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

by Stella Starling

  “Absolutely,” Zach said, taking Micah’s board from him.

  Micah wandered down the beach with his camera while Zach changed into his wetsuit, watching him. He hadn’t ever met anyone who saw the world quite like Micah did—who was quite as eager to jump in and try each and every thing, and who seemed to find a way to enjoy each one of them. Even the traffic jams.

  It was refreshing.

  Zach grinned, wandering over to join him once he was done getting himself ready. Micah was crouched near the surf, taking pictures of… rocks?

  “Look at this one, Zach,” Micah said excitedly, seeming to sense his presence even before Zach said anything. “What color would you call it?”

  “Green,” Zach said, smiling even wider, because he already knew that wouldn’t be good enough for Micah.

  “Hmmmmmm,” Micah said, his cute little frown confirming Zach’s predication. “Maybe. But it’s more than that, too, isn’t it?” He tipped his head to the side, staring down at the more-than-green rock intently. “When I was standing back there—” by the surfboards, “—all the rocks just looked like one color, but they’re not, are they? And the rest are all browns and reds and grays. Why is this one different?”

  “I don’t know,” Zach said, smiling. He’d wondered the same thing about Micah, actually. He could list a dozen things he liked—the way Micah looked; how, once his shyness was out of the way, he was so open about everything; his good heart; his enthusiasm for just about everything; how good he felt in Zach’s arms—but the spark?

  It was more than all of those things, too.

  “Ready to teach me to surf?” Micah asked, bouncing to his feet and immediately stumbling over the rocks. Zach’s arm shot out to catch him, and Micah threw him one of those brilliant smiles that Zach doubted he’d ever get enough of, chattering away about the surfing tips he’d picked up online as he found his balance and plunged fearlessly back toward the part of the beach where they’d left the surfboards, tripping a dozen more times along the way.

  Zach grinned, scooping up the green rock before following.

  “Want a bottle of water?” he asked, opening his gear bag and tucking the rock inside as Micah changed into his wetsuit. When Micah nodded, Zach pulled one out. Condensation had made an envelope stick to the side of it, and Zach plucked it off, handing the water over while he frowned down at the letter. He vaguely remembered shoving mail into his bag the week before, but he’d forgotten all about it.

  And this letter? He’d have been better off just tossing it into the recycle bin.

  Pearce Investments.

  Zach ran a finger over the thick paper and pretentious, embossed logo, only realizing he’d been neglecting Micah when he felt his touch—a tentative hand, resting against his cheek. Zach looked up.

  “Sorry,” Micah said, jerking his hand back. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “You can always touch me,” Zach reminded him, pulling Micah’s hand back and pressing it against his face again. He crumpled the envelope up and shoved it back into his gear bag.

  “You don’t look happy,” Micah said, worrying his lip between his teeth as he traced Zach’s face with his strong fingers, as if needing the tactile confirmation. His eyes darted down to the bag, then back up to meet Zach’s. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yep,” Zach said, the word coming out too sharply. He turned his face to kiss Micah’s palm in a silent apology for his abrupt tone, then tossed the bag back down on the sand and grabbed his board. “Let’s surf.”

  “Okay,” Micah said, squinting up at Zach for a minute before picking his board up, too. He smiled, but without his usual brightness. “Um, I guess I’m still not very good at faces.”

  Zach sighed. He was an ass. It wasn’t Micah’s fault that Zach’s mood had taken a nosedive. A new relationship didn’t need the weight of the kind of emotions John Pearce always inspired in him, but for all Micah’s trouble with vision, he saw Zach too clearly for Zach to get away with pretending he was fine. Micah wore his heart on his sleeve 24/7, and even though he wasn’t pushing Zach, it was obvious that Zach’s little flare of irritation had dampened his spirits.

  “Sorry,” Zach said, meaning it. “Everything really is okay. It looks like I got some mail from my father, and it just caught me off guard.”

  Micah cocked his head to the side, bringing his hand back up to rest against Zach’s face. “Are you two close?”

