Love And The Real Boy - Coming About, Book 2 (26 page)

Rory sighed and ran a hand through his thick black hair. His eyes were sad, and Patrick felt a moment of guilt for being so accusatory; Rory really was a good guy, he just seemed a little self-centered sometimes.

“You know, he saved my life once,” Rory said after a few minutes of tense silence.

Patrick’s brows reached for his hairline. “Really.” What should have been a question came out as a statement laced with disbelief.

Rory rolled his eyes. “Okay, I probably wouldn’t have
actually
died, although I guess it would have been possible with a bad enough reaction—but most of the time, I
felt
like I was dying. I have celiac disease, and I used to get really sick every time I ate because back then no one really knew about gluten. Rich had seen similar symptoms in one of his foster sisters, so he started cooking gluten-free meals for me, and I got better.”

“He mentioned the gluten thing to me, but he didn’t act like it was such a big deal.”

“That’s just like him. Don’t let him fool you. It changed my life.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Patrick took a deep breath and prayed to Saint Jude for patience, because this boy certainly was a desperate cause. “Then don’t you think you should give him the bloody benefit of the doubt?”

Rory blushed, looking over at Rich and frowning. “I can forgive him—I already have—but I don’t think things could go back to the way they were unless Justice can. That’s something the two of them will have to work out.”

“I understand, of course. Sometimes you just have to pound it out. My brother and I just had a god-awful row over old business, though things are better now. But d’ya think you could talk to Justice…give him a little nudge to work it out? Or at the very least, throw Rich a bone and have coffee with him or something, yeah?”

Rory crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his voice as Justice came within hearing distance. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.”

Patrick clapped Rory hard on the back—a genuine gesture of thanks, though he hoped it rattled the guy’s pearly whites a little—and then turned his attention back to the boat. Bennett called down to him that they were ready. It was time to drop her.

* * * *

Rich was doing his best to be unobtrusive. He knew that at least two—maybe more—of the people in attendance of the launch hated him on a good day, but interestingly enough, he wanted this to go well. He wanted it to be successful not just for Patrick, but for Justice and Nic. The gift of the boat was in celebration of Nic not getting his ass splattered all over Skull Island during the storm and being in one piece for his wedding. Rich could get behind that. Sure, the guy had been a total dick to him, but he was just defending his boyfriend. At the time, that was something Rich couldn’t comprehend, but now he could.

That’s how he came to be there in the midst of all the people he’d wronged. But Patrick was there, so everything would end up okay. Besides, Patrick had willingly put himself out there, and posed mostly nude to help land Rich his biggest account to date. This was Patrick’s career just like advertising was his, so Rich could damn well show his support.

Hanging back away from the crowd of people milling around the boat, Rich stuffed his hands in his pockets and quietly observed. Justice was just in front of him and to the left. He had his camera poised ready to capture every nanosecond of the launch, but his eyes were wide and full of awe. They also glistened with unshed tears. Rich couldn’t blame him for that, either. This boat floating was like a symbol for his fiancé being alive—it was heavy stuff.

Rich cringed when he realized Patrick had invited the twins. Douglas and Donal were swaggering up the pier toward the
Galeocerdo’s
slip. Hunching his shoulders, Rich backed up off of the main throughway and hoped they wouldn’t see him—no such fucking luck.

They didn’t stop walking, but as soon as they passed Rich, Douglas nodded at him. Donal turned around so that he was walking backwards and mimed giving a hand-job. Despite his discomfort, Rich chuckled, but he still flipped Donal off.

Unfortunately, Donal’s antics drew Justice’s attention, and he turned around to glance at Rich. They hadn’t seen each other since the day Rich flipped out on the boat, but he didn’t start shouting, which is what Rich would have expected. Then again, he was a pretty quiet guy. Instead, he just frowned, the expression pinching what would have otherwise been a pretty sexy mouth. And then he turned his attention back to the boat.

Interesting
. Rich guessed they’d come to a momentary and tenuous proximity-induced truce. There were more important things going on than their feud. Thinking of, he searched the group that now seemed to be climbing all over the boat to find his reason for being there.

He actually found Patrick standing down on the dock next to Rory, facing the bow of the sailboat. And as he looked, Rich considered the idea that lately, Patrick was his reason for everything. The man really was ridiculously good looking, especially today with the sun glaring down on him, making his hair flash copper, along with the couple of days’ worth of stubble on his jaw. He wore a threadbare Seahawks T-shirt—a blue one with just a line drawing of the hawk on the front—with the sleeves ripped off, showing off his sculpted arms. Rich shivered as he thought about having those arms locked around him last night as Patrick drove into him in long, powerful strokes.

His typical uniform of ripped khaki cargo shorts left the better part of his athletic legs showing. They were also dusted with copper hair and tinged with a golden tan that faded where his ankles met his deck shoes. God, how could Rich have not ever realized how sexy ankles were? Maybe it was just Patrick’s that were.

Rich noticed Patrick’s skin glistening in the sun as if it were wet. He wasn’t doing anything physical, and it wasn’t that hot now that the breeze had kicked up. Why was he sweating? It suddenly dawned on Rich that Patrick was probably nervous about how all the work would hold up. He should have figured it out sooner, should have said something when they were in bed last night, kissing each other breathless, like they couldn’t get enough.

Wanting to go to him but hesitant to get in the way, Rich bounced on the balls of his feet, bursting with nervous energy. He tried to gather his wits and turn his attention to what was going on with the boat. People were darting around on deck, doing things that Rich didn’t understand, and others were down on the dock, doing a whole lot of waiting. Donal was poised next to a post with some sort of a control box, and he was staring at Patrick. This led Rich’s eye back to the man himself, who looked to be in deep conversation with Rory. He couldn’t tell if they were arguing or just shooting the shit, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d just drink in the sight of his man for a little longer.

