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Was Jeff about to cry? The tension in his jaw looked new. He was blinking rapidly. Fighting tears, maybe. He cleared his throat three times in quick succession. “Damn, Cano,” he managed in a choked voice. “What are you trying to do to me here?”
“Alright, Master Sergeant,” Mateo said. “Your turn. What do you love most about Buckley?”
Buckley looked up like a gun had gone off, genuinely shocked that Mateo had phrased the question about him and not himself. “Babe. I don’t know if that’s fair. We just met.”
Undeterred, Jeff said, “He’s strong. He doesn’t get put off by other people’s bullshit. Including mine. Last night when we were dancing together, when I couldn’t scare him off with my hard-ass routine, I realized he was exactly who I’d want next to me if I was hurt. Exactly who I’d want holding my hand if I’d broken a bone.”
Breathless, Buckley felt rooted to his chair, in thrall to the older man’s sincerity and his gaze.
“And he’s got a sweet fucking pussy,” Jeff added.
Before he realized he’d thrown it at him, Buckley’s napkin hit Jeff square in the chest. Grinning like the Joker, the man caught it in one hand. Mateo was laughing too. And so was Buckley. Maybe they could both feel it. Jeff Braxton was melting, softening. Smiling like he hadn’t smiled the night before. Playing and teasing in a way that matched Buckley step for step.
“How would you know?” Mateo finally said. “You haven’t tasted it yet.”
“We’re going to fix that real soon. But first, how about some beach time? Too bad I didn’t bring my board.”
Instantly, Jeff seemed to realize his mistake. His smile vanished, replaced by flaring nostrils and a tense jaw. Suddenly he was staring at Mateo like he was afraid the guy might fall apart right there.
Adam’s apple bobbing, lips furrowed, Mateo stared down at his plate as he moved lettuce around with his fork.
Jeff looked like he was about to apologize for suggesting an afternoon of surfing to a man who’d almost drowned, but just then, Mateo jerked his head up and with a big beaming smile and said, “We could go swimming.”
“You sure, babe?” Buckley asked.
Avoiding Buckley’s eyes, Mateo shoveled a dangerously large bite of salad into his mouth. “Yeah, it’d be fun,” he said between barn-animal-sized chews. “I mean, it’s warm enough out, right?”
“I don’t have a suit,” Jeff said. “Maybe a hike or something. Do they have trails here?”
“I don’t know if there’re any on the property, but they’ve got some nearby,” Buckley added. “I could see if there’s a shuttle that—”
“No, no,” Mateo said, shoveling food into his mouth. “You’re my size. I think I brought two.”
Jeff licked his lips and swallowed. “It’s fine, Mateo. Don’t worry about it.”
“Come on. It’s a beach resort. We can’tnotgo to the beach.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Wassa matter, Master Sergeant? Worried I’m going to try to squeeze you into a Speedo. They’re board shorts. Promise. They won’t make you lookgaaaaaaay.”
Mateo smiled at both of them in turn, the kind of big, forced smile he gave people when he was nervous or hiding something. Then he announced he had to go to the bathroom and suddenly he was gone.
“I feel like a fucking idiot,” Jeff said after he was gone.
“Don’t.”
“Has he even been surfing since the accident?”
Buckley shook his head. “Won’t even get in a pool.”
“And now he wants to go swimming in the ocean? What’s going on here?”
“I think he’s trying to impress you.”
“Well, that’s the last thing he needs to do.”
“Who knows? Maybe it’ll work. It’s a weekend for trying new things, right?”