Looking For Love (Semper Fi, The Forever Faithful Series Book 2)

by Stella Starling

  Zach crossed his arms over his chest and raised one eyebrow, trying not to laugh. No point encouraging Brody. Zach did not sound like that.

  “Seriously, Chief, that little twink was looking at you like you were fucking candy,” Brody said, grinning unrepentantly. “I’d be seriously concerned about you if you weren’t planning on doing something about it. I mean, I know you had someone else lined up for last weekend—”

  “I canceled.”

  Brody stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open. Then he grinned, putting the ice pack back against his eye. “Well, damn. What happened to Saint Zach giving everyone a shot? Swan diving into the dating pool? Looking for lurvvvvvv?”

  Zach’s lips twitched. His friends never got tired of teasing him about his search for someone. Brody was right, though. Canceling on Delia was the first time Zach had backed out before at least seeing where things went with someone.

  “Does this mean you’re not gonna hook me up with the little twink’s number when you’re through with him?” Brody asked, smirking. The gleam in his good eye made it more than clear that Brody was just trying to get a rise out of him.

  “Nope,” Zach said, popping the P-sound. “Micah’s mine.”

  And sure, it wasn’t technically true… but it felt kind of true.

  And it sounded even better.

  Brody laughed, yawning again halfway through it. “I’d do the blond in a heartbeat if you weren’t staking a claim, but can’t say I blame you.” He tossed the ice pack onto the counter. “You got any aspirin, Chief? If you were serious about that guest room, I wouldn’t mind popping some and then crashing. I’ve gotta report in at oh five hundred.”

  “You and me both,” Zach reminded him, almost eager for it because the next day was Friday… finally.

  He got Brody what he needed and said good night, then turned back toward the bathroom. He was tired as fuck, but if he didn’t rinse off from surfing, going to sleep wasn’t going to be all that restful… and the faster he got himself to sleep, the quicker he’d be seeing Micah.

  Zach grinned, heading for the shower.

  Zach swiped open a playlist and tossed his phone onto the bathroom counter, then stripped off his clothes and flipped on the shower. It always took a minute to heat up, and he grabbed his phone again while he waited, adjusting the volume when Ed Sheeran queued up. No need to keep Brody awake when they both had an early morning.

  He opened up the photo gallery while he waited for the water to go from icy to acceptable, idly looking through some of the pictures he’d snapped that afternoon and smiling when he came to one in particular. It was just sea and sky, framed so that the entire image was made up of the calm surface of the Pacific Ocean under the clear blue of the late afternoon sky, every shade blending together, so that there was no defined point where one ended and the next began.

  He tapped the share button and pulled up Micah’s number, adding the caption:

  Surfing today. This made me think of you.

  As soon as he sent it, though, he immediately second-guessed himself. After all, there wasn’t anything in the picture. But his phone pinged with Micah’s reply almost immediately.

  Just blue :-)

  Something in Zach’s chest eased open, and he laughed out loud. That was exactly why it had made him think of Micah. He wiped some condensation off the screen—the shower was good and hot now—and glanced at the time, tapping out another message.

  See you in 20 hours :-)

  Micah’s reply came in as a series of texts, one right after the other, and Zach grinned. He could practically hear Micah getting breathless and excited as he read through them.

  You’re counting the hours?

  I mean, I’m kind of counting, too.

  Should I say that?

  Wait, it’s okay, right? Because you said it first. :-)

  Ok so yes, I’m totally looking forward to tomorrow.

  Totally.

  So... I’ll see you soon.

  In 20 hours :-)

  Zach was tempted to hit the call button just to hear Micah’s voice, but he reminded himself that good things were always worth the wait. He shot off a final message before getting in the shower:

  See you then :-) Good night

  Micah’s enthusiasm fueled Zach’s hopes about the spark between them, but as he made quick work of scrubbing his hair and rinsing the salt off his body, he reminded himself not to let those hopes get too high. After all, he’d yet to meet a twenty-two-year-old who was looking for the same things that he wanted. Still, no matter how logically he tried to talk himself out of it, he couldn’t fully restrain his optimism. He didn’t have expectations, exactly, but some serious anticipation of good things to come?

