Page 6 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

Not that silence was easy to come by.

“I’m just saying, why take the drink and not even talk to me?” Simmons complained.

“Not her fault you’re dumb enough to buy her a drink without asking. You ask me, you’re the dumbass who got played, suck it up,” Trisha said.

“Least she could have done was shoot me down and give me the drink back.”

“Free booze.”

“Rude is what it is.”

Sloane rolled his eyes. “Have you considered that maybe your oh-so-stunning personality scared her off?”

“I didn’t even get a chance to say anything!”

Trisha chuckled. “Which is the smartest thing she could have done.”

“You guys are no help.”

Sloane snorted. “I don’t have the patience to help you with your fuck ups, and I definitely don’t want to. Try acting like a normal fucking person when you’re around a good-looking woman for once, maybe that’ll help.”

Trisha eyed him. “What happened to not helping him?”

Sloane ignored her. “And while you’re at it, act like a normal fucking person when you’re around us too. That would be nice.”

“We both know that’s not happening anytime soon,” Trisha said.

Simmons crossed his arms, slumping into his seat. “You guys suck.”

Sloane glanced at the clock, smiling. “Yeah, but only for you.”

“Why are you so happy?” Trisha asked.

Sloane nodded his head toward the clock. “That’s the end for me. I’ll leave you to deal with his pouting ass while I get the next couple of days for pure freedom.”

“Oh, great, thanks. You get his bottom lip jutting out, and now I get to deal with the fallout.”

“As if he wasn’t going to do it anyway after getting shot down again.”

“I’m right here!” Simmons protested.

“We know,” Sloane and Trisha said in unison.

Their response had Simmons slouching in his seat even further and widening Sloane’s grin.

He shot Trisha a wink, who returned the gesture with her tongue sticking out, and Sloane pushed out of his seat.

He wasn’t often able to get more than a day off, and he had every intention of taking advantage of it.

Stepping out into the late afternoon air, he took a deep breath and grinned. Sloane knew Dean also had the next day off, and he wanted to do something with his friend. Dean’s sleepover the night before had been fun, but it had left Sloane uncomfortable and a little frustrated.

There was clearly something wrong with Dean.

Sloane didn’t know what had happened after he’d returned to the States, but clearly, it was eating away at Dean.

Sloane could only hope it was that Dean was sworn to secrecy, but his gut told him it was more.

For all his casualness and typical lack of inhibition in expressing himself, Dean could be incredibly stubborn about certain things.

It was all too easy for Sloane to see Dean keeping something to himself out of some misguided desire to work through it on his own.

Sloane would worry about that another time.

First things first, he needed to do a bit of shopping.

His groceries were a little sparse, and he wanted to see if he could coax Dean over to his apartment on their shared day off.

As much as Sloane would like to drag the story out of Dean, he knew Dean would talk if and when he wanted to, no sooner, no later.

What Sloane could do, however, was create a place and time where Dean could relax and not have to jump all over the place.

Nodding to himself, he began walking back to his apartment to clean off and change.

Despite Dean getting off shift in a couple of hours, he hadn’t said anything to Sloane about doing something the following day.

Sloane took that as a sign that Dean wanted to do something on his own and resolved to send him a text later to ask if he’d be down for another chill-out night tomorrow.

But first, he needed to do some shopping in town.

Sloane huffed as another person nearly collided with him on the sidewalk.

He’d forgotten it was Friday, and the tourist town of Dalton, a short drive from Fort Dale, was crowded.

Worse, he had taken longer than intended to get ready, and with twilight turning into night, the streets were even more packed than usual.

While he was trying to keep his bags of groceries close before they were torn free, everyone else was ready to start a long night of fun.

For a moment, Sloane considered taking his groceries home and returning to town.

It had been a while since he’d last gone out and had a night to himself.

Before he’d been deployed, there had been several nights where he’d go out on the town and find out what sort of trouble he could get into.

Simmons might have commented out of exasperation, but he’d been partially right.

Sloane’s bed had been shared several times.

However, that all changed when he returned to the States.

Sure, there was still the occasional fling here and there, but as Sloane slipped from his early to mid-twenties, he’d discovered he had less of a taste for it.

