Okay, okay, you win. I’m just saying that this whole adulting thing bites.”

  Zack had seen enough suckage in his life to decide that “adulting” was practically a vacation, but he nodded because a “suck it up, buttercup” wasn’t going to go over well with Pike’s pity party.

  “You know what we should do?” Pike brightened, getting a gleam in his eye that frightened Zack more than a live grenade. “Shots. We need to do shots.”

  Across the room, the woman from earlier was talking to her friends and as if on cue, the whole table tittered and three blond heads swiveled in his direction before returning to the giggle fest. Fuck.