Page 119 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

And then, an hour later, the text he’d hoped for.

Free and clear. Going to make him wash up. Dean and Jessica are going to bring him over .

He bounced between worry, fear and telling himself there was nothing to worry about. His nerves were stretched tight, and he had to fight the urge to stand on the front porch.

We’re coming around the corner. Be there in two.

Marco dropped his phone and vaulted over the table to dart toward the door, ignoring his shoes as he burst into the hallway.

Hurrying out the front door, he stopped as he reached the top steps, spotting Dean’s car parking against the curb only twenty feet away.

His legs stuttered, and he almost tangled his feet around one another, spilling him to the sidewalk when the passenger-side door opened.

Carter stepped out, wearing a loose pair of jeans and a form-fitting olive shirt. He squinted against the sunlight, which caught him in the face as he closed the door. Dean was getting out on the other side, and Jessica was getting out from the back seat.

But it was Carter alone he had eyes for as he stumbled to the sidewalk.

The sharp movement caught Carter’s attention, and their eyes locked. Marco’s heart tripped, and his breath caught in his throat.

And then Carter smiled .

It felt like he grew wings when he flung himself forward, bare feet slapping against the sidewalk.

He leaped, and Carter’s arms wrapped around him.

And there was that smell of clean soap and something that reminded Marco of old forests.

Carter’s breath was hot as he buried his face against Marco’s neck.

He was warm. He was strong. He was there .

“Never again,” Marco heard himself babbling. “Not again, you can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Carter whispered fiercely against his neck. “I’m so sorry, Marco. I never meant any of this.”

“I know,” Marco told him, and he did.

It was just who Carter was. Marco would never fault him for standing up for what was right, even if it meant putting himself in the line of fire. He was brave and fierce, to the point of being impulsive and more than a little foolhardy. But he was good, and he was strong.

Carter shifted his head away, and for a moment, Marco thought about protesting. And then his lips were on his, and every protest died in his throat with a little whine. It was Carter, he was there, and Marco was going to make sure he knew he was wanted and had a place.

Marco put their foreheads together, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Carter’s eyes were so bright, the gold glittering in the sunlight as he hungrily stared into Marco’s.

“Huh,” he heard Jessica grunt. “Well, that was absolutely adorable.”

“Never thought I’d see someone like Carter and use the word adorable, but you’re right,” Dean said from behind Carter.

“Would you fuck off?” Carter snarled, turning on them.

Dean beamed. “Ah, there’s his normal personality. Welcome back, Carter. I was afraid you might have actually become a nice person when I wasn’t looking.”

Jessica’s lips quirked. “Don’t have to be a nice man to be a good one.”

It was so close to what Marco had told Carter the first night they met, and it brought a smile to his face.

Marco understood then that without realizing what they’d done, they’d brought Jessica into the fold, and he hoped she stayed.

He mouthed his thanks to her, just as he’d verbally said it to her a dozen times. She rolled her eyes, waving him off.

Yeah, she’d fit right in.

“Right, well, I’m sure this is the point where Jessica and I should take off. I’m treating her to some amazing eclairs,” Dean proclaimed, rounding the front of the car.

“What?” Marco complained. “You bastard.”

Dean raised a brow. “Right, because you’re going to pass on an intense reunion with Carter for some chocolate and cream.”

Marco slapped a hand over Carter’s mouth as it opened, afraid of what would come out. “No, but you’re still a bastard.”

Carter glared at him, but Marco gave him a wide smile. His heart was still thundering in his chest, but he was coming to understand that it was real.

“Oh,” Dean reappeared. “And don’t forget, weekend after the next, housewarming party. I expect you both there, got it?”

Marco rolled his eyes, making eye contact with Jessica. “He’s not mentioning the part where the damn thing should have been, like, two weeks ago. It’s a month after the original date.”

“The Pile got the better of us,” Dean complained as he hopped in the driver’s seat.

“Or they didn’t want to deal with it,” Marco grumbled.

Jessica waved, her eyes lingering on Carter before she slid into the passenger seat. Marco hoped she’d had the chance to talk to Carter; if she didn’t, he would ensure they did.

“C’mon,” Marco said as the car pulled off. “Let’s get inside.”

Carter nodded but remained silent as Marco twined their hands together and pulled him toward the house.

Without thinking, he glanced up to find Mrs. Palmer staring down at them as she watered her plants.

She still looked unamused, but there wasn’t a scowl when their eyes met, so he thought it was progress.

“You left the door wide open,” Carter accused when they got inside Marco’s apartment.

