“It’s okay.” Mark pressed a kiss to the top of Isaiah’s head, then seemed to realize what he’d done. “Sorry. I just... I hate seeing you sad.”
“It’s okay. I like this.” Isaiah sagged against him, letting the cool breeze coming off the ocean wash over them both. “It helps.”
“I like it too.” Mark sounded genuinely surprised. “I liked massaging you. Just wish I was better at it.”
“You get any better at it and I’ll be a puddle of goo.” Isaiah laughed. “But you can practice on me whenever you want. Add to your skill set.”
“Maybe after your bath.” Mark still hadn’t released him, and Isaiah wanted to freeze this moment. He’d needed this hug in the worst way, more than he’d even realized.
“Now that’s incentive.” Isaiah groaned as Mark started rubbing his shoulders again. With another guy, Isaiah would ramp the flirting up a notch, offer to share the bath or shower. But this was Mark, and Isaiah was determined to let him lead. Even if the path was one that led straight to heartbreak for him. He just wasn’t strong enough to turn down more touches and affection from Mark.
* * *
“You’re doing the right thing here,” the lawyer said to Mark as he escorted him back to the lobby. “The motion to intervene will be well received. This way the court can appoint you financial guardian and this other kid—”
“Isaiah.” Mark wasn’t sure why he felt so protective, but he did. “His name’s Isaiah. And he’s doing a good job with the kids so far. He’s just so young. And I worry—”
“I know. And that’s why we’re getting you involved. The court will decide the best interests of the kids. And there’s absolutely nothing that says that you can’t be guardian and allow him extensive visitation. Or even continue to cohabitate.” The lawyer, Clancy Bolton, was an older man in a tight suit who liked throwing big words around to justify his hourly rate. Mark’s uncle had found him through a friend in the area.
Cohabitate. Was that really what he and Isaiah were doing? Some sort of weird roommate arrangement? He supposed it was, but it wasn’t nearly so clinical in his head. It was damn complicated, everything he felt for Isaiah—gratitude about how good he was with the kids, enjoyment of his company, something kind of like friendship, yet it was more tangled up than any other friendship he’d ever had.
“I’ll be in touch when the paperwork’s ready.” Mr. Bolton shook Mark’s hand, sending him on his way.
Mark hoped like heck he was doing the right thing. The hospital visit with Daphne had shown him how precarious their situation was, and he wanted to protect all of them. He never wanted to see Isaiah so afraid the state would take the kids again. He could trust Mark to make sure he’d always have access to them, even if he was going to be damn pissed that Mark had the lawyer. Which was why Mark hadn’t exactly told him about this meeting.
He’d need to bring it up carefully, work to not hurt Isaiah’s feelings. And since the paperwork would take some time, no sense in having the talk yet, not when everything was still so raw. Hell, neither of them was making much progress going through Cal and Daphne’s things. Isaiah had begged off the shower idea last night, claiming exhaustion after a bedtime battle that made Twister look like a sedate game.
But today he was bound to be sore again, moving stuff with his friends. And Mark had a plan. You just want an excuse to touch him again. And okay, maybe that was part of it. He’d been surprised how much he’d enjoyed massaging Isaiah, loving the feel of his muscles under his hands, the sounds Isaiah had made. In a way, it was even better than the making out had been, because there was no anxiety about where things might lead, what Isaiah might expect. The massage was something he could do for Isaiah, give him, and he’d been thinking about a repeat far more than he wanted to admit.
Isaiah did so much for Mark and the kids, it was only natural to want to do something for him, right? Mark stopped at the store on his way back home, then let himself into the quiet house. He had a few hours before he’d need to pick up the girls, and it was more than enough time to tackle the bathroom. He could still remember when his parents had remodeled the master suite—putting in the huge soaking tub and walk-in steam shower with multiple heads. Danielle had clearly had some work done during the past few years—changing the paint from cream to teal and updating the cabinet hardware and fixtures.
