Page 5 of Daddy Marc's Gem

Marc straightened from where he’d been going through a box of old books, his eyebrows arched. “My goodness. Did you ship everything when you moved? That sounds like an overwhelming task. I applaud you for your undertaking.”

“Oh… I…” He’d never handled praise very well. Especially since he’d rarely received much. “I hired a shipping company to truck everything out here, so it wasn’t too bad.”

The corners of Marc’s lips lifted slightly. “I can’t imagine you trusting strangers to pack so many of these delicate items.”

“No, you’re right about that.” The exhaustion and stress had almost done him in. He often wondered if the fights he and Edward had before the move were the main contributing factors to his abrupt abandonment. He chuckled slightly, hoping to take some of the bitterness out of his voice. “Packing up my life without any help and moving somewhere I had zero interest in wasn’t my idea of a good time.”

He snapped his jaw shut. If only he could remember to think before he spoke. Marc didn’t know his circumstances, didn’t realize he’d arrived in Massachusetts with a cheating asshat of a boyfriend, believing he’d have his antique shop up and running within months instead of having to throw everything on the lawn like trash.

Marc’s brow creased. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

Foster gave himself a mental shake. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I haven’t had a normal conversation with someone in such a long time, it’s like the flood gates opened.” He chuckled shakily. “At this point, Dolly is my only social outlet.”

Marc continued to regard him with compassion. He’d been expecting him to run from the yard to get away from the weirdo spewing out his private life to a complete stranger.

“I know it’s not the same as human interaction, but I‘m glad you’ve had Dolly. Pets can be such great emotional support during challenging times when people fail us. You seem like awonderful man. If you allow yourself the opportunity to heal, I’m sure someone more deserving of you will eventually come along.”

Foster blinked several times. Marc certainly didn’t seem judgy about his ex being a man. He also seemed like the most amazing guy ever.

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you. Reminds me of something a good therapist would say and that I needed to hear right now.”

Marc barked out a laugh. “I’m that obvious, huh? But I meant every word.”

Foster’s eyes widened. “Oh wow. You mean you’re an actual therapist?”

“I am. But I promise I wasn’t trying to push my services on you,” Marc said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “Occupational hazard, I'm afraid. My friends tell me I can't help but analyze everything.”

Foster’s shoulders relaxed. There was something about Marc’s presence that felt calming, steady—like a harbor in a storm. “No, it’s... nice. To be seen, I mean.”

His cheeks heated again. This gorgeous man was not only kind to dogs and knowledgeable about antiques, but he helped people for a living. The universe was clearly taunting him with everything he couldn't have.

Marc gave him a soft smile. “Good. I don’t want to nose in where I don’t belong.” His attention returned to the table of items before him. He picked up a small bronze figurine, examining it with careful hands. “This is delightful.”

Foster stepped closer, grateful for the shift in conversation. “Early 1920s, French Art Deco. The patina is original.”

“Gorgeous. I love this era, especially the dancing women.” He drew his eyebrows together. “But a hundred and fifty dollars seems much too low for this piece. I’ve never found one for lessthan three hundred, even one this small.” He regarded Foster. “I’d happily pay that much and would still consider it a bargain.”

Foster shook his head. “Oh, I couldn’t. That wouldn’t be fair. It’s not that I couldn’t get more, but only if I was in a shop or at an antique fair.” He shrugged. “To be honest, I was willing to go as low as a hundred. At this point, I need all the…”

Aaaaand he was back to blabbing all his personal business.

Marc rubbed his chin. “I tell you what. I’ll give you the hundred and fifty for the statue then take you out for a nice dinner. Does that seem fair?”

Foster swallowed hard, not sure how to respond. Hell yeah, he wanted to go out to dinner with Marc. Was this maybe a date? Or merely a friendly offer? He was terrible at deciphering signals from men.

“Are you sure?” Foster winced. “Sorry. I mean, I’d love to.”

Marc smiled. “You don’t need to apologize for expressing what’s on your mind. And that’s wonderful.”

Foster gazed around at all the stuff in the yard. It was getting late, and he doubted Marc would want to wait for him to clean everything up before eating. “Could we do it another night, though? It’ll probably be a few hours before I’m ready to go out, and I don’t want to make you wait.”

Marc frowned. “I assume you don’t have anyone to help you put everything away. Is that correct?”

“Well, yeah.” He shifted from foot to foot. “That’s why it would take too long.”

Marc sighed. “Foster, I’m not leaving you here to take care of this alone.”

“But it’s not your problem —”

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