Page 102 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

He wasn’t going to bother checking his phone, though, no need to rub salt in the wound.

It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy his work because he did.

He just needed to find the balls to ask his boss to expand his team.

Between him and three other people, they were still doing the work of at least two people apiece.

Even one more person would help, and since he was the impromptu team leader, though he had no idea how that had happened, it was up to him to say something.

Rather than trying to come up with the right speech to use eventually, he just wanted to go home.

He could use a few hours to himself, so much so that he was willing to ignore the work he was technically taking home.

All he wanted was to kick his feet back, turn on some music, and zone out with a good book.

“Just get off work?” Terry asked, jogging up to his side.

“Yeah, long day,” Marco said, hoping the comment would be a good hint.

“Oh. That sucks. Need to unwind, huh?”

“That’s what I’m looking forward to.”

“Hey, if you want, this is a good time for you to take me up on one of my patented massages. I’m telling you, they’re worth experiencing at least once.”

Subtle was not a word Marco would use to describe Terry. Overly persistent, unwilling to take a hint, and in a few cases, outright rejections, but not subtle.

“I’m going to have to pass...again,” Marco added. As much as he loved a man who knew what he wanted, he also appreciated one who understood boundaries. “Not feeling up to company tonight. Just going to be by myself, probably.”

In fact, he’d rather have half the neighborhood, people he’d only seen in passing, over rather than Terry.

Not that he was going to say that. Not only did that ping every sense of rudeness in his head, but he wasn’t stupid.

Growing up poor and in a rough neighborhood had taught him many things, and one of them was that you didn’t piss off guys who were bigger than you.

“You do too much by yourself,” Terry told him.

Marco shrugged. “I do just fine. Don’t need to worry about me.”

“Hey, when are you coming back to the gym?”

“C’mon, Terry, I told you I moved to the other one.”

“Yeah, but mine is better. I mean, I’m there.”

It was said with what Marco was sure Terry believed was a charming grin.

The same one he used when he was trying to show off the effects of his workout routine.

Or when he was talking about his great apartment.

The one he decorated himself and that totally belonged in a magazine.

Or the new bike he’d put together himself because, of course, he could be a grease monkey too.

The list of self-praises Terry could sing was numerous, and Marco wondered if there was an actual end to the list, though he wasn’t willing to find out.

“It’s just easier because it’s where my friends go,” Marco lied, spotting the front steps to his apartment building with relief.

“Well, you should still stop in and see me sometimes. It’s not nearly as fun without you around,” Terry told him.

“I’ll think about it,” Marco said, taking the first step and freezing when a hand closed around his elbow.

He turned to find Terry staring at him with a frown. “I mean it. I’d like to see more of you.”

Marco sighed, too tired and exasperated to keep up the illusion. “I know, Terry. And I’ve told you I appreciate it. Everyone likes to be shown a bit of attention now and again. But I also told you you’re not my type, not like that. Okay? So please.”

And before he had to deal with the wounded expression that always came with rejection, he turned to walk off. His stomach twisted when Terry’s hand squeezed his elbow harder, keeping him there.

“You haven’t even given me a shot,” Terry said, anger filtering into his voice.

“Terry, let go of me,” Marco said evenly, heartbeat thudding against his chest.

“C’mon,” Terry insisted, brow furrowing. “You don’t need to be a cocktease about the whole thing. You’ve got my interest. Stop playing hard to get.”

Marco tried to jerk his arm away. “I’m not playing anything, Terry. I said no, I mean no, now let me go.”

He honestly didn’t care what Terry had to say next, and he turned to try to fling his body away, hoping it would break Terry’s grip. As he did so, he heard a yelp behind him, and Terry’s fingers went slack. Marco stumbled away before turning to face him, heart thundering now.

Terry stood half a foot from the bottom step, back arched, his face twisted into a grimace of pain. The hand that had been holding Marco’s elbow was at his side, fingers clenched. His other arm was bent painfully behind him, and the man pushing Terry’s arm up his back bore an angry snarl.

