Page 100 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

Even with a tank top on, there was a lot of 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.

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

He would not take advantage of an injured man who’d already dealt with enough for one night, not even if that man looked damned good on his couch.

“No,” Carter finally admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “Worked on a team, different teams. Seen enough action to give me some scars, yeah.”

Marco hummed thoughtfully. “Not on a team now?”

Despite thinking that Carter naturally looked irritable, Marco still spotted the shadow that flashed over Carter’s face.

“No.” One word, but Marco saw the tension in the man’s jaw.

Right, bad topic.

Marco eased back in his seat, tapping his knee. “So what do they have someone like you doing at the fort?”

“Whatever they tell me to do. Usually bullshit.”

“Kinda feels like you’d be pretty valuable to give training.”

“If I wanted to babysit a bunch of FNGs and chair sitters, I would.”

Marco didn’t think that was quite how it worked, but he wasn’t going to start an argument over it. “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing you don’t do medic work. Then again, your bedside manner might make people want to heal faster.”

Carter scowled, but Marco only chuckled.

It didn’t help that he was imagining Carter working alongside Dean.

Admittedly, Dean had a lot of experience dealing with grumps, but he wasn’t sure if the man would tolerate it in his workspace.

Marco was sure that for all his surliness and intimidating presence, he would meet his match in Dean, who was smaller and friendlier but, when riled up, had the attitude of a pissed-off mongoose.

“Why are we playing twenty questions anyway?” Carter asked. “Is this how you get a date?”

It was Marco’s turn to raise his brow. “I feel obligated to point out that you’re the only one who’s mentioned us dating or sleeping together. More than once, for the record.”

Carter scowled, and Marco thought he was starting to pick through the man’s expressions a little easier, though how he didn’t know. He suspected that particular scowl was thoughtful.

Marco shrugged. “Eh, I’m a curious sort. Call it a personality fault.”

“Maybe I will,” Carter grumbled.

“Or the fact that I have a stranger sitting on my couch, and I want to get to know him better.”

“Why?”

“Why shouldn’t I? You are a stranger, after all.”

“Says the guy who invited a stranger back to his house.”

“Not the first time I’ve done it.”

Carter’s head jerked up, brow stitched together suddenly. “What?”

Marco blinked innocently back at him. “What?”

He continued to hold his expression, keeping his eyes wide and his smile soft.

Marco honestly couldn’t tell if Carter was scandalized by whatever thought had flitted through his head or if he was just confused.

Not that it was cleared up when the scowl returned, throwing shadows over his bruised features.

Silence fell between them, and Marco plucked his phone from beside him.

He wasn’t reading anything in particular but didn’t want to get caught staring at Carter again.

The man was a bit of a dick, but he was also clearly willing to risk himself for the sake of a stranger.

It was a strange combination, but Marco was intrigued by it all the same.

Carter broke the silence with a grunt. “You live alone?”

With how low and rumbly Carter’s voice naturally sounded, Marco could have easily taken his words as a danger signal. Then again, considering how his stomach tightened at the sound, he could have taken it as a turn-on.

“Yeah,” Marco said, not looking up from his phone. “After living with other people for years, I told myself I wasn’t going to live with another person again unless I was desperate or dating them.”

“Weird.”

“Is it?”

“I’ve been living around other people for years, just kind of used to it. You seem like a people person, so it’s weird that you’d wanna live alone.”

Marco shrugged. “Maybe. But being a people person doesn’t mean I like being around people all the time.”

“It does get pretty fucking annoying.”

“That it does. Unless it’s the right people.”

“Guess you don’t have many of those around then.”

“Not yet.”

Carter snorted, fingers scraping restlessly at the seam of the couch cushion. “No family?”

“I’m an only child,” Marco said, finally putting his phone to the side now it looked like Carter had given up fighting conversation. “My parents weren’t exactly, uh, made of money. Weren’t even supposed to have me.”

Carter snorted, picking at a thread. “Your parents sound like mine.”

Marco tapped his phone, thinking of his dad, who he hadn’t spoken to for a few days.

“Not really their fault, you know? Shit happens, and they dropped the ball. I guess they could have given me up if they wanted to, but I hear that’s harder than it sounds.

They worked their butts off to take care of me, though, and then my dad had to do it twice as hard when my mom died. ”

Carter’s brows scrunched together again. “How did that happen?”

“Breast cancer. They caught it late. I was fourteen when it happened. My poor dad, he...well, it broke his heart. But I was too young to help with the bills, and they’d both been working when it happened.”

His father wouldn’t let him get a job until he was seventeen anyway, and then he wouldn’t take a dime from Marco. He insisted it was his job to bring in the money, and Marco needed to focus on his schoolwork and get ready for college.

Carter wrinkled his nose. “Okay, I changed my mind.”

“About?”

“Your parents and mine aren’t the same at all.”

Marco almost asked, but he saw the same shadow from before flash over Carter’s face as he looked down at his lap again.