“You know he’s never going to see you that way, right?”

Justice’s voice startled Rich out of his little daytime fantasy about Patrick, so much so that he jumped. Justice had backed up so that they were standing side by side, but he wasn’t looking at Rich.

“Hmm? What?” Following his gaze, Rich saw that he’d been looking over at Rory and Patrick as well.

“Oh, Rory?” Suppressing a laugh, Rich turned to face Justice. The guy obviously thought he’d been staring at Rory, pining away. Rich was a little startled that he hadn’t really spared a glance for Rory at all, not with Patrick in his sights. Patrick was the one he was looking at. Patrick was the one.
Well, talk about progress
.

“I know it,” Rich said to answer Justice’s question. “It’s cool.”

Justice scuffed his ratty tennis shoe on the weathered wood of the pier and kind of curled in on himself. To Rich, he’d always been the larger-than-life, scary fucker who’d been the elephant in the room between him and Rory, and who’d basically come to town and stolen his life. But now he just looked like a shy, awkward kid—a hot one, but still. Rich remembered Rory saying something about Justice’s anxiety problems, so he thought maybe he stressed Justice out as much as Justice did him.

Swallowing around the thickness in his throat, Rich decided to man up. “Can we talk?”

“I’m listening,” Justice said without looking up from where he’d been staring at his shoe.

“There is no excuse for what I did to you—
none
—”

“That’s for sure,” he interrupted, this time raising his eyes to glare at Rich.

Though it galled, Rich raised his hands in surrender. “I deserve that. But if you could just consider, there are a lot of things that have happened to me that’ve made me the way that I am—er, was. Bad shit, like from my childhood. Then Rory and me, we were like two peas in a pod there for a while, like a family, I guess. And then you came along and sort of ousted me.”

Justice started to say something, but Rich shook his head to stop him. “I know it wasn’t intentional. Hell, you barely knew me. All of that, plus the other stuff…well, it was like a convergence of all of the worst things in my life. The perfect storm.”

“Believe it or not, I know exactly what you mean. I went through a thing like that right before Nic’s accident.”

Rich blew out a breath because he’d been expecting to get verbally reamed, and he wasn’t sure what to do with this calm understanding. Maybe Justice really was just a nice guy—like Rory had always said.

“But you kind of ruined my life there for a minute…” Justice continued.

“I know and believe it or not, I feel like shit about it.”

Justice nodded, and they lapsed into silence as they heard shouting from the boat. It looked like it was time to drop the boat. Patrick gave a hand signal to Donal, and he used both hands to fiddle with something inside the control box. Shortly after, the winches creaked and the vessel began to lower toward the water.

Patrick was staring at it so hard, Rich was surprised he didn’t burn holes in the freshly painted hull. His arms were crossed over his chest, and from the way the corded muscles and veins stood out, he was clenching them hard.

“Stop!” Patrick yelled at Donal.

Donal immediately let go of the switches.

“Couple more inches on the left,” Patrick said, and Donal complied. “Now go. Steady…”

After what seemed like an hour, the
Galeocerdo
plopped into the water with a gentle splash. Everyone held their breath for a few tense moments as they waited to make sure she would float. And float, she did.

A cheer rose up from the crowd, and Patrick turned toward Rich, a broad grin stretching across his face. The pride in Patrick’s face—and the fact that he was the one Patrick had turned to, to share it—made Rich’s heart swell with all the love he felt. He returned the smile and gave a little wave, but stayed put. Patrick didn’t need him in the way; he had to help make ready for Bennett, Neal, and the twins to take the boat out for a test sail.

Remembering Justice, who was snapping away with his camera and crying, Rich spoke up again. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” Okay, so maybe he was taking advantage of the emotional situation and hoping Justice would cut him a break.

Justice turned to him, brushing the tears off his cheeks. He nodded at Rich. “I appreciate it.”

Bennett was piloting the boat out of the slip at that point, turning her toward the sun lowering near the horizon. And Patrick…well, the look on Patrick’s face as they sailed off without him broke Rich’s heart into tiny shards. That man belonged on the water—and it seemed like it was the last place he’d let himself be.

Rich made decision. He was in a relationship now—wasn’t that just the eighth wonder of the world?—and people in relationships did things for the good of each other…even if it was hard. He was going to get Patrick back on the water, because he never wanted to see his love wear that shattered expression ever again.

To do that, though, he’d need to enlist the reluctant help of Justice. “I’m seeing someone. Did you know that?” he asked Justice.

Justice scoffed and blushed at the same time. “Well, I kind of got the idea after Patrick let slip about you guys fucking.”

Rich could only manage half a smile, because that seemed like ages ago—back when he was the world’s biggest tool. “Yeah, but I mean I’m
seeing
him. As in a relationship, not just fucking.”

Justice’s eyebrows raised, and his eyes widened. Rich was kind of proud of himself for being able to surprise the guy.

“So the only thing I want…no, I
need
from Rory is his friendship. I miss that. And I wouldn’t mind having yours either—maybe someday.” Rich held out his hand for a shake as he tried telepathically to force Justice to forgive him. “Think you could forgive me?”

Justice chewed on his lip, and Rich hoped that meant he was considering it. The left side of his mouth quirked up into a half smile, and he took the proffered hand. “I’ll work on it.”

Rich smiled openly, because for the first time in like
ever
, he felt like he was on the right track, instead of just treading water. He had a brother and a nephew, a great job and a nice house; he might be on his way to getting his best friend back and gaining some new ones, and he had a gorgeous, strong, supportive boyfriend who
loved
him.