Honestly, it was easier and far more fun to enjoy some of his free time alone and the rest with his best friend.

And hell, if he ever felt the urge to scratch that particular itch, he wouldn’t have to go far with the town so close.

Lost in his thoughts, Sloane found his car parked alongside a meter.

There was still plenty of time on it, and he figured someone else would praise their good fortune when they inevitably took his vacant space.

With relief, he shoved the grocery bags into the back seat, closed the door, and prepared to climb into the driver’s seat.

He paused as a familiar laugh nearby brought his head up.

Turning to look for the source, it took a minute before he spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

Sloane cocked his head as he watched Dean walk through the sea of people, grinning ear to ear.

Dean wasn’t usually the type to go out on the town, preferring to stay in the barracks whenever Sloane decided to have some fun.

Sloane had clocked it up to his friend being a bit of a ‘shut away,’ but as it turned out, Dean liked to go out.

Sloane made to raise his hand to see if he could catch Dean’s attention and froze as someone jogged up to Dean.

There was something in the strange man’s hand, and he shoved it into Dean’s grip with an ear-to-ear grin.

Dean let out another laugh, goofy and playful, as he looked down at what he’d been given, shaking his head in disbelief.

Sloane’s eyes widened as he watched the man bend forward, stealing a kiss from Dean, which earned him a quieter and far more private laugh.

Some distant part of his mind was sure he looked ridiculous, but Sloane couldn’t help ogling the two men.

It was obvious that not only was Dean on a date, but their casual air told Sloane it wasn’t the first or even the second.

Dean had always been quiet about what he did in his spare time, and Sloane had never thought to question it.

As he watched Dean nudge the man, slipping an arm through his, Sloane remembered how much quieter Dean had been lately.

He stared at the two of them as they walked along the opposite sidewalk.

That was until Dean happened to glance Sloane’s way.

The way his friend’s eyes drifted over him, only to snap back with eye-widening recognition, might have been funny in any other context.

As it was, he could only return Dean’s gaze, slowly tilting his head to one side as he tried to process what he was seeing.

Dean’s date noticed something was wrong, turning to speak softly to Dean.

Dean licked his lips nervously, nodding in Sloane’s direction, bringing the date’s attention to him.

For a few seconds, the three of them gazed at one another across the street, no one sure what to do.

Finally, Dean’s unknown date shook himself out of it and, with a gentle pull on Dean’s wrist, led him over to Sloane.

“Hi, Sloane,” Dean began quietly, his voice almost lost in the drone around them.

“Dean,” Sloane said.

Dean glanced at the other man. “This is Marco.”

Now they were closer, Sloane could make out the finer details of Dean’s date.

Objectively speaking, Sloane would give Dean credit, as he had caught an attractive man.

Marco was taller than Dean but stood a few inches shorter than Sloane.

He had strong features, with an angular, cut jaw accented by the lightest peppering of dark stubble.

Marco obviously took care of himself, the forearms sticking out from his shirt were toned with muscle.

Though a little messy, his dark brown hair was well-kept and bright, intelligent hazel eyes looked up at Sloane warily but without fear.

“Good to finally meet you,” Marco said in a rich baritone as he held out his hand.

Sloane’s eyes snapped back to Dean. “Oh, so you’ve heard of me .”

Dean winced. “Sloane.”

Sloane took Marco’s hand, gripping it tightly and giving it a single shake. “Nice to meet you. Just found out you existed, but hey, nice to meet you anyway.”

“It was...I planned on telling you,” Dean said.

Sloane looked at Marco. “This whole keeping it a secret thing, your idea?”

Marco shook his head. “It wasn’t our intention to keep anything a secret.”

“Mmm, and yet, here it is, a secret.”

Sloane could see Dean cringing hard enough it was a miracle the man didn’t retreat into his chest cavity.

Guilt pinged in Sloane’s heart, and he hated himself for bringing a look of shame to Dean’s face.

But damn it, why would Dean keep something like this from Sloane?

Did he think Sloane wouldn’t like it? Did he think Sloane would be a dick to Marco?

“It was...just us trying to be sure,” Marco continued.