Emotions welled up in his throat as he saw Danielle’s makeup still on the vanity, Cal’s shaving stuff. The master bed was still unmade, like the occupants might be back at any time. Triage. Assess. Evaluate. One step at a time. He fell back on his training, breaking down the impossible into a series of steps he could complete without falling apart. Strip the bed. Fresh linens from the hall closet. Pick up and put away all personal items lying around. They could sort through the belongings at a later date, but hidden away in the closet was better than leaving them out where each glance could be a fresh slap of grief.
He did the same thing in the bathroom. Fresh linens. A quick clean so it smelled like cleaner not Dani’s perfume, then putting all the items on the vanity in a box so Isaiah wouldn’t have to see them. Later, Isaiah would probably want Cal’s watch and cufflinks, but right now, Mark wanted a neutral space for him.
Running close for time, he set up the rest of his surprise, then hurried to get the girls. It was his first time doing pickup without Isaiah, and they fussed a bit about where Isaiah was. Understandably, they didn’t handle changes in their routine well, always looking for reassurance that he and Isaiah were coming back. Hell, Mark had felt similarly adrift after his own parents died, and he’d been in his twenties. It was no wonder that the kids were having some difficulties. He quadruple-checked their buckles—he’d given less attention to parachute rigging before—and promised them they could watch TV when they got home.
“What do you want for lunch?” he asked as he pulled into traffic, far more careful than usual.
“Fish sticks!” Zoe demanded.
“Sure.” That much cooking even Mark could do, and he was just getting a baking sheet loaded with fish sticks and French fries into the oven when he heard voices in the driveway.
Isaiah was back with Mark’s SUV, and he was followed by a truck driven by a guy Mark had seen at the funeral. Another guy hopped out of the passenger side. Mark checked on the girls and their video, then popped his head out of the patio to say hello.
“You back? Need me to take Liam in here with the girls?” he asked.
“Sure. He’s asleep.” Isaiah unsnapped the car seat carrier from the SUV and brought it over to Mark. “These are my old roommates, Tony and Lonzo. We couldn’t quite fit everything in one load so they followed me over.”
Mark waved at the guys before accepting the car seat. Tony was tall and buff, the kind of muscles that came from hours at the gym with the accompanying spray-tan and streaked hair. Lonzo was closer to Isaiah’s height and slightly built.
“How’s your neck?” he asked Isaiah. “Maybe you should take the kids, let me help unload?”
“It’s fine. Worrywart.” Isaiah patted his arm before heading back to his friends. “We’ve got this.”
Well okay then. Duly dismissed, Mark took the baby into the house. He got Liam settled in his crib for a nap, then returned downstairs, checked on the girls, and served their lunch. Through the open patio door, he could hear Isaiah and his friends joking.
“Man, you’ve got a sweet ocean view here.” Lonzo’s voice was higher than Isaiah’s deep timbre.
“Ha. He only cares about the view of all that SEAL candy jogging on the beach. Am I right?” Tony had a heavy New York accent.
“I’m here for the kids.” Isaiah sounded tired.
“No more hookups? Ike, how you gonna live?” Tony laughed, but Mark didn’t. He scrubbed hard at the kitchen counter. Of course, a guy like Isaiah was going to chafe at living with Mark. It was only a matter of time. He needed sex and par
tying.
He didn’t catch Isaiah’s reply because the guys took another load of boxes into the garage. When they came back, Tony was still running off at the mouth.
“You should come out Friday night. Get a sitter or something. It’s been too long since we really hung out.”
“I can’t leave the kids,” Isaiah said.
“What he really means is that he’s not hooking up with you again. He’s over his ill-advised crush.” Lonzo laughed as the guys collected more boxes from the back of the SUV.
Hell. He shouldn’t be surprised that Isaiah had fucked around with his roommate. He liked sex, something he’d made clear even as a brash virgin. He got around, flitting from one crush to the next. He’d undoubtedly tell Mark that the encounter had meant nothing, and probably be telling the truth. As good as it had felt to tell Isaiah that he was asexual and to have Isaiah treat it like a normal thing, he knew they were still oceans apart on how they viewed sex. Isaiah required sex, on some fundamental level, while Mark could go months and months without thinking about it unless he had one of his rare crushes.
