2
Knight!
Shawna wrapped her arms around Lach and hugged him tight. She left a greasy red lipstick stain kiss on his cheek with a giggle. Happy to join a group of guys showing off their arm-wrestling skills, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder.
“You sure you don’t wanna come show these guys what’s what?”
Lachlan shook his head. He scratched his fingertips through the too-soft stubble on his face and licked his lips. “Gonna pass. I don’t need to get into a dick measuring contest with other dudes.”
“Your loss,“
Shawna teased. She jiggled her bouncy ass and walked away with a hum.
It didn’t get quieter without her around, the cruise deck bustling with people, but Lach had a moment to himself. He’d spent the first two days on the cruise dragging Shawna out of her feelings and their room. Then she found herself the center of attention for bi-boys, pansexual non-binaries, and the small collective of muscle-mommy lesbians.
Shawna liked the noise, the attention, and she needed it. Lach, on the other hand, didn’t know his purpose. Unlike his childhood best friend, Lach didn’t have confidence in himself. Not since he said goodbye to Leslie a year ago.
No more dresses or makeup to suffocate the voice in his head. No more pretending like he had for the past thirty-two years. Lach took his first breaths the moment his mother hugged him and told him how proud he made her. While she said goodbye to her daughter, she finally got to meet her son.
Elspeth Campbell really was a special woman, albeit trouble in a tiny package.
The confidence he got from that moment took a beating over the year that followed. Finding himself mostly attracted to men— to dicks more than anything— Lach got his fair share of rejections and chasers. Of course, he failed several relationships as well. And Lachlan didn’t know which was worse.
He’d dated before but dating as a trans man in a small town that knew him… it felt different. The town was damn accepting, but that sometimes made it a whole weirder situation. Tricky. And people like Laura still existed.
For him, things still seemed strange. Like a newborn foal navigating a muddy paddock. Shaky on his legs and a bit out of his depth. Lach’s new skin felt loose, as if someone could grab it and rip it off. Force him to face the person he buried but grieved.
The strange sense of gratitude from being free filled him, but the chains of guilt and grief at losing the person he once was weighed on him. Yes, he escaped the lies and the lonely suffering to please others but Lachlan lost three decades as Leslie.
At the core of it all, Lachlan hadn’t changed. He thrived. He didn’t feel itchy in social situations, didn’t overcompensate femininity to people please, but transitioning was an ongoing battle.
The clinking of jeweled hair accessories and the slam of a glass on a table tore Lach out of his spiral. His eyes caught a stunning woman in a red romper, her gorgeous brown skin glistening in the sunlight. Several feet between them, Lach stared at the taller woman, feeling heat in his belly.
The Senegalese twists accented with red streaks. Vibrant gold beads weaved in. Shimmery taupe lips that scowled at three men hovering her table. Lach licked his lips as she clacked her long, detailed nails, pressing one into the center of a man’s chest.
The sound of her voice made his belly swoop. “Is your brain in your dick? I. Said. No.“
The woman looked ready to pick up her expensive clutch and bludgeon the men.
Rightfully so.
He didn’t typically involve himself, not really the hero type, but looked about to turn bloody. He didn’t need the coast guard interrupting his vacation because the gorgeous doll threw three men overboard to the sharks.
But he also loathed pushy assholes.
Shoulders back faking all the confidence he always wanted to feel, Lach slipped in between the men and certain death. He winked at the woman then flashed the men a commercial smile.
“Scuse me, gentlemen,“
he said, looking them up and down. “You boys look delicious. Want company?”
One of the men stepped back. Another sneered at him. Lach crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back to his underwhelming height.
“You aren’t my type,“
the bulkier bastard huffed.
Lach tilted his head. “So, you don’t want to?”
“No.”
With vulgar and overplayed leer, Lach licked his lips. “No? Come on man, you don’t know what you’re missing. I’ll take you to the peak of pleasure. I’ve got skills,“
he said, parroting the man’s earlier words and patting his flat abs.
“I said no!”
The smile dropped from Lach’s face and he cracked his neck to the left. “Yah. I heard you. Just like you heard the lady here. Didn’t shut you up, did it?”
The quieter of the three men gasped, holding back his laughter behind the palm of his hand. Lach saw the glimmer in his eyes much like the tension in the central douchebag’s glare. Looked like a shiner was in Lachlan’s future but as quick as the temper rose, nervousness took over. The man’s eyes darted over Lach’s head and his face drained of fight.
In a matter of seconds, the man turned and left with his friends, post haste.
Uneasiness settled in Lach’s chest at the shadow that crowded out the sun, casting a coolness on the back of his threadbare muscle tee and light flannel jacket. The much larger, quiet presence sent a chill down his spine.
Lachlan cleared his throat and spun on his heels, letting his eyes catch on the woman. He gave her a bright smile, trying to ignore the mountain for the moment.
“Sorry! Just… you looked ready to feed the ocean with their remains and I kind of want to enjoy my vacation.“
Nerves forced him to rush through his words, his feet itching to escape. He forced himself to ignore the amused smile on her face, unable to resist glancing up at the wall beside him.
A tantalizing giant stood next to him and Lach’s mouth watered.
All that tan skin in a sheer, loose but cropped tank top? Sexy as fuck. With soft, wide muscles covered in dark hair, Lach winced when his gaze fell to the exquisite package stuffed into cargo shorts.
“Ah… Hi,“
Lach squeaked out. He looked up into bright brown eyes and a cheerful grin. Lach swallowed and pointed over his shoulder with a slight chuckle. “I… should go. Now. Yeah. You’re good. You are good right? Of course you are. You can handle—“
The woman put the side of her hand to her mouth and laughed, the sound just as pretty as her clinking jewelry. Her other hand reached out and grabbed Lach’s wrist. “Wait. Wait, please.“
Laughter punctuated every word. “Thank you. I’m Champagne. You?”
“Me?“
Somewhere, Lach dropped all his brain cells. His good senses. His ability to form coherent sentences. “Oh. Oh! My name! Lach. Lachlan. Uhm, Lachlan Campbell. Nice to meet you two.”
Champagne released his wrist and slapped a glistening backhand to the big man’s chest. “You broke him, Jorge!”
Jorge raised a bushy brown brow and looked Lach over. “How do you figure?”
“Looks pretty obvious,“
she sang. “You okay, Lachlan?”
“Uh-huh…“
He fought to regain control of his tongue that he nearly swallowed. “Great. Anyways. Glad we’re all good here. Happy to meet you both. I’m going to… find my friend. And leave you two beautiful people to enjoy your day.”
He spun and started walking without much thought. His feet stuck to the floor when the deep, chuckling voice of Jorge called his name. Lachlan turned his head and glanced back. He fought the full body tremor that threatened to turn him to pudding when he saw the man’s devilish grin. Eyes looking at him like dessert.
“Thanks for keeping our vacation out of a jail cell, Lachlan.”
Champagne slapped his arm for the comment but Lach only managed a nod before he walked off, praying his legs didn’t give out.