  Oh, hell yeah.

  Zach couldn’t remember feeling this excited about taking someone new out in… well, maybe ever.

  It wasn’t just because Micah did it for him physically—although he did, in a big way—but it was the way Zach felt around him, too. Constantly surprised, utterly charmed, and something else that had almost felt familiar, even though “familiar” wasn’t exactly the right word. Zach didn’t have a better one, though. It was like an unreasonable part of his heart was already convinced that it knew Micah—hadn’t Micah instantly understood when Zach had sent him the just-blue picture?—but Zach would be the first to admit that the idea was a little bit crazy.

  He was definitely looking forward to getting to know Micah though, and yes, the “doing it for him physically” was a part of that, too.

  Fine… maybe a big part, if he was being honest.

  Zach grinned at that thought, tipping his head back to rinse out the shampoo. It had been a while since he’d taken a man out, and longer than that since he’d slept with one. And while he wasn’t in any way assuming that things would get that far with Micah on the first date, still, he couldn’t deny that he was hoping it would happen eventually.

  Sooner rather than later, actually.

  He closed his eyes as the water ran over his face, remembering the way Micah’s skin had flushed so easily, over and over… how soft it had felt under his hands… the little hitch in Micah’s breath that had given away his interest.

  Zach groaned, his imagination filling in what memory couldn’t.

  He wanted all of Micah’s skin. Wanted to touch it. Taste it. Tease it into every shade of red he could imagine.

  And that mouth…

  Zach sucked in a breath, filling his lungs with warm steam and the scent of his own arousal as the memory got him hard. He leaned against the wet tile, pillowing his head in the crook of his arm, and gave in to it. Micah had a sweet innocence about him that was refreshing, but it was impossible to remember his pouty little mouth without imagining all sorts of dirty ways to use it.

  Zach wrapped a hand around his cock, giving himself permission to picture every one of them.

  He wanted to suck on that plush lower lip Micah was always biting until he knew its taste by heart. Wanted to lick inside his mouth and inhale the sounds of his excitement. Wanted to see Micah’s big blue eyes looking up at him while he thrust between his lips, wanted to see them spread wide around his cock and hear the wet, sloppy sounds Micah would make as he worked Zach over with that hot little mouth.

  Zach thrust hard into his fist as he pictured it. The warm water flowing over him and the tight grip of his own hand made it feel all too real, and he groaned, losing touch with reality. For all Micah’s shyness, there’d been something hot and eager in his eyes that hinted at the kind of sex Zach could easily see himself getting addicted to.

  The kind he wouldn’t have to hold anything back from.

  Zach panted, biting his fist. He wanted Micah pressed up against the shower’s wall, wanted to fuck him hard and fast and hear him come undone. He wanted to take Micah slow and sweet, to lie him down on a soft bed and draw it out until they were both crazy. He wanted to watch his own cock disappear inside that tight little ass, to have Micah’s compact body wrapped arou
nd him, to feel Micah holding on tight, to watch Micah ride him, to bend him over and—

  “Fuck fuck fuck.”

  The rush of Zach’s orgasm rose so fast that his knees started to buckle, and he collapsed against the wall with a deep moan, shooting his pleasure over the wet tile. He pumped lazily into his fist a few times as the last of it shuddered through him, feeling so damn good that he was almost tempted to slide down and sleep right there, under the warm spray of water.

  So good that he had to wonder if there was any chance at all that reality would ever be able to come close.

  Zach grinned, turning off the water and heading to bed as the same totally unfounded but inescapable optimism that had filled him earlier did so again. Because honestly? His gut feeling was that reality would be even better… not just the sex, whenever that ended up happening, but all of it.

  Micah.