  “No,” Zach said with a humorless laugh. If there was ever a word that didn’t fit…

  “Okay,” Micah said after a minute, when Zach didn’t offer anything more. Not pushing, but also not pretending that he didn’t see how Zach was affected.

  His fingers traced Zach’s lips… the dimple in his chin… the tension in his throat, then came back to rest against Zach’s cheek, the touch soothing him like a balm.

  “Whatever the letter is, I’m sorry your dad makes you feel this way, Zach.”

  “Thanks,” Zach said, holding Micah’s hand against his face. He kind of loved that Micah needed to touch him all the time. It wasn’t something he’d ever have thought to ask someone to do, but with Micah, he’d already grown addicted to it.

  Some of the tension eased out of him. He’d had twenty-nine years to get over wanting a single thing from his father, but apparently he still hadn’t managed it. Usually, he could burn off his resentment with a good, hard rush of adrenaline… but Micah’s touch seemed to work, too.

  Zach opened his mouth to suggest they surf—determined to shake off the dark cloud that had come over him—but instead, what came out was something different.

  “My mother used to be John Pearce’s secretary.”

  “That’s your dad?”

  Zach nodded. “When my mother got pregnant, she figured I’d be her ticket to marriage and she’d have full access to his bank account. Which, if we’re honest, was always the thing she found most attractive about him. Her plan backfired, though.”

  “He didn’t marry her?”

  “Nope,” Zach said, popping the P-sound. “She did get some of his money, though, but not enough for her liking. My father wasn’t stingy, but it wasn’t the same as if Mom had managed to become Mrs. Pearce. He made sure to take care of us financially, but she was never happy with the size of her monthly support check. ”

  Or with the fact that she’d actually been stuck with a kid, when all she’d really wanted was the boost in social status and the money.

  Zach had always considered his mother’s ranting about his father’s refusal to “do the right thing” a bit of an irony, given that she’d been the one who’d come up with the getting-pregnant-to-force-him-into-marriage plan in the first place. Still, her displeasure with that had been nothing compared to how pissed off she’d gotten when Zach had turned eighteen and John Pearce had started issuing those pay-off checks in Zach’s name instead of hers.

  Money that Zach had neither wanted, nor ever touched.

  “So, did they split custody?” Micah asked, still petting Zach’s cheek.

  “No,” Zach said, shaking his head. “I’ve never even met the man.”

  “You… what?” Micah blurted, looking a little bit confused and a lot outraged. “Why…?”

  “He never wanted children.” Of course, neither had Zach’s mother. “My father had told her that from the very beginning of their affair, and one of the conditions of his financial support was that he not be bothered with anything else.”

  “What? He… but, Zach… that’s… it’s… I don’t… ” Micah was practically stuttering with indignation on his behalf. “What a… a prick.”

  Zach laughed, falling the tiniest bit in love. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Micah come close to swearing before, and it touched something inside him that this particular first would be on his behalf. He tugged him closer, dodging the surfboard tucked under Micah’s arm, and stole a kiss.

  “It’s okay, baby, really, but thank you. Trust me, I’m better off without him in my life.”


  “But how could he not want to know you?” Micah asked, sounding completely baffled. “Maybe this letter…?” He pointed toward the envelope Zach had shoved in his gear bag.

  Zach shook his head. “Whatever it’s about—” probably nothing more than a statement of account for the money that kept accumulating, despite Zach repeatedly informing his father’s assistant that he didn’t want it, “—it’s not going to be a sudden desire to be part of my life. In fact, I guarantee that whatever it is, it’s nothing I’m interested in.”

  Micah chewed on his lip for a second, then pushed up onto his tiptoes and gave Zach a kiss so sweet it almost hurt.

  “He’s missing out, not knowing you.”

  “I think I’m the one who’s been missing out,” Zach said, Micah’s sincerity touching him. Zach ran a thumb over Micah’s lips, “Not knowing you all these years.”

  Micah blushed. Then he grinned. “Well, you do now. And you promised to teach me to surf, so…”

  “And I always keep my promises,” Zach said, the brilliance of Micah’s smile making his own heart lighter. “Come on, goofy foot.”