“In case you didn’t notice, I didn’t put on shoes either. I got the message you guys were pulling up, and I just went,” Marco admitted without remorse.

“You’re ridiculous,” Carter muttered as he closed the door behind them.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

And then Carter was behind him, wrapping his arms around Marco’s waist and drawing him back. Marco felt the tension run out of his body, bleeding right onto the floor. Carter was a warm, muscled furnace behind him, and the steady rhythm of his heart near Marco’s ear was a soothing beat.

“You did,” Carter began, voice shaking, “so much for me.”

“What?” Marco asked, eyes snapping open.

“They told me. Dean, Sloane, Jessica. They told me what you did.”

“Yeah,” Marco said softly. “Still feel bad for pushing Jessica into doing it. I didn’t really give her a choice.”

Carter snorted. “She mentioned that. Told me if I could get that idea out of your head, that would be great. She would have done it if she’d known what happened to me.”

“And what did you tell her?” Marco asked quietly.

“That she didn’t know you very well if she thought I could get you to do anything. You’re a sweet guy, Marco, but I’m pretty sure you’re more stubborn than me,” Carter said roughly.

Marco laughed. “I don’t know about that.”

Carter turned him around so he could look down into Marco’s face. “I mean it. You did so much for me. Thank you. I’ll never?—”

“No,” Marco interrupted. “I don’t want you to repay me. I don’t want you to find a way to make it up to me. I don’t want anything like that. I want you, Carter, you. Nothing else.”

The expression on Carter’s face threatened to break Marco.

Gone was the fierceness, the anger, the hard man who hissed and snarled at the world.

Replaced by a man, burning with something inside, and daring to believe in something, to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a part of the world just for him.

“You,” Marco repeated softly, stroking the man’s face.

Carter caught his hand. “And you. I should’ve known from the moment you helped me off that dirty sidewalk. When you brought me into your home and took care of me. How you’ve kept caring for me, and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You were,” Marco said gently. “You’ve been paying more attention than you think. I’ve seen it. You just had to get there, and that’s okay.”

“Well, I’m there,” Carter whispered, squeezing Marco’s fingers. “I’m there, and all I want is you. You ridiculous idiot.”

Marco smiled at that, giving in to the moment when Carter bowed forward and kissed him. He wasn’t surprised when the kiss became hungry and needful, and he returned the gesture with equal vigor.

It was he who led the way up the stairs, he who undressed Carter, and then himself. It was he who dropped them onto the bed, touch gentle, mouths hungry. Just as it was he who didn’t bother with preparation, straddling Carter’s thighs and taking him in.

He relished the burn, the pain searing away something inside him and knocking it loose. He relished the feel of Carter inside him even more and cried out when he thrust up into him.

There was no time Marco could keep track of as their bodies found their rhythm.

Together, they rocked and writhed, hands never leaving the other, their mouths exploring and eager.

Sweat broke out, and just like the perfect times before, they cried out almost together as waves of pleasure washed through them, crashing down until they were shuddering and clinging to one another.

When it was done, they were left in the dim light creeping through the black curtains lining the loft.

Carter had slipped out of him already, and Marco lay on his side just as Carter did.

They held onto one another, though they stayed a little way away, staring at each other in the low light for several minutes, breathing slowly evening out.

“I’ve never had someone fight for me like you did,” Carter admitted quietly.

“You deserve to have that,” Marco told him.

“And you did that.”

“And I’ll do it again if I have to. Just like you’ll fight for me if you have to. That’s how this works.”

“This,” Carter repeated softly. “I never knew what to call ‘this.’ Still don’t, but I don’t want to let it go either.”

Marco laughed, squeezing Carter’s hand. “I think people would probably just say we’re dating.”

Carter wrinkled his nose. “Sounds a little weak?”

“Boyfriends?”

“A bit high school.”

“Lovers?”

“Are we in a fucking romance novel?”

“Partners?”

“Jesus,” Carter muttered. “Boyfriends is fine. I don’t give a shit.”

“Well,” Marco began. “There’s always?—”

He was cut off as Carter kissed him senseless. He blinked up at the big man above him, his heart fluttering in his chest. Somehow, he could still see the golden flecks in Carter’s eyes.

“Shut up,” Carter told him gruffly. “All I give a fuck about is that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Marco promised, running a hand over his short-cropped hair.

And he curled into Carter’s body, feeling strong arms wrap around him and hold him close. They breathed together, and Marco listened to the steady drum of Carter’s heart, sinking into the moment completely.

He didn’t think he was going to let go for a good, long while.