He felt silly, foolish even, daydreaming about massages and baths and couch cuddle time with a guy like Isaiah. He could never be what Isaiah wanted, what he needed.
Chapter Twelve
Mark was in a bad mood. Isaiah could tell because he used the grumpy bear voice for every character in the story he read the girls while Isaiah got Liam down. He’d been off all afternoon, ever since Isaiah’s friends had split, making himself scarce until dinner.
“Come on. You’ve earned some ice cream,” Isaiah said when Mark emerged from their room.
“I should get back to bills—” Mark protested but Isaiah steered him toward the stairs.
“You can’t do paperwork all day. You need to relax. Don’t you SEALs ever have fun?”
“I went for a run earlier.” Mark followed Isaiah down the stairs and into the kitchen. “And you should have fun too. Go out with your friends this weekend.”
Pausing midway to the fridge, Isaiah frowned. “Did you hear Tony giving me a hard time earlier? I’ve got no desire to go party, promise. Maybe we can rent a PG-13 movie for after the kids are asleep Friday. Get wild.” He laughed but Mark didn’t. “What? Don’t like that idea?”
“You’re a young guy. You don’t deserve to be stuck here—”
“Neither of us do. But here we are.” Isaiah changed his mind and went for a beer instead of the rocky road. “And honestly, I’m not pining for my friends—ow.” His neck twinged when he reached for the beer, protesting the day’s hard work.
“Here.” Mark grabbed the beer and opened it for him, then grabbed one for himself. “You overdid it again.”
“Yeah.” What he wanted even more than the beer was another Mark massage, but Mark still seemed hella grumpy, and Isaiah had already resolved to not push.
“I cleaned earlier.” Mark fiddled with the bottle. “In the master. You should take that hot soak. I...never mind.”
“What?” Isaiah had been about to refuse because no way could he face Danielle and Cal’s room after this long day, but Mark was twitchier than Isaiah had seen and now he was curious.
“I got you something. But it’s stupid—”
“You got me something?” Isaiah blinked. His family wasn’t big on presents at all, and in his friendship circle, he was usually the one doing nice things, not the other way around.
“Okay. Bring your phone.” Mark’s shoulders stiffened like he was heading to battle as he went back upstairs.
Well and truly intrigued now, Isaiah grabbed both beer and phone and followed him to the master. Mark didn’t flip on a light for the bedroom and Isaiah didn’t either, following him into the bathroom, a room that Isaiah had never had reason to be in before. The porcelain surfaces all gleamed—when Mark cleaned, he cleaned, thank you, Navy—and it looked not unlike an upscale hotel bathroom or spa magazine shoot, no trace of Cal and Danielle’s things. On the long granite counter, there was a large container of Epsom salts.
“You got those for me?” Isaiah’s chest suddenly felt too small for his heart.
“And some candles.” Mark indicated three simple pillar candles set near the tub. “I thought it might help you relax. That and the speakers.”
“Speakers?” Isaiah’s heart was seriously not going to recover from this.
“For your phone. I figured with the candles and your music, you might forget about where you were and let the water work its magic.”
“Magic, huh?” Isaiah was finding it hard to breathe what with his eyes burning and throat clogged. There was magic all right, and it was all in this man next to him.
“Water’s good for you.” Mark was blushing which was the most adorable thing ever.
“They do call you Wizard,” he joked because he needed to not give into all the feels swamping him.
“I can grab the baby monitor, listen for you while you do this...” Cheeks still stained dark pink, Mark backed toward the door.
“Mark.” Isaiah stopped him. “Thanks. I’m sorry if Lonzo and Tony upset you. I appreciate this a lot. Really.”
“They didn’t upset me.” Mark didn’t meet Isaiah’s eyes.
“Liar.”
“I just... Tony doesn’t really seem your type.”
“He’s not.” Isaiah laughed because the alternative was to curse. Of course, Mark would have heard Lonzo teasing about that. Fuck. Isaiah really was the king of inconvenient hookups. “I’m not sure I have a type. I just get these crushes, most of which are a terrible idea. And I’m trying to work on my taste. Tony was kind of...a low point.”