Along with the bitterness lacing the man’s words, Marco would guess they wouldn’t be dragged on stage for parent of the year awards.

It might go a little way toward explaining some of Carter’s attitude.

“Sorry about your mom, though,” Carter mumbled. “She sounds like she was pretty cool.”

“She was,” Marco agreed, not bothering to hide the warmth in his voice. “She was a good woman, and I miss her sometimes.”

“I got a sister,” Carter said, still staring at the couch. “We don’t talk much, though.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Marco said, unsure if that was the right response.

Carter grunted. “It’s alright. She’s a couple of years younger than me. I didn’t see her much after she graduated and moved out.”

“What’d you do?” Marco asked, already having a good idea.

“Wasn’t any point in sticking around. And it wasn’t like I was going to do much else with my life. She got all the brains, so I signed up for the military.”

The detail that stuck out for Marco was what Carter had done before that. “So, not straight out of high school then.”

Carter shook his head. “No. We’re not close, but I wasn’t going to let her live with those assholes by herself. At least when I was there, I made sure they didn’t sell the food stamps for drinks or burn the place down.”

It was an unusually frank admission, but Marco didn’t think Carter completely understood the implications of what he was saying. He kept his peace, feeling Carter would probably close himself off.

He was impressed, though. Suddenly, Carter’s willingness to throw himself into danger for a stranger made a great deal more sense.

It was, after all, the same person who had stayed behind for a couple of years to make sure his younger sister wasn’t left in the care of ‘those assholes,’ which Marco guessed meant their parents.

“Talked to her recently?” Marco asked instead.

Carter shook his head. “She doesn’t even know I’m back in the States. She’s got her own life, and she’s doing good without a reminder of her fucked up childhood.”

Marco wasn’t so sure about that, but he didn’t think it was his place to correct Carter. He was spared having to come up with something when he heard the doorbell. Leaving his phone on the chair, he went to retrieve the food. When he came back, Carter was staring at him with a frown.

“What?” Marco asked, opening the bag to pull out the containers.

“I can’t believe they actually delivered. It’s almost two in the morning.”

Marco snorted. “I told you. Since moving here, I’ve ordered from that place at least once, if not twice a week. Well, it doesn’t hurt that I probably spoil the delivery people with tips, but they deserve it for legging it over here at god-awful hours of the night.”

“You live in a good neighborhood,” Carter said.

“You make that sound like an accusation,” Marco told him as he spread the food between them on the table.

Carter shrugged, eyeing the food. “Not really, but you do.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to be able to go outside without worrying if I’m going to get mugged,” Marco told him. “I make enough money that I can make sure that me and my dad don’t have to live with iron bars in our windows or find drunk people pissing on our building.”

“I think you’ll find that wherever you go,” Carter said, taking one of the containers Marco handed him.

“Yeah,” Marco admitted, shoveling food into his mouth. “But now it’s classy drunk people. With suits and ties.”

“Very classy,” Carter said as Marco talked with his mouth full.

Marco jabbed a spoon at the dish. “Eat, and you’ll see why I’m addicted to it.”

Carter rolled his eyes but did as he was told. He paused after the first spoonful, chewing slowly. Marco watched him cock his head before digging out another portion to put into his mouth.

“Told you,” Marco said with a smirk.

That earned him another scowl, but that one looked half-hearted as Carter began to chew more enthusiastically.

There wasn’t much talking after that, and Marco was content to settle into his seat as he devoured the food.

There was plenty of it, and they both ate to their heart’s content, and Marco noted there would be some left over as well.

“Fuck, that was a lot of food,” Carter murmured, flopping back against the couch and closing his eyes.

“I order with my stomach,” Marco admitted.

“You’ve got a bigger stomach than I thought,” Carter said.

“Oh yeah?” Marco asked with a laugh as he gathered up the leftovers.

“You eat like me or my guys. But you aren’t exactly, uh, doing the same shit we are.”

“Aw, that was a nice way of you telling me I’m not a badass in the military.”

“I just meant you take care of yourself.”

Marco patted his knee gently with a soft laugh. “Thank you for noticing.”

Carter scowled though he kept his eyes closed. “You serious about letting me crash here?”

“Make yourself comfortable,” Marco told him as he walked to the kitchen to put the food away.

It took him a few minutes to stack the containers in the fridge and throw the trash away. When he returned, he stopped as he spotted Carter slumped over, head on the armrest. He watched the steady rise and fall of the man’s chest and sighed.

“Military men, I swear to god,” Marco said with a chuckle.

He lowered the lights and gently spread a blanket over the sleeping man.

It didn’t surprise him that Carter somehow managed to scowl in his sleep.

He took a moment to pull out a pad of paper and jot down a message for him, setting it on the table directly across from Carter.

With that done, he quietly made his way up to the loft, turned on the bedside lamp, and got ready for bed.

He also grabbed a book. Because, unlike some people, he needed to unwind before passing out.