Todd Ruger dumped sand out of his sock, brushed off his foot and pulled the sock then his boot back on. The most sought after sentry in New Colorado Protectorate and here he was with sand stuck to his toes.
Stretching his legs, he leaned back in the somewhat rickety wooden beach chair, hoping it didn’t collapse leaving him sitting on his ass on the sandy ground. He really didn’t want sand there too.
Gaze wandering to a boardwalk and the string of booths sitting farther up the beach, Todd watched his mate. Nick was tanned skin, messy dark hair, long legs and defined muscle. Right now he wore a pair of loose, lightweight cotton shorts that ended just above his knees and a sleeveless, light gray, close fitting shirt. Of course, he was wandering around without shoes. A hint of burn accentuated the rounded part of his shoulder. Todd never tired of watching Nick.
He could’ve, however, done without the sand between his toes.