Dale made a mental note to scold his older sister for doing this to him; of all the people Maria Parish chose to send his way, she had to send his number one enemy Lucas McDonald. “Well she should have told you I wasn’t in,” he said, not even trying to disguise the anger in his voice. “I’m about to leave right now.” He’d been putting on his suit to go to work when the doorbell rang and he’d answered it without getting the chance to eat breakfast.
Lucas frowned, a black brow arching at Dale’s comment. “You don’t even have a minute to spare?”
Dale shook his head, holding back his sound of disgust when he saw the sad expression in Lucas’ eyes. Once upon a time he would’ve fallen for the older man’s painful look, but now it only managed to upset him some more. “So please, leave.”
He made to close the door in Lucas’ face when a hand shot out and pressed on the door. Dale pushed the door with all his strength but Lucas had it wide open with the matter of one push with his hand. He was stronger than Dale; always had been.
Dale stood his ground as the man approached, the look in his eyes filled with anger, shame and love. Dale steeled himself against the look and refused to back down. “Get out,” he said through gritted teeth.
Lucas looked down at the shorter man and almost laughed. Dale was always so fragile; he still hadn’t put on any more weight so he was still as thin as a girl and his soft face wasn’t helping matters either. He, on the other hand, was the exact opposite of Dale. He was tall, a little past sinewy with muscles upon muscles from working in construction and boxing over the years.
“Just two minutes, Dale,” he pleaded. “Two minutes and then I’ll leave if you don’t still want me around.”