  The thought of him felt exactly the way Ana had always described meeting the man whom she’d spent fifty blissful years with. Somehow, Zach’s heart kept insisting that it recognized Micah, and no matter how much he tried to keep his hopes in check and his expectations from running away with him—no matter that it sounded farfetched and too good to be true and like something that he’d never believed actually happened in real life—he still couldn’t quite shake the conviction that it was true.

  And even though Zach generally was a patient man, he was counting down the hours, because he couldn’t wait to find out if he was right.

  6

  Micah

  Micah bit his lip, glancing back and forth between Pippin and the mirror as he tried to decide if he looked all right or not. She barked once, wagging her tail and letting her tongue loll out in what he always thought of as her doggie grin, and Micah laughed.

  “Really, Pipp?” he asked, not sure he should trust her judgment, but appreciating the support. “Because you said the same thing about the green shirt. You don’t think this blue one is too bright?”

  She barked again, then froze—ears up and tail going still—before bounding out of his bedroom toward the front door. A moment later, a loud knock sounded and Micah’s heart leapt right into his throat, practically choking him.

  He glanced at the clock, squinting like mad as he forced his eyes to trace the numbers and his brain to make sense of them.

  It wasn’t six o’clock yet.

  Zach had come early?

  That was totally unfair. Micah wasn’t ready yet. Well, technically, he was—as long as he ignored the fact that his entire wardrobe was spread out around his bedroom and he wasn’t at all sure that the blue shirt was the right choice, despite having gone through every single possible option at least twice—but he was also so nervous he thought he might throw up.

  He wanted to see Zach. He’d been looking forward to it like crazy, actually. But now that it was actually about to happen? He was suddenly swamped with the totally justifiable fear that he wouldn’t be able to get a single word out all night. Or, worse, that he’d get too many words out, and they’d be the wrong ones, or the most embarrassing ones, or simply the ones that would make Zach regret ever having asked him in the first place and end things before they even had a chance to get started.

  Pippin let out a sharp bark from the living room, and Micah wiped his sweaty hands on the sides of his pants—orange. Too bright? Too much? But it looked so pretty with the blue,—and made his feet move. Before he could get to the door though, he heard the sound of a key in the lock and it swung open, his sister Rachel-Lyn bursting into the room like a force of nature.

  “Oh, good, you’re ready, musje,” she said, scratching Pippin behind the ears while simultaneously reading something on her phone and straightening one of the framed prints on his wall, a close-up of flower petals that he’d taken at the San Diego Botanic Garden a few months before and then… enhanced.

  Rachel-Lyn was a whirlwind. For as much as she accomplished, it was like she had three hands.

  But… what was she doing here?

  “Traffic isn’t great,” she said, frowning down at her phone. “Let me crate Pippin for you and we’ll get going, yes? Did you remember to eat? If not, we can stop at—”

  “Rachel-Lyn,” he sputtered, his feet and mouth both unfreezing at the same time. He crossed the room, snatching his spare key out of her hand as his heart tried to pound out of his chest. “What are you doing? You have to go. It’s almost six!”

  She looked up, surprised. “That’s what I’m saying. We have to go. The caterer is waiting. Grab your camera while I take care of Pippin.”

  Pippin wagged her tail at mention of her name, trotting obediently after Rachel-Lyn toward her crate.

  “I can’t go see the caterer with you, Rachel-Lyn,” Micah said, wiping his hands on the sides of his pants again as his stomach twisted into a knot. A fuzzy memory of promising to do just that was teasing the back of his mind, but he didn’t have time to chase it down, because Zach would be there any minute. “Um, I need you to go, actually. I’m sorry. I’ve got other plans.”

  “You… what?” she asked, whirling back to face him. “Micah, what plans? With Sam? What are you talking about? You said you’d come help me finalize the rehearsal dinner menu tonight.”

