Page 251

Story: Men of Fort Dale

“I’m not going to the hospital,” Carter informed him, guessing what Marco was thinking.

“Yeah, didn’t think you were,” Marco grunted, putting everything back in the box.

“Glad we got that settled,” Carter huffed.

Marco chuckled, standing up to put the box back. “Stubborn kind of man, eh? That’s alright. I’ve known a few of those in my life.”

Carter glanced around to make sure he had everything. Now Marco had dragged him into his house and played nursemaid, there was no point lingering. He was sure Marco didn’t want some roughed-up asshole sitting around his apartment now he’d done his good deed. He knew not to overstay his?—

“Do you like Thai food?” Marco asked from the bathroom, voice echoing.

“What?” Carter asked, jerking his head up.

“Thai food. There’s a place a couple of blocks over that’ll still deliver if I call them.”

“At this time of night?”

“I might have a slight addiction and probably make up like...half their monthly sales. So yeah, they’ll deliver to me.”

Carter blinked, cocking his head. “Um, sure. Thai is fine.”

Marco smiled, pulling his phone out and heading to the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable. No point in staggering around.”

“You want me to stay?” Carter asked, bewildered.

“You don’t have to,” Marco said quickly, bending down to dig through his fridge. “But I’d feel better if you hung around for the night, just to make sure your injuries aren’t that bad. I don’t mind giving up my bed if you don’t want the couch. God knows I’ve napped on that thing more times than I can count.”

“You’re a very strange man,” Carter told him, frowning deeply.

Marco laughed, the sound loose and carefree. “You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me that, and I bet you won’t be the last.”

Carter shook his head, turning his attention away from Marco before he got accused of staring. “Fine. I’ll stick around for food.”

What a weird night.

MARCO

Although Carter’s expression, which always seemed stuck in some frown, was hard to read, Marco thought the man looked like a rabbit looking for a bolthole. He’d lapsed into a stony silence after Marco offered the man to stay and seemed content to keep his mouth shut.

That was okay with Marco. He wasn’t afraid of silence. He’d made the order standing in the kitchen and then returned to the living space to hand Carter a bottle of water. So long as he could keep feeding the man water while he was there, along with the food, Carter might be alright.

Thrown into relief by his apartment’s lights, Carter didn’t look all that scary. Without the stink of the nearby alley, the shadows of dim streetlights, and a bunch of people screaming and puking, Marco thought he was right. The man was handsome.

Sure, he had the sort of face that slipped all too easily into scowls, but Marco had known his fair share of grumpy-faced people before. He was dark-haired like Marco, but his eyes were hazel, catching the light with the occasional flicker of yellow-gold. Carter had pulled his outer shirt off while Marco was ordering the food.

Even with a tank top on, there wasa lotof skin stretched around thickly corded muscles and broad shoulders. Ink took over much of his arms and shoulders and curled around his neck. Other than a few darkening bruises on the man’s neck and arms, the only flaw was the occasional flash of white, puckered skin.

“You’re staring,” Carter said, startling Marco from his evaluation.

“Not staring,” Marco corrected hastily. “Uh, evaluating.”

Carter turned, brow coming up sharply. “Evaluating. If you wanted to fuck, you should have just said so.”

Marco snorted, shaking his head. “I was looking at your tattoos. And your scars.”

Carter’s eyes flicked to his arm, and Marco spotted a twitch of his fingers as though he wanted to cover the marks or brush his fingers along them.

“I’m guessing you weren’t a technician or someone working safely in a tent or building,” Marco said, curious and eager to get away from the subject of them fucking.

Table of Contents