“Carter?” Marco asked.

Carter ignored him, snarling at Terry as he did something that made Terry whimper. “I think he wants you to fuck off. What do you think?”

Terry whimpered something that sounded affirmative.

“Then what do you think you should probably fucking do?” Carter asked, eyes glittering dangerously.

Terry whimpered again, followed by a sharp cry as Carter moved his arm, twisting further.

“Carter,” Marco warned, wincing.

“I’m sorry,” Carter told Terry, voice heavy with malice. “I couldn’t quite make that out. Try again.”

“I should…” Terry gasped out, “fuck off.”

“Yeah, and I think you should stay fucked off for, I don’t know,” Another movement of his arm and another moan from Terry, “ever. Deal?”

“Deal!” Terry cried out.

“Hey there!” A shrill voice from up above called down. “You stop that! I’m calling the police!”

“Goddammit,” Carter snarled.

Marco put a hand to his brow, peering up to see one of his upper-floor neighbors glaring down at them. Well, to be more specific, she was glaring down at Carter and Terry.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Palmer,” he assured the elderly woman. “My friend was just helping me.”

Mrs. Palmer gave him a wary look but spared him her true glare, saving that for the other two. “Are you sure?”

“Carter, stop, you’re going to break something,” Marco told him

Carter turned his eyes to him. “Seriously?”

Marco sighed. “I’m safe, okay? Don’t get yourself in trouble for him.”

Carter huffed and pushed Terry down the sidewalk.

The taller man stumbled, catching himself on a light post. He looked back only once, his eyes shining with something that made Marco’s stomach twist. Terry said nothing, though, all but tripping over himself as he hurried down the street, getting away from the two of them as fast as possible.

“See?” he told Mrs. Palmer brightly. “Just fine.”

She nodded grimly, though her suspicious glance at Carter made Marco wonder if she would call the cops anyway.

“What the fuck,” Carter snarled. “I thought you were supposed to live in a good neighborhood.”

“I do,” Marco said faintly, watching Terry disappear around a corner. “But nowhere in the world is ever really safe, is it?”

“It’d be a hell of a lot safer if you’d just hit the fucker. Jesus, Marco.”

Marco gave him a wry smile. “Do I look like a fighter to you?”

Carter looked him over, the darkness in his gaze disappearing. Something bright flickered there momentarily, bringing out the yellow of his hazel eyes and disappearing a second later.

Carter’s shoulders slumped. “No. But that doesn’t mean you can’t defend yourself. There are ways for someone like you to hold your own in a fight.”

“Someone like me,” Marco repeated in amusement.

“You know, little,” Carter grunted. “Pretty.”

“Pretty.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Marco couldn’t help but laugh at the snarl.

It didn’t sound serious, even if Carter was trying to come across as mean.

His heart finally slowed as he looked Carter over.

The man was dressed in a pair of regulation pants, boots, and the solid, olive-colored shirt he recognized from Fort Dale.

His face was already losing some of its previous discoloration, though the dark circles under his eyes were still there.

Marco had to admit, the man looked damn good.

“Thank you,” Marco told him seriously.

Carter snorted harshly. “Whatever. I’m going to teach your dumb ass a couple of things.”

“I would appreciate that.”

“And you’d better fucking use them if you get into a dumbass situation like that again.”

“I promise to try my best.”

“Jesus,” Carter muttered.

Marco cocked his head. “And not that I’m going to complain, and not because you probably just saved me from an ugly situation, but what are you doing here?”

Carter huffed, stomping down the sidewalk where Marco could see an opaque plastic bag. He peered into the bag, scowling as though whatever was inside offended his sensibilities, and stomped back over to Marco.

He thrust the bag out. “Bringing this.”

“This,” Marco repeated, taking the bag and peering inside. “Oh.”

It was the same Thai order Marco had made when Carter was in his apartment. Marco knew that because he’d been on autopilot when he’d ordered and had ordered double what he usually did.

