Page 26 of Rules to Love By

For another heartbeat, Eli just watched him, like he was waiting for something.

The butterflies surged up again, drawn like moths to Eli’s flame. Not only was Marcus never getting that initial captured bit of himself back, if he didn’t break out of Eli’s intense gaze, he would lose more bits to that heat.

It was awful and wonderful at once.

CHAPTERSIX

If Marcus was going to brush off the dyslexia, Eli wasn’t going to draw any more attention to it. And to be fair, it wasn’t like Marcus sat around doing nothing between typing each number into the spreadsheet. He participated fully in heaving boxes around and counting bottles.

Well used to his co-workers at the bar using his inability to do the paperwork as an excuse to let him do the lion’s share of the heavy lifting instead, this was a pleasant change.

They were deep in a discussion of whether or not hair de-frizzer had an expiration date when his father appeared in the doorway between kitchen and living room.

“You boys still at it?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s after six.”

“Dad.” Eli eased his back out of his position, bent over the box. “Hey. You closed already?”

“Already? Son, I closed an hour and a half ago. Have you even given this lad a break?”

“It’s fine.” Marcus jumped up from the couch where he’d been sitting, cross-legged, googling the question of the moment. “I didn’t even notice the time pass.” His stomach chose that moment to growl loud enough to fill the room. His cheeks turned a pleasant, slightly darker shade of tan as he hugged the laptop against his chest.

His father’s voice became a Charlie-Brown-like drone in the background when Marcus’s dark eyes caught Eli’s.

“You’re hungry,” Eli brilliantly pointed out.

Marcus nodded, three fast bobs of his head. “I could eat.” He swallowed hard, then gestured vaguely over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. “I should…” He lowered his waving arm to wrap it around the computer again.

“Should?” Eli asked when he didn’t finish the thought.

Marcus shook himself and blinked. “The shelves,” he blurted. “I should go take those down.”

“Son, that can wait,” Eli’s father said.

“Well.” Marcus smiled at him as he backed towards the kitchen and the stairs down to the shop. “Yes. But I’d prefer to take care of that now so they aren’t in the way for whenever Andre can come have a look at the electrical.”

“It’s late.”

“Not really, sir. I can do it quick. Should only take about half an hour.” He was at the top of the stairs, and he swayed as his heel teetered over the edge.

He’d barely flailed—had already righted himself—when Eli grabbed his wrist. Still, Marcus’s long fingers closed around Eli’s arm.

Shock jolted through Eli, like the sensation just before pain when he touched a pot, fresh out of the oven. It wasn’t pain that followed the sensation this time, though Eli couldn’t have said what it was.

Then he met Marcus’s wide black eyes and felt the impossibility of letting go. The idea of releasing Marcus was all kinds of wrong. And didn’t that just blow his no-dating-random-guys policy out of the water? He was supposed to stick to his pre-arranged meet-ups, avoid the uncertainty of—well—the Marcuses of the world. And yet…

“I’ll help you,” he blurted, while mentally kicking himself, because this was him, breaking his own rules, willfully stepping into the dating abyss and not even caring how the landing was going to go.

Marcus flashed him a brilliant smile, sending that jolt through Eli again as the wind of free-fall whistled though his head.

“Not really a two-person job,” Marcus said softly, fingers still wrapped around Eli’s wrist.

Tightening his hold, Eli shrugged. If he was going down, was it too much to hope he wasn’t going down alone? “I put them up there. Feel sort of responsible. Might learn something by taking them down.”

“Okay.” And still, Marcus didn’t let go.

Eli’s father cleared his throat. “I’ll get started on supper.”

“Actually, Dad…” Finally he snapped out of the moment, and the fire racing under his skin sent fever chills instead of heat along his nerves. Eli released Marcus and took a step back. “Can you go through that pile next to your chair?” He pointed to the stack of old books and other odds and ends. “See if there’s anything in there you want to keep. We were thinking about making some kind of history-of-the-shop display so the sale wall isn’t all product. Give a bit more interest.”

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