Page 6 of Master Daddy

I’ve got four weeks until I’m due back on the oil rig for another grueling four month run. The last thing I need is to be catching feelings for a boy, no matter how sexy he might be…

* * *

“So you’re saying you trained a boy today?” Kaleb asks in between gulps of his beer. “And a Little no less? Jeez. You move quickly.”

“Hey, I said nothing happened,” I retort, shaking my head. “Listen, man. You might be all happily settled down with Taron. The Forever Life might work for you. But I’m not even thinking about me and Luke as a proposition. You know me, man. I’ve got work, my cabin, and photography… when I get the time. That’s it. Seriously. Don’t look at me like that, Kaleb.”

Kaleb simply shrugs and gives me another look that says he doesn’t believe a damned word I’m saying. It’s a good job that the Woody Hollow is fit to burst tonight and full of noise and people letting loose or this could turn into an awkward silence.

I know what Kaleb wants.

He wants me to break down and confess that I have a thing for Luke.

And he thinks that by sitting there with his mouth shut he can make me talk. Well, it ain’t going down like that. Not now. Not ever.

“Right, right, right,” Kaleb finally says. “Well it’s a good job we’re such good friends. You know, another person would say that you obviously have a little something going on for this boy. But not me. I believe you. Your silence speaks volumes.”

“Okay, enough of the bullshit,” I laugh. “How about we sink these beers and then hit the dartboard. Or haven’t you recovered from the last time I kicked your ass from here all the way up to Skull Cabin Creek and back?”

“Pffft,” Kaleb answers. “But speaking of Skull Cabin Creek, any updates on when Connor and his boy are back in town from their road trip?”

“Not that I’ve heard,” I reply. “Him and Milo really got a good thing going. Just like you and Taron. Damn, if I wasn’t such a good friend I might even be jealous of the both of you.”

“Ha! It’s okay to be jealous sometimes,” Kaleb laughs. “I mean, the way Taron drives me up the wall sometimes I wish I was working away on a rig. Although, then I wouldn’t get to paddle his ass, so…”

“True,” I laugh. “That’s very true.”

For a brief moment, I find myself wondering whether there would be any way of making a relationship work, even with me being away for so many weeks or months at a time. The truth is, I just can’t see it. It wouldn’t be fair on me or whoever the boy was.

Working offshore is a pain in the ass in many ways. But there’s no denying that that it pays well. And it’s this money that is going to make sure I’m all set up and secure for when I do finally settle down. I want to be able to provide financially. I want my boy to know that I’ve got us both covered and we don’t ever have to worry about paying bills or putting food on the table.

And if the way I can do this means working away and putting a hold on relationships for the time being, then that’s just what I’ll have to do.

“Hey, come on, the dartboard is free,” I say, standing and grabbing my half-full beer. “Five bucks a game?”

“Make it ten,” Kaleb roars, finishing off his bottle and flashing a look over toward the bar. “You claim the board. I’ll get us some new beers and tell the bartender to keep them coming. We’re playing until closing time and I’m planning on leaving here a rich man!”

“In your dreams, buddy,” I laugh. “And maybe in mine too…”

This is going to be a long night. But with no work in the morning, it’s not like my alarm is going to be waking me before sunrise…

Or is it?

Chapter 3

Luke

The stockroom at Mr. and Mrs. Peplinska’s grocery store smells like cardboard, dust, and the faint metallic tang of canned goods.

Maybe it’s just me, but I kinda love the stockroom!

I’ve got a clipboard in one hand, a black marker in the other, and a towering stack of coconut milk cans that refuses to cooperate with my brain.

“Hmm… twelve, thirteen… wait, did I already count that row?” I mutter, tapping the marker against my lip.

As I move around, my hair keeps slipping forward and tickling eyebrows, but I barely notice. Because my mind isn’t here in this dusty little room…

My thoughts are back at the gym yesterday morning, replaying the exact moment a six-foot-something mountain of muscle named Mason stepped in and saved me from turning myself into a pancake under a barbell.