Chapter 8

Shawn Brockton lazed on the beach below his new cottage home. It had been several days since his awkward encounter with his neighbor, and he'd managed to blow it off to the eccentricities of the older man. He had even headed into town a couple times looking for some action, but the couple of bars he'd gone to hadn't been very worthwhile, at least not the ones nearby. He'd been told he'd have to head south toward Columbo, which was at least a three to four hour drive. He'd even considered maybe bringing a few of the locals he'd met back to hang out on the beach. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to share his sanctuary yet. Chatting with friends online had managed to keep his solitude from suffocating him.

He'd found a few plastic lounge chairs in the small storage room and managed to drag one of them down the steep path a couple days ago. He made sure to tuck it up among the rocks each afternoon before he left the beach, since he wasn't sure how high the tides would get or if a storm could wash it away.

The last few days he'd spent the afternoons sunning himself on the beach. He'd ventured into the surf with his snorkel and mask as well, floating along on the surface and watching the fish darting around under him. It was always so quiet, except for the crashing of the surf. So unlike home, with the rush of traffic, the buzz of phones, the chatter of people outside. While he missed the rush of the crowds, he was beginning to feel more and more content with the quiet of his new home.

After baking for a while in the warm sun, Shawn stretched, sitting up slowly before tossing his sun glasses onto his towel spread over the chair. He quickly made his way over the warm sand to the surf, taking a minute to stretch before splashing out into waters. The water cooled his sun-warmed skin as he ducked under a small wave to swim further out. It felt good to stretch out his muscles and glide through the waters along the shore.

After about a half hour, he finally made his way back to shore, hitching up his sliding swim trunks as he splashed through the surf battering the shore. He took a moment to take in the innate beauty of the rocky cliffs rising from the sandy beach to his home. He arched his back, stretching out his tightened muscles--swimming wasn't usually his choice of exercise and he realized just how many muscles he was using all at once. His gaze drifted over the rest of the island, the long length of it stretching to the south. A glint of reflecting sunlight caught his attention, and he noticed the glass patio door of his neighbor's house closing quickly.

He chuckled to himself. Obviously, Martin wasn't as uninterested as he pretended to be. This wasn't the first time he'd caught sight of the man retreating back into the house when he came out of the waters. The man wasn't as inconspicuous as he thought. He wondered if the stodgy man was still watching him from behind the glass doors.

Dropping his gaze so as to not appear like he was staring, he smirked as he fiddled with the waistband of his swim trunks, untying it and pulling it down a bit as he pretended to brush away sand. As his hand brushed over the dark curls peeking over the band, a shiver of excitement rushed through him at his blatant display.

It didn't take long before he could feel the sun trying to bake the salt on his skin, so he gave up his enticing teasing and headed towards his chair. He slipped his feet into his leather flip-flops and whipped his towel from the chairs. He took a few moments to rub down his bare chest before swiping up a water bottle and gulping down its contents.

@@@@

Holy crap.

Casey had perched himself carefully on the deck, counting on the sun to obscure any views of him that their neighbor might see. He was glad that the bruise on his cheek had faded, not that he ever expected anyone to see his face. Whenever Martin left for the village to help out in the clinic or to head further inland to one of the larger towns for supplies, Casey gravitated to the back deck to see if he could catch glimpses of their neighbor--Shawn, Martin had said his name was.

It was odd, he realized, that he hadn't see the guy's wife, girlfriend, whatever she was since that first day. He was beginning to wonder if she was like allergic to the sun or something. Of course, there was a whole other side of the island that he couldn't even see--the northern side. Maybe she was one of those women who liked to sunbathe nude and kept herself there and out of view of their neighbors.

Maybe he was just missing her when she came out, after all, he did have to spend a lot of the day indoors hiding from them--using the damn tank to slake some of his urges to swim, even if it was just enjoying the feeling of weightlessness as he floated around.

Shawn occasionally did some swimming, he noticed, but not as much as he'd thought the guy would do. Maybe Shawn was swimming in the northern cove with his wife most of the time. Mostly Casey was able to just stare at the man's muscular body laying out in the sun in the afternoons. After the first day of dealing with the sand on his towel and the seashell littered shoreline, Shawn had dragged a lounge chair down the rocky slope. As the dark haired man--was it black or just really dark brown?--rubbed sun block all over his body, Casey's fingers itched to help. He wanted to run his fingers over the light dusting of dark hair between the man's pectoral muscles and follow it down the trail from his navel to his...

Casey straightened as Shawn suddenly sat up and stretched. Casey hoped the man was going to swim and not just head inside, and he found himself holding his breath as he waited to see what the man would do. When the muscular body rose and dropped his sunglasses on his chair, Casey grinned as he followed the man's progress to the surf.

From up here, Casey could easily see through the turquoise waters to watch Shawn's form slicing through the waves. He wasn't as graceful as Casey thought he'd be, more stabbing at the water than gliding through it, but it didn't matter as long as Casey got a good view.

He tensed briefly when he saw a reef shark prowling along farther off shore. For a second, he almost raced down the path, but then the marine predator turned and lazily swam back out to deeper waters apparently not having found much interesting closer to shore. Shawn, having kept his strokes along the shoreline, didn't seem to have noticed the shark.

Eventually, Shawn's tall form emerged from the waters, and Casey was mesmerized by the rivulets of water sliding down the tanned body. As Shawn stretched there in the surf with the water rushing around his ankles, Casey realized abruptly that the man was staring towards the cliffs.

"Oh, shit." Casey jerked back from the railing and darted into the house through the sliding glass doors. He prayed that the man hadn't seen him, or Martin would flay him alive. Damn it, why was this man making him so careless?

Probably because Casey didn't see him as a threat. Not that good-looking guys couldn't be threatening, as Roshan had proven, but this one seemed rather easy going. And, shit, was he smiling now?

Casey banged his head on the glass as he watched the man hitch down his swim trunks, brushing away some sand. Yeah, Casey thought, definitely time to go take a long shower.