The Long and Winding Road (The Seafare Chronicles 4)
“I don’t know that anyone has. I don’t know that there’s anyone in this world that thinks like you.”
“Ugh. You’re gushing again. Please stop. I know I’m great. You don’t need to keep reminding me. Stop filling my wineglass.”
“I find it easier when you’re lubricated.”
I gaped at him. “Did you—did you just make a pun?”
“I’m not even embarrassed.”
“You should be. My god, even I’m embarrassed for you.”
“Really,” he said dryly. “You just talked about dildo seesaws while in the same breath telling me you wouldn’t mind me sticking a traffic cone up your ass. And I can’t even make a joke?”
“A pun isn’t a joke. It’s offensive. I mean, you’re old, but you’re not that old. It’s such a dad thing to do.”
He paled a little at that, hand tightening around his fork.
And of course, I immediately felt bad. “No, no, no. You’re not old. I mean, you are older than me, but you’re not old. I heard that thirty-seven is the new something-something. And hey! When your birthday comes around again, thirty-eight will be the new… whatever the new thing is.”
And even as I watched, I could see him steel himself. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He reached over and took my hand in his, gripping it tightly. “Okay,” he said. “So there is something.”
“Ha,” I said weakly. “I knew it. You liar.”
“Bear, I—Derrick, there’s—” He coughed and shook his head a little. “Okay. You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Of course. I mean, I’ve known
that forever. Hell, if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that. I—you know I love you too?” My hand felt clammy, because for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what the hell was happening right now, but it was serious.
I hated it.
His mouth twitched. “Yeah. I figured as much when you and the Kid wrote me a love poem with a subtle vegetarian message embedded into it.”
“I bet that damn seagull’s long dead by now,” I said savagely. “And I’m happy about it. That motherfucker had it out for me. I hope it got eaten by a shark.”
“I don’t think sharks eat seagulls.”
“What? Of course they do. They’re right there on the water. How could they not? They’re floating appetizers.”
“You know what? We’re going to look this up—goddammit. No, Bear. Stop it.”
“Stop what? You started all of this by telling me you loved me!”
He huffed out a breath and squeezed my hand. “And somehow we ended up on seagull appetizers.”
“It didn’t even take that long,” I said with a frown. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or worried.”
“I’m sure there’s medication for that, but that’s not the point.”
“Oh good. I would be concerned if it was. And also slightly offended that you got me drunk to tell me I needed to be on medication.”
“Seriously. You’re drunk already.”
I grinned at him. “Eh. Buzzed. But it’ll be easier for you to have your way with me.”
He sighed, but I saw the way his lips twitched, and I knew I was so getting laid later. It put me at ease, at least a little bit. “I’ll keep that in mind. Can I finish?”
I nodded.