Sure of what? That Sloane would be able to handle the news? That Sloane wouldn’t be able to argue with Dean having finally found himself a man because they’d gone on several dates?

“I’m sorry, Sloane. It wasn’t supposed to be a secret, I promise,” Dean said quietly.

The guilt deepened, and Sloane opened his mouth.

Whether to tell Dean he’d get over it or to ask for further clarification, he wasn’t sure.

What he did know was Marco had slid an arm behind Dean’s back to comfort him.

Sloane pressed his lips into a thin line, refusing to let any words escape as he watched Marco gaze down at Dean, his expression hidden from Sloane’s view.

Wasn’t it bad enough that Sloane had to find out by accident that his best friend had been keeping a relationship from him?

Did the guy really have to do the whole boyfriend thing right in front of Sloane while he was still processing that there even was a boyfriend?

Sloane didn’t give a shit that it was two guys in front of him doing it.

What bothered him was the complete lack of taste.

“So, how’d you meet? Random? Find each other in the bar?” Sloane asked, hearing the anger in his voice and unable to quell it.

“App,” Marco said, squeezing Dean.

Sloane turned his burning gaze toward Marco. “And what do you do, Marco?”

“IT for a local tech company,” Marco said, holding Sloane’s gaze easily.

Sloane nodded jerkily. “Oh, I see. Fancy. Perfect if you ever have to take him home, eh, Dean?”

Dean’s head snapped up, eyes sparking. “Sloane, what the hell?”

Not that Dean had ever cared about that sort of thing, and Sloane didn’t know why he’d even felt the need to bring it up.

It honestly didn’t matter if Dean chose to date someone with a high-end college degree or a blue-collar construction worker, Sloane wouldn’t have cared one way or another.

What ate at him, what drove the indignant, willful anger, was that Dean had kept this from him.

Sloane could accept that Dean wouldn’t talk about what had happened to him out in the field.

He could accept that Dean would keep his fevered nightmares to himself and never do more than apologize for his occasional overreaction to what were, at the end of the day, simply minor scares.

What he couldn’t accept was that Dean thought it right to keep his budding relationship with someone a secret from Sloane.

They were supposed to be best friends. They were supposed to share almost everything, especially something that should have been wonderful and worth celebrating.

And God , why wouldn’t Marco stop touching Dean, just for ten fucking seconds?

“I worked pretty hard for it, but I wouldn’t call it fancy,” Marco answered in his infuriatingly calm voice.

“And got yourself a military man. Shit, you guys could get married now, get yourself even nicer housing if you wanted,” Sloane continued in a voice that was both seething and oddly cheerful.

“I hope I have myself a good man. Whether I do or not remains to be seen,” Marco said while Dean stared in dumbfounded shock beside him.

Sloane’s brow rose in polite surprise that he didn’t feel. “Oh? Hasn’t committed, has he? He’s a wily one. Better keep an eye on him before he finds someone else.”

Marco tilted his head, scoffing slightly. “I think...I should go. I don’t think I’m...helping by being here.”

Dean snapped out of his stupor, reaching out to take hold of Marco with a curt shake of his head. “No, you stay. Sloane, I think you’re the one who needs to go.”

Sloane didn’t blame him. “Me? I’m just trying to get some answers and figure out everything I’ve missed out on.”

Dean’s jaw tightened. “You’re being an ass. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you immediately, but this is beyond stupid. Go home and let me enjoy my night.”

Sloane wanted to argue, demand answers from Dean, and yank the man away from Marco’s grip.

Instead, he gave a low huff before all but ripping the driver’s side door to his car off the hinges in his effort to open it.

He was just as brutal in slamming it and rocking the frame, and he swore he heard something crack.

Dean stared at him as Sloane turned the engine on with a harsh twist of the key, forcing his gaze away from his friend.

It took all his willpower not to look in the rearview mirror as he twisted the car out of the parking spot and onto the road.

The last thing he needed was to get a final look at Dean's wounded and angry expression.

It was bad enough to have seen it for most of that disorienting altercation, and it was worse to see it deepen as Sloane fled.

And all he could think as he drove back to the base was, what the hell had happened?