Page 24 of Little Boy Toy

He was dressed casual, not his usual leather. Blue jeans and a black tank top. His dark hair shone in the bright sunlight.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m still keeping it a secret.”

“We’re swimming, right?”

“Good guess. I suppose telling you to wear trunks gave it away.”

“Are we going to the pool?”

“Nope. Better.”

“Better? The beach?” It was an hour’s drive to the beach.

“Hmm. You’re pretty smart.”

I began to jump up and down. “Really? Are we going to the beach?”

“Maybe.”

I let out a high-pitched squeal.

“I picked a weekday so it won’t be crowded. I have everything we need in the trunk, including a picnic lunch.”

I knew Zale had taken the day off work for this. I didn’t feel too guilty about that since he told me he had tons of vacation days and sick leave he rarely took. Plus, he had a great assistant foreman who handled all the sites in person. I had gotten all my work done ahead for today. Working my own hours allowed me to be entirely flexible.

Zale ushered me into the car and shut the door. When he got in, I fumbled with my seatbelt. I was so excited.

“Are we going to body surf and build sandcastles? I know how to swim so you don’t have to worry about me.

“We can do all of that.”

My little self wanted to explode with glee. An hour’s drive seemed like a long time. He wanted to be there now. But time spent alone with Zale was always amazing. I was delirious with joy.

As soon as Zale started the engine, I cried out. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

No date of mine had ever taken me to the beach. No daddy had ever mentioned the beach. I hadn’t had long relationships at all, and very few shorter ones, but no one had ever guessed it was one of my favorite places in the world. Not until Zale came along.

That made me both elated and nervous. I wanted whatever was happening between us to work out so much that if it didn’t I’d be a very sad boy for a very long time.

“I want to make a really big sandcastle, please, with moats and outbuildings. Will you help?”

“I’d love to. I was a great sandcastle artist myself. When I was about five on up to twelve. I haven’t made one since. It’s about time I did.”

“You don’t have to help. I can do it. But just you being there will be fun for me.”

“But I’d love to help. Warm sand running through the fingers is the best feeling.”

“Yeah, but our castle sand will be wet.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he made a turn onto the main highway. “That’s true. I love both. Wet silt feels like liquid silk. Dry sand that’s warm is like a body massage.”

“I can’t wait until we get there. We can do it all. And play in the water, too.”

“I hoped you’d like my plan. It’s been too long since I’ve been to the beach to relax and have fun.”

“Me, too.” I rubbed my hands together. The seatbelt held me tight as I wiggled. “This is already a fun day.”