  Had he? Shoot. He was pretty sure he had. He felt guilty for not remembering, especially after she’d driven all the way over to get him, but guilty or not, there was no way he was going to let his sister steamroll him into canceling. Not with Zach.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again, trying to keep a smile from breaking out at the thought of his impending terrifying-wonderful date. “I really can’t do it tonight, Rachel-Lyn.”

  The thought that he was actually about to go out with Zach was making Micah so nervous he almost couldn’t stand it, but he also kind of felt like he wanted to burst with excitement. Rachel-Lyn would just have to understand. Even if he ended up embarrassing himself completely and messing up every dating rule in the book, he was definitely doing this. Excitement was going to win over both nerves and guilt, because Zach…

  Zach had been counting down the hours, too.

  And Zach had sent him all the shades of blue.

  And even now, a week later, Micah’s fingers still tingled with the memory of Zach’s face.

  Rachel-Lyn was staring at him like he’d grown a second head, her mouth hanging open and her eyes as wide as saucers, and the sight made Micah laugh out loud. He may not be that great at reading expressions, but he had no trouble with this one. Maybe he didn’t actually say no that often, but he couldn’t remember Rachel-Lyn ever being at a loss for words before… ever.

  “What?” she managed, finding her tongue finally. “Why can’t you come with me?”

  “Um, I’ve got a date?”

  “A date?” she repeated incredulously, looking around the room as if she expected to find a man lurking behind the furniture whom she’d somehow overlooked so far. “Tonight?”

  “Yes?” Micah grinned, unable to hold it in anymore. “And he’s going to be here any second, Rachel-Lyn, so please, will you go?”

  “Who is this man, Micah?” she asked, her gaze sharpening with a familiar look of concern as she totally failed to move toward the door. “Where did you meet him? Do we know him? Have you told Amanda or Mam? Is this the first time you’ve gone out with him? Why didn’t you tell us you were dating? Where is he taking you? Are you going to—”

  “Rachel-Lyn,” he interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Stop, okay? His name is Zach, and he’s really nice. Not a serial killer, I promise. And I’m sorry about the catering thing, but I really don’t have time for the third degree. He’s picking me up at six, which is like, now.”

  “But, musje—”

  Whatever she’d been about to say was cut off by another knock at the door—Zach’s knock this time, it had to be—and Micah’s nerves flared back to life, completely overriding his excitement for a moment. Then Pippin barked, jolting him out of it, and excitement tumbled back in, making him forget all about t
hrowing up or embarrassing himself or the fact that Rachel-Lyn was still standing by Pipp’s open crate as if she’d grown tree roots or something.

  Micah pressed his hands against his cheeks, trying to tame the smile that was stretching them wider than they’d ever been intended to go, and headed for the door, heart trying to pound its way out of his chest as he pulled it open.

  “Hi,” he said, forgetting to stop the smile as he looked up at Zach.

  Zach.

  Here.

  In his doorway.

  Smiling back at him exactly the way Micah remembered from the first time, as if Zach was totally happy to be exactly where he was. With Micah.

  “Hi, Micah.” Zach had an armful of color. Flowers, Micah figured out when Zach held them out. “These are for you.”

  “Oh,” Micah said, that same warm and wonderful feeling he’d had when he’d first seen Zach rushing through him all over again. “Really? They’re all—”

  “Blue,” Zach finished, his dimples popping out.

  “All the blues,” Micah said, delighted. He had no idea what the flowers were called. They seemed to be all different kinds, and he kind of wanted to stare at them forever. Smell them. Touch every single one and find a way to imprint the moment with all five of his senses.

  Well, not taste, actually, because that would be gross.

  He tried and failed to hold in the cheek-splitting smile that was happening again—still—and took the flowers from Zach. Was it a normal part of crushing on someone to feel this kind of overwhelming happiness? Was he going to go through the whole night feeling like he was full of champagne bubbles? Zach had mentioned going out to dinner, but was Micah actually going to be able to eat when he couldn’t seem to tame the too-big grin on his face?