  “I said I think I’m goofy footed,” Micah said, following Zach down to the water. He laughed when he tripped over nothing at all, adding, “See what I mean? It’s not even just in surfing.”

  Zach laughed, too. And even though he usually surfed for the kind of rush he’d never be able to get from the mellow waves here at the private little rocky beach, with Micah at his side? Small waves or not, he got the rush anyway.

  10

  Micah

  “Do you think this is the last one, Amanda?” Micah whispered to his sister, trying to do it without moving his mouth.

  Rachel-Lyn’s wedding had been beautiful. All her planning had paid off in a ceremony that had gone off without a hitch, but the formal family photos?

  Endless.

  “Just a few more, I think,” Amanda said, laughing at his answering expression just as the photographer’s flash went off.

  “Oh, that’s cute,” the photographer said. “Do you want me to add in a few candids, Rachel-Lyn?”

  “Oh my God,” Micah said, rolling his eyes. “Amanda, I think you just made it so we’ll have to do even more of these.”

  “Shush, musje,” Rachel-Lyn said, leaning over to swat his hand, all glowing and happy despite herself. Marriage looked good on her. “I’m only getting married once, and I want some nice shots to remember it by.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ll remember today regardless, honey,” Gary, her new husband, said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I know I will.”

  He leaned in to whisper something else into Rachel-Lyn’s ear, and then the two started giggling together and looking at each other like two animated heart-eye emojis. Micah grinned despite himself, curbing his impatience.

  Well, mostly.

  He glanced over at Zach, deep in conversation with Sam, and Amanda squeezed his hand, laughing.

  “Don’t worry, Micah. Zach will be fine. I like him.” She winked. “Sam will look after him until we’re done here.”

  Was he that obvious? Micah bit his lip, knowing for sure he’d just turned bright red when Amanda laughed again and gave him another squeeze. He cut another look at Zach and Sam, laughing together about something near the steps of the church where the photographer had arranged the family for photos.

  Micah had thought the tuxes he and Sam had been fitted for were pretty sharp, but Zach in his dress blues?

  So… hot.

  And Amanda may have been a little bit right about the reason for Micah’s impatience, but it wasn’t because he was worried about Zach—Zach seemed at ease anywhere, and not even the minor third degree he’d gotten from the three M’s earlier had seemed to faze him—Micah was just impatient because he wanted to be over there with him. He wanted to feel Zach lace their fingers together again, like they were meant to be connected… or have him do that lovely, lovely thing again, where he put a hand low on Micah’s back as they walked… or lean down to whisper more funny things in Micah’s ear, the tickle of his warm breath always making his skin feel… glittery.

  The photographer rearranged them again, taking endless shots as he chattered with Rachel-Lyn and Gary about the memories they were making, and then—finally—they were done.

  “Oh my God,” Micah said as soon as he joined Zach and Sam. “That was endless. Thank God it’s over.”

  “The pictures are going to turn out really well, though,” Zach said, smiling down at him in a way that made Micah’s heart flutter. He took Micah’s hand—exactly the way Micah had just been hoping for—and added, “The wedding party looks incredible.”

  “The ‘wedding party,’ huh?” Sam repeated, laughing. “Micah does look kinda decent in the tux, I’ll admit, but dude, you’re so obvious. You’re totally sprung on Micah, hard.”

  Zach grinned.

  “Sam,” Micah said, his face getting so hot that he seriously wondered whether it might melt off.

  He glanced up at Zach nervously, but he hadn’t even batted an eye at the sprung comment. In fact, he was smiling down at Micah with full dimple, and the way he’d started stroking his thumb across the back of Micah’s hand, down where no one could see? It kind of made it feel like maybe Zach was a little sprung on him.

  Micah’s heart started to do whatever you’d call something that was even faster and more exciting than a flutter.