Carter shrugged, apparently refusing to look at Marco. “You were stupid enough to let me into your house and feed me. Might as well give you the food back. I don’t really have a place for you to come crash in.”

It was a loaded statement, but Marco decided to leave the bullet in the chamber. Carter looked like he was struggling enough with this gesture, especially since Marco was pretty sure the man’s neck was turning red.

Carter, who’d stepped in twice to save someone else without hesitation. The man who’d probably waded into gunfire and explosions and who knew what else kind of danger. Who now was undone, made nervous and irritated by a simple kind gesture he’d started all on his own.

Marco took the bag, fingers brushing Carter’s before he released his hold on the handles. “And it’s the exact one too. My favorite. Thank you, Carter.”

“Stop thanking me,” Carter huffed.

Marco had to hold back a laugh. “Alright. But you also ordered the same amount, meaning there’s enough here for two people with big stomachs.”

“Subtle,” Carter grunted.

Marco smirked. “Fine. Carter, would you like to come up and help me eat some of the food you were nice enough to buy me?”

Carter shook his head. “No.”

“Okay,” Marco said, hoping the disappointment fluttering in his gut didn’t show on his face.

Carter grimaced. “I mean, no, I can’t. Not that I don’t want to.

I was only supposed to come into town to grab a couple of things and get back to the base.

Sergeant Dickhead is already going to have my ass for taking this long.

Any longer, and I won’t see the outside world for weeks instead of probably the next couple of days. ”

Which could be just another way of saying he did want to come up for a little while. Then again, Marco wasn’t going to push. As much as he suspected Carter was trying to be nice and maybe something a little more personal, Marco felt he probably shouldn’t push too hard.

“Well, I don’t want you in any more trouble,” Marco told him, meaning it.

Carter shrugged. “Worth it this time. Reynolds can go fuck himself for all I care. Shit, maybe that might make him less of a prick.”

And there it was again, the kindness, all wrapped up in bristling, angry wrapping paper.

Marco smiled. “Well, thank you again.”

“Marco.”

The growl only made him smile wider. “You did two things for me in five minutes. I’m thanking you for it. Get over it.”

Carter rolled his eyes. “Fine. You’re welcome.”

“Maybe,” Marco began, taking a backward step toward the door, “I’ll see you around again?”

“Yeah,” Carter grunted, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Marco, still smiling, turned to unlock the door to the apartment building.

“Ugh,” Carter grunted, turning Marco around. “Do you dance?”

Marco blinked. “Uh, yeah. Whether or not it’s good dancing is probably up to someone else, though.”

“Drink?”

“I’ve been known to partake, yes.”

“Work weekends?”

“Sometimes, but haven’t needed to in a while.”

Carter yanked his hand out of his pocket and shoved his phone toward Marco. “Here. Put your number in.”

“Is this your way of asking if I want to dance and get drinks with you?” Marco asked with a knowing smile, accepting the device.

“I don’t dance.”

“You just want to see me dance.”

Carter scowled. “Do you want to go or not?”

Marco typed his number in and handed the phone back with a smile. “I would. You didn’t strike me as a club person.”

Carter shrugged. “They’re alright. You do, though.”

“Not sure how to take that,” Marco admitted with a light laugh.

Which only made Carter scowl all over again. “Whatever. I’ll text you. Don’t know any places around here, but gotta make sure Sergeant Dickhead doesn’t try to lock me up in the fort over the weekend too.”

Marco chuckled. “Alright, let me know when you know.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“See you later, Carter.”

The man grunted and walked off, only glancing over his shoulder once when he was a few yards away. Marco beamed and thought it was a good sign that Carter didn’t scowl again.

He had no idea if he’d just been asked out on a date or if Carter thought he had to have a night out before he tried to sleep with Marco.

He also suspected that asking would have ruined the entire thing.

Marco could live with whatever Carter had in mind.

He knew how to enjoy things for however long they lasted.

Though, he wouldn’t have minded if it was, in fact, a date.