Page 75 of Poolside

Tommy scoffed. “Fuck no, man. I want to call you my boyfriend because I want you tobemy boyfriend.”

Chuck had no words, and he hated the fact that his eyes burned as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He had waitedso longfor this moment, for someone to proudly name him as their partner, and he still couldn’t believe that the man handing him all he’d ever wanted was Tommy.

“Okay,” Chuck said, smiling as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Baby, are you crying?” Tommy’s hand reached over to cup his cheek. “Why are you crying?”

A laugh bubbled up from his throat, even as the tears kept falling.Damn it, he was a mess. “I’m happy,” he babbled, hiccuping as he tried to get a hold of himself. “I swear these are happy tears.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Chuck insisted, grabbing a tissue from the box Tommy kept in his car, and wiped his face and nose. “I’m really fucking happy to be your boyfriend.”

“Nice!” Tommy let out a wide laugh and pumped his fist. “First boyfriend in the bag.”

“What the fuck man? Trying to drop me already?”

But Chuck was laughing too, even when Tommy’s eyes slid quickly down his body before he looked back at the road. “Nah,” he said. “There’s no one in the world who could compare to you.”

“Bullshit.” Chuck rolled his eyes as he felt a grin tug at his lips.

“Those pretty eyes and freckles?” Tommy reached over the center console and placed a big hand on Chuck’s thigh. “You’re in a league of your own, Chuck.”

CHAPTER21

THE SOUTHEAST NAUTICAL SINGLE

TOMMY

Tommy smoothed his shirt as he and Chuck grabbed their bags from the back seat. He checked his hair in the reflection of his window, fluffing the front up a bit where it flopped down over his forehead.

He’d heard plenty of stories about Rick’s house, but nothing prepared him for the impact of driving through a wrought-iron gate flanked by bronze lion statues and coming face to face with an absolute monstrosity of a house.

From the cobblestone driveway, Tommy could see it had three stories. Towering, white pillars that looked like they were modeled after the Acropolis stretched across the front of the home, and the tall, pristinely clean windows probably each cost more than Tommy’s condo.

“Holy shit, man,” Chuck breathed beside him.

“Yeah,” Tommy replied. He reached a hand out, interlacing his fingers with Chuck’s. When Chuck frowned at their connected hands, Tommy paused. “Is this okay?”

Chuck searched his face for a moment, his blue eyes piercing. Tommy watched his slender throat bob as he swallowed. “It’s good with me if it’s good with you.”

Tommy squeezed Chuck’s hand, and pulled them forward. He couldn’t describe how relieved he was to have Chuck at his side. How much his presence lent Tommy strength as he chased this promotion.

The front door swung open and they were greeted by the sound of loud laughter, as soft music filtered out of the house.

Still holding tightly to Chuck’s hand, Tommy moved through the high-ceilinged foyer, glancing up at the massive crystal chandelier above them. He followed the hum of voices through the living room, which housed enough white couches and chairs to comfortably seat at least thirty people. Floor to ceiling windows and an open French door revealed a wide back patio where everyone was gathered.

Tommy barely registered the glazed blue planters overflowing with flowers or the white pergola that offered dappled shade as he walked through the back door. He didn’t notice anything but the stares and confusion from his colleagues as they looked down at where he held Chuck’s hand.

Chuck’s fingers went slack in his grip, and, rather than let him pull away, Tommy tightened his hold on him.

“Littleton!” Rick’s voice boomed from the crowd. The group parted as Rick walked forward; he was dressed for the holiday, in crisply pleated khaki pants and a royal blue polo shirt. The bright smile on his face tightened as he approached, his eyes darting back and forth between Tommy and Chuck. “Well, this isn’t Courtney,” he said, raising a brow at him.

Tommy was too stunned to do anything but stand there, staring at his boss.

“Must have been a mix-up,” Chuck said from beside him, his voice carrying an edge Tommy wasn’t used to hearing. “I’m Chuck McCormac, and you must be Rick?”

Rick glanced between Tommy and Chuck’s offered hand. When Tommy said nothing, Rick reached out and took Chuck’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Mr. McCormac. Pardon my surprise; Tommy had told us he wasn’t bringing anyone.”

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