  Sam looked at him and snorted, shaking his head. “Sprung,” he muttered under his breath, a smile hovering around his mouth. Then, louder, he added, “But I’m telling you… Vegas, dude. Didn’t we make a pact? If we ever get married, it’s gonna be in, out, and done. Two hours for photos is ridiculous, especially when I know for a fact your sister has a killer reception planned that will be much more fun than posing in these monkey suits.”

  “It was only forty-five minutes, Sam,” Tanja said, tsking as she walked over to join them. She reached out and brushed something off Sam’s collar. “And if our musje ever gets married, we are going to need some nice photos of that happy day, yes? And I do not mean the kind that includes Elvis officiating.”

  Sam laughed, but Micah cringed, pretty sure that having his mother talk about that in front of Zach—Zach, whom he’d only known for three weeks and really, really liked—was a dating faux pas at this point.

  Amanda joined them, too, doing a scary-accurate job of reading Micah’s mind.

  “Don’t tease Micah about getting married in front of his first boyfriend, Mam,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ll embarrass him.”

  He knew she was trying to save him, but seriously? Marriage talk and springing the B-word? That was even worse.

  Micah bit back a groan, wondering what it would take to just sink right down into the ground and disappear. Or, better, if there was any possible way that Zach had missed the last sixty seconds of conversation… despite the fact that it had happened right in front of him.

  Not that Micah didn’t want Zach to be his boyfriend—not that he didn’t sort of think of him that way already, in the privacy of his own mind—but it for sure wasn’t something they’d ever talked about. And yes, Zach had taken him out a few times after the surfing lesson, and they’d had some crazy hot make-out sessions, and Micah was most definitely sprung on him, but… still. He was pretty sure that being actual boyfriends was a big deal, not something that just got assumed.

  He cleared his throat, too nervous to look over at Zach… even though Zach was still holding his hand, which meant that he could almost definitely feel the way Micah’s hand had started to sweat.

  “Um, Amanda, Zach’s not my—”

  Rachel-Lyn interrupted, holding up the fluffy white skirt of her wedding dress as she rushed over.

  “Gary and I were just talking, and the photographer’s going to get just a couple more pictures for us, okay?” she said, still all full of wedding-glow and looking extra beautiful as she beamed at them. “We’re going to do candids this time, and we
want everyone in these ones. Sam, that means you, and bring your boyfriend, too, musje, okay? It’ll be fun.”

  “More photos?” Sam groaned. “Rachel-Lyn, you’re already married, right? Can’t we just get to the party?”

  “Sam,” she said, swatting his shoulder. “This is important.”

  “Life and death,” Sam agreed, nodding solemnly.

  “You’ll be dead if you don’t come be in my wedding photos, Samuel Tseng.”

  He cracked up. “Fine, Rach, I don’t blame you. After all, what would your wedding pics be without me in them?”

  Rachel-Lyn’s lips pressed together like she was trying not to laugh, too. “Tasteful?” she asked.

  “Shut up,” Sam said, still grinning. He brushed some imaginary lint off his lapel. “Have you seen how hot I look in this thing? ’Cause I know for sure that one of your bridesmaids noticed.”

  Rachel-Lyn’s eyebrows shot up. “Which one?”

  “He’s talking about Becky,” Amanda said. “Didn’t you see our little Sammy flirting with her earlier, Rach?”

  Micah covered his mouth, trying not to laugh when Sam actually blushed.

  “No,” Rachel-Lyn said, mouth dropping open in surprise. “Really? Sam, she’s ten years older than you.”

  “Hello, double-standard much?” Sam said, pointing at Zach without a trace of remorse for throwing Micah under the bus.

  It worked, too. The three M’s all whipped around as one, turning their attention on Zach with a laserlike intensity. Before any of them could get a word out, Micah stepped in front of Zach, nodding back toward where Gary was waiting on the church’s steps.

  “Rachel-Lyn, the pics? The photographer probably can’t wait forever, you know.”

  Her attention instantly shifted. “You’re right, musje. Come on. He said he wants to group us with Gary’s family for this first one.”

  “Way to jump in and protect your man, dude,” Sam said under his breath, winking as he followed Rachel-Lyn toward the steps.