“I already believe in you, Stud. I love you.” Beck rested head back against the headboard and squeezed Sky’s shoulder gently. He could feel Sky drift off, all the tension subsiding except for the hand holding his.
16
Sky was sore, but nothing like he’d been scared he’d be, and even if he’d been in agony, coming out to see Beck’s boat was the most fun he’d had in years. He didn’t have to even get on; he needed to see Beck’s excitement, to breathe the air, to be outside.
“I don’t think I want to risk hauling you onto the boat tonight, but I’ve got a nice mooring so you’ll get to see her, and the harbor is pretty at sunset.” Beck held his hand and strolled along beside him as they made their way from the Jeep to the dock.
“Works for me.” He was happy to be walking, even with the cane.
When they reached the floating dock, Beck casually slipped an arm around him. The dock was rocking a little on the water and he knew Beck was trying to steady him, but it was subtle enough not to look that way.
“See the boat with the navy sail cover and the burgundy racing stripe? That’s her. She’s an old Schock Harbor Twenty-five that I fixed up—I’m kind of fixing her up, I guess. It never ends with boats, even more than houses.”
Just as he spotted the boat out on its mooring, the stern swung around with the current. Her name was painted neatly in matching navy-blue cursive. “She’s called the Sky High.”
He looked over, searching Beck’s face. “Yeah? That’s a pretty fucking wonderful name.”
Had he been on Beck’s mind so long?
Beck smiled at him. “Well, she takes after a pretty fucking wonderful guy, so…” He felt Beck breathe in deep. “I can’t wait to take you out.”
“Say the word. I’m yours.” He dared to lean, a little. “It’s beautiful. Like a painting.”
“It is. I love the mountains across the lake, they change all the time with the sun. It’s really gorgeous. That water is cold though, no joke. Really fucking cold.”
“Yeah? I don’t think I’ll try it out then. My everything would cramp up.” Now a hot tub? He tilted his head, thinking on that.
“I get cramps thinking about it.” Beck’s head tilted along with his. “Speaking of which, something on your mind?”
“I—” His first instinct was to deny it, but why? “Yeah, actually. How do you feel about a hot tub? We could put one in…”
“You want one? The deck is huge. Why not?” Beck looked at him. “Ooh. Or we could do a little shed thing off the deck and add a changing room with heat. And maybe a sauna.” Beck laughed. “Because that’s not a giant splurge. I’ll have someone come look at the deck and see if it’s sturdy enough.”
“I’d like to get us one, yeah. Somewhere we can go outside in the weather and be warm together. Float.” He hummed softly, eyes on the boat, looking at all the lines and shit. “That’s so not a bass boat with an Evinrude. It’s all sleek and fine, like you.”
“Sleek? Hm. Not like I used to be, but I try. She has an inboard motor. It’s not fast, but it will get you home. I got her up to a rockin’ five knots once. There’s a reason sailors are never in a hurry.”
The sun hit the top of the mountains and after that, the light started to slip away fast.
“Did you think about supper?” He couldn’t believe how chilly it got, even in the summer. He thought he could get used to that.
“Well. I have some sausages. We could do pasta?” Beck turned them around and led him back up the dock. Their shadows were already fading.
“No. We’re going out. Somewhere we can sit, have a drink, look at each other, and not have dishes after.” Stubborn butthead. They needed to talk, good things and bad both. And a restaurant was safe.
“Out, huh? All right. Burlington, then. We can wander Church Street. Italian? Asian? Mediterranean?” Beck lifted him right over the gap between the dock and the parking lot without a word of warning, then offered him an arm.
“Italian? I could have a noodle.” And Beck loved wine. And he loved letting Beck look for a wine he enjoyed.
“Noodle it is.” Beck leaned over and kissed him before opening the passenger-side door. “Hand up?”
“Please.” He was getting better, but it helped, the hand, and it felt so good.
Once he was settled, Beck hopped in the other side and started the Jeep, turned on the radio, and brushed something off the dashboard. Probably dust. His man was truck-proud; it was adorable.
They sat for a second while Beck looked through his phone and finally handed it to Sky. “You want to do an OpenTable for that place, please? It’s a drive. Maybe forty minutes.” Beck turned on the headlights and drove away from the lake.
“I’m on it.” He whistled along with the radio and he pushed and scrolled and selected like a madman. “Should we say it’s our anniversary? First date? Business meeting?”