Mark’s frown deepened. “I see.”
“I know you think that I’m all about casual sex and partying, but that’s not all of who I am or what I want. Sure, sex to me is fun and awesome, but I’m also working on not making choices like Tony where I feel like shit afterward.”
He hadn’t really meant to confess that last part, but it was true. Sex felt amazing while it was happening, but he was kind of over the aftermath where he wouldn’t mind a repeat or the start of something, but the other guy was already onto the next thing.
“I don’t want you feeling like crap.” Mark had that going-to-do-battle look again. “These guys need to treat you better. You deserve to feel good.”
I deserve you. Isaiah wasn’t going to say it, but he felt it, big time. Hello, crush I thought was long gone.
“Thanks.”
“Enjoy your bath.” Mark’s cheeks stained pink again as he left the room. Isaiah kind of wanted to invite him to stay and keep him company with more talking, but he figured maybe they could work up to something like that, if Mark got more comfortable with him.
And there he went again, making future plans. But he couldn’t help it. He liked Mark too damn much. He stewed on that while he soaked in the tub, hunkering down so his sore neck and shoulders were submerged. He stayed in until the water turned tepid, then emerged, feeling better, as Mark had promised he would.
After drying off, he pulled on a pair of flannel pants. He skipped the shirt because he always ran hot while sleeping, and he was about to fall into bed when he remembered the baby monitor. Mark had been nice enough with all the effort for the bath. He didn’t need middle of the night duties as well. Besides, Isaiah wanted to say thank you again. Downstairs, he knocked on Mark’s door.
“Come in.”
Mark was lying on his bed on top of the covers reading on his phone. Like Isaiah, he’d switched to pajama bottoms and no shirt, leaving his chest bare. His very muscled, rather fuzzy chest that really belonged on a military-themed photoshoot, but Mark would never go for that, and Isaiah felt a little guilty macking on him. He licked his lips and tried to remember why he’d come down.
“Baby monitor?” he said at the exact same time Mark said, “Massage?”
“Oops.” Mark’s blushes were fast becoming Isaiah’s favorite thing. “I thought you’d come for your back rub. I did offer.”
“You did,” Isaiah said slowly. “But you seemed in a bit of a mood. I didn’t want to assume.”
“I’m working on my mood.” Mark waved off Isaiah’s concern. “And actually, I was just reading about techniques. Maybe I could try some out?”
Oh how Isaiah liked Mark’s scientific, inquisitive brain. “Only if you want to. You liked doing it yesterday?”
“A lot, yeah. Way more than I would have thought.”
“Well in that case, have at it.” Isaiah flopped down on his stomach next to Mark on the full-size bed. It was a tight squeeze, but he liked being this close to Mark, able to feel his body heat. “I’m at your mercy.”
Mark shifted around so he was kneeling next to Isaiah. “Tell me if it hurts.”
“Yup.” Isaiah was pretty sure the only thing aching would be his dick, which he was working way hard to ignore.
Mark started way more confidently than he had the day before, broad strokes up and down Isaiah’s neck and shoulders, digging in with his thumbs. Isaiah couldn’t help the groan that escaped.
“Sorry.” He didn’t want to make Mark uncomfortable by getting too into this. If this was mainly just medical science for Mark, he should probably hold still and stay quiet.
“No, I want you to tell me how it feels. I like how responsive you are.”
“Feels amazing. Go harder if you want.”
Mark used his strong fingers to really work at the knots in Isaiah’s upper back.
“Yes. That.” Isaiah wasn’t turned on so much as in heaven. He’d seldom had this kind of attention lavished on him, and it was addictive. His reaction seemed to embolden Mark, who threw a leg over Isaiah, straddling his ass.
“Think this will be easier,” Mark said before working Isaiah’s whole back with long strokes. Mark was hard against him, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to mention that, risk breaking this spell or presume that Mark wanted to act on it. Instead, he let himself fully enjoy the massage, drifting until Mark whispered, “Are you asleep?”
Squared Away Page 11
