Marcos, temporarily waylaid by the fact that he needs both hands to hold the bottle, looks a little panicked. Before I can take it from him so he can introduce himself properly, Uncle Jes chuckles.
“No need to shake my hand—we’re not so formal on this side of the fence.”
I snort, understanding the inside joke and making a mental note to explain the property lines to Marcos later.
“It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for letting me stay,” Marcos says before he’s distracted by Tuna once more. He pulls the empty bottle away and brushes a hand down the foal’s neck. Tuna walks away, moving over to sniff at Uncle Jes’ boots.
“Oh, any time, son. I’m happy to have you here. Nathan, your parents will be here tomorrow afternoon. Figured maybe we could have dinner at the house.”
I grimace, glancing over at Marcos and back at my uncle, who has a knowing smirk on his face.
“Sounds good,” I agree. He nods, clapping a hand down on the railing and startling Tuna, who moves back over to Marcos, apparently deeming him the safer option.
“You taking some horses out today?” Jes asks.
“Not today. Marcos doesn’t know how to ride.” I glance over at Marcos, smirking. “Yet.”
As intended, these words earn me a severe glare from Marcos and a laugh from my uncle. He pats the rail again before taking a step back.
“You’ll handle the feeding tonight?” he asks with a nod toward Tuna.
“Yeah. We’ve got it.”
“All right. Nice to meet you, Marcos. Come over to the big house if you boys need something.”
I wait until he’s well out of earshot before turning to Marcos. “Easy one down, two to go.”
He laughs and comes close enough that I can kiss him,which I do. I intend to kiss him so much this summer, the taste of him will never leave my mouth.
“He seems nice.”
“He is. Not much for talking. That’s the most words he’ll say today, probably. Honestly, I think the only reason he’s so eager to have me take over from him is because I’ll be the one talking to people.”
Marcos snorts. “So, your parents tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I’m glad they aren’t here already. I’m too selfish to make the effort today. I want you all to myself.” I reach for him, but he crouches down to pet Tuna. I put a hand over my heart. “Wow. Already replaced.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re a very, very close second.” Tuna pushes his nose against Marcos’ cheek, making him laugh. I pull out my phone, because obviously I need another picture. “Any more chores need to be done?”
“Nope. Well, yeah, but not by us. Our only job is to fuck like rabbits and feed Tuna.”
“Oh maldita sea, Max was right. You really are like Luke,” Marcos says on a groan.
18
Marcos
Nate looks so muchlike his father, it’s jarring—like peeking twenty years into the future and knowing exactly how he’ll age. Looks seem to be the only thing he inherited from his parents, however, as neither his dad nor his mom have much more to say than his uncle did. Nate rules the conversation as a one-man show, telling stories about hockey and having everyone laughing as he does. I’m incredibly grateful, as it feels like he’s taking some of the heat off me. It’s clear his parents love him and are proud of him, and also clear that they don’t quite understand my presence in their son’s life.
“That went good, didn’t it?” he asks me as we climb back into the truck. I hadn’t truly appreciated how fucking big this place was until I asked if we should walk to dinner tonight and Nate told me it’s over a mile of distance between the loft and the main house.
“It did.”
“Sorry if I talked too much. I was nervous.”
I put a hand on his leg and he immediately drops his on top to give me a squeeze.
“I was glad you did. I’m not very good at meeting new people.”
