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By the time Kendall set down the drink, I had worked up a fine head of steam. Throwing all caution to the wind, I reached out and grabbed his wrist. “I thought I told you to take the day off.”
He didn’t jerk his hand away, but his green eyes were hard with warning. “You don’t have the authority to do that. Besides, I can still work.”
“Says who?”
“My manager, and me.”
“You hit your head.” As I said it, I realized that I was truly beginning to be upset on his behalf. “Concussions are not a joke.”
To my surprise, his expression softened. Turning his hand in my grip, he patted my own arm in a there-there gesture. “It’s not a concussion. It’s just a little bump.”
“But—”
“I have to work, Deacon. If I’m not assisting you, then I help out at other parts of the resort.” He had the audacity to wink at me. “I told you I was great at mixing drinks.”
“Fine,” I snarled, suddenly exasperated. Taking my glass, I threw down a few dollars for a tip and walked away.
I wanted to find out who Kendall’s manager was, march up to him, and demand to know why he didn’t allow his employees sick time.
I had practically made it to the beach before my anger cooled and I realized I was acting like an overprotective, jealous boyfriend. The type of asshole who didn’t trust their partners when they said they were fine. I hadn’t ever been like that with my wife.
And Kendall wasn’t my wife.
He wasn’t even my boyfriend.
I shook my head and drank the whiskey sour.
Kendall was right. It was delicious.
* * *
I spent the day sightseeing along the beach. The island resort had a varied ecology that appealed to my inner environmental nerd who had been long buried by the needs of an ambitious business major. I had a feeling that the pristine white sand was imported, but the tidal pools further away from the villas were naturally occurring.
I spent a few happy hours clambering along sharp rocks, seeing fish and small crabs I normally only saw in salt-water tanks. There was even an octopus in one pool who seemed to be patiently waiting for the tide to come in. I suspected it had already made a dinner of the rest of the fish in the pool, as it looked completely empty.
My stomach rumbled. Huh. Dinner wasn’t a bad idea.
As I clambered and explored, I let the weird realization that I was attracted to a man filter through the layers of my mind. It was still a little odd, but not nearly as shocking. And as I slowly let myself become comfortable with the idea… it was intriguing.
Would sex with another man be different? Messier? Would it be better than with a woman?
So yes, I had found some peace with the realization that I wanted Kendall sexually, but I was nowhere near ready to explore further than that.
The best thing, for now, would be to ignore my feelings. After the divorce was finalized, I would be free to analyze this new part of myself.
With a nod and a final lingering farewell to the tide-pools, I made my way back to the villa.
I placed an order for dinner using the resort’s tablet, and then stepped into the shower for a quick rinse.
This time, I intentionally did not reach for my own cock. My mind and body were confused enough.
I regretted the decision almost at once. While toweling off, I heard a knock at the door. Kendall’s voice called out, “Dinner service!”
My traitorous cock stirred in interest.
I glared down, deliberately reached for a pair of fancy but neat slacks, and called back, “Come in!”
By the time I walked out, Kendall had my dinner laid out and was buzzing around the room, straightening, and dusting away my small amount of mess.
