Love in La Terraza (2 page)

“Because she’s my friend, not my ATM,” Cain reminded her. “As much as I want to throttle her most of the time, I love her too much to ever risk ruining that over money.”

“How can you love something like that?” Stu asked, genuinely confused by it.

Cain laughed. “I know she can be semi-horrible, but I guess I’m just used to her. We’ve been besties ever since grade school, when she offered me the use of one of her spare princess tiaras on the playground.”

Matt and Eddie snickered under their breath.

“Hey! I could totally work a tiara in my tiny-tot days.” Cain took another long drink, finishing off what was left of his first beer and beginning to feel the tension in his neck and shoulders fade from the combination of food, rum and beer.

“Now, we know what to get him for Christmas next year,” Matt said under his breath.

Cain smiled but couldn’t seem to pull off a laugh, mainly because he’d seriously begun to doubt the fact he’d still own the apartments come Christmas.

That made him feel even worse—the thought of putting people out on the street during the holidays. He had several tenants at the moment, not including himself. Seven people would have to find a new place to live, once Cain was forced to sell La Terraza to the real estate conglomerate that had been harassing him for the last eighteen months.

He sensed his friends were all trying to steer the conversation away from his financial woes, so Cain tried to think up something that might do the trick. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind aside from the pricey items on the bullet-point repairs list from hell permanently etched into his brain—none of which he couldn’t afford to have fixed.

He’d spent nearly everything his Grandmother Gladys had left him updating the electrical, but the roof had begun to sprout leaks and needed to be replaced, the plumbing was on its very last leg and there were a few structural things that weren’t life threatening just yet, but if left untended, they eventually would be. The exterior desperately required stonework and some tuck-pointing, and several sections of support beams needed to be replaced in both the cellar and along the roofline due to old termite damage and rot.

Cain took another long gulp from his beer, feeling as if he were slowly sinking into quicksand. He felt panic building in his chest, the utter sense of hopelessness threatening to take him over. He was just about to hop out of his chair and run for the nearest exit when Eddie interrupted his fretting.

“Who’s staring at us?” Eddie’s shoulders and back writhed as if he physically felt someone’s gaze upon his back.

“How does he do that?” Cain asked, flabbergasted by what the blind man could see that the rest of them had been oblivious to.

Everyone except Eddie turned to look about the room. Cain somehow knew there was only one direction in which to concentrate his efforts.

Yep, there he is, still holding up the bar
.

Cain started to grin the instant their gazes met. Mr. Preppy did indeed still seem to have his heart set on conquering Cain’s wild unknown. In truth, the guy was a little slice of heaven, perhaps someplace warm and safe where Cain might rest his weary head for the evening…well…after all the spirited fucking and sucking, of course.

“Mrs. Madrigal has a gentleman caller,” Matt said to Eddie out of the corner of his mouth.

Cain took a cue from Nic and smacked Matt in the arm for his trouble. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“What’s he like?” Eddie asked, now grinning as well.

“Damn!” Nic hissed under her breath.

“That good?” Eddie asked,

Cain scowled over the implied insult. “I’m going to try forgetting you sounded
that
surprised by the fact.”

“I’m hotter than him.” Stu smirked as he nodded his head in confidence.

“Sorry, Cain,” Eddie mumbled. “Didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Since you won’t be fucking me tonight, that’s sort of a moot point, Stu.” Cain shook his head before reaching across the table to give Eddie a reassuring squeeze of forgiveness.

“The wife does frown upon any extracurricular activities.” Stu winked at Cain while nudging Nic in case she may have thought him serious for even a moment.

“Are you all still staring at him?” Eddie asked.

They glanced between one another, quickly turning back to face the table in shame.

“Way to drive him away there, people,” Eddie said.

“Shit, I—” Nic glanced up quickly then looked back down at the tabletop like a child who’d just been scolded. “I think he’s coming over!”

Cain sat up straight, eyes wide, more frightened by the high-pitched squeal of Nic’s voice than surprised over the fact he was about to land himself a hook-up for the evening.

Eddie shook his head as if he were attempting to get his hearing back. “Good god, woman, another octave or two higher and only dogs would’ve been able to hear that.”

“Pardon me for interrupting,” a deep, sexy southern voice came from behind Cain. “I couldn’t help but notice the entire table staring at me.”

Cain turned, looking upward at the man in question and trying his best to not laugh. “Hiya.”

“No pardon needed.” Eddie stood up from the table while yanking on Matt’s arm. “We were just leaving.”

Cain felt the heat flush his cheeks the instant Eddie had said it.

Not at all obvious.

Matt stood, clumsily. “Please take a seat, though. Cain was planning to hang.”

Cain rolled his eyes. “And I’m just dying to keep you company, sir. In exchange for taking me off their hands my daddies can offer you two goats, a head of cattle and skillet.”

Eddie was already shaking his head in disgust. “Please try and stick around long enough to make it through the first act, Mr…?”

“Abrams. Henry Abrams,” he said, extending his hand before noticing the white folding cane in Eddie’s hand.

Cain thought he was kinda cute, standing there slightly awkward for a moment as he tried to decide what to do with his hand now that it was already out there. He tossed Henry a lifeline by taking it instead, shaking his hand.

“The second act does have a bitchin’ musical number you don’t wanna miss, Mr. Abrams. My name is Cain Elliott.”

“May I sit?” Henry asked as everyone said their goodbyes to Eddie and Matt who scurried off into the crowd, whispering to one another.

“Please,” Nic said, smiling as if she were Cain’s self-appointed social director, having completely missed the cues Eddie had thrown down like gas on an already flaming forest fire.

Cain could tell Stu had not but wasn’t quite able to figure out a subtle way to tell his wife they were now intruding upon and likely impeding the sacred homo mating dance.

“So what is it you do, Henry?” Nic asked.

Cain could tell she was wired up and ready to play Debbie Drill Sergeant, already commencing with the interrogation.

Henry started to answer, but Cain dreamily placed two fingertips over the man’s lips.

He laughed to himself, realizing he’d had just enough alcohol to make him fearless. “Let’s not do the whole, this is me and that is you shakedown, gorgeous. I’m feeling like a little mystery might do me some good. How about you?”

Henry’s forehead crinkled, as if he were thinking real hard about whether or not he liked where this was going. His playful half smile told Cain he was still amused if nothing else.

“We can always have share-time later, you know, after—if the sex is hot, that is.”

Henry blushed, but he started to laugh. Cain could tell the man knew he was at least half joking for the benefit of their audience across the table.

“Well, what if he’s a serial killer or something?” Nic asked, visibly disgusted with Cain.

“He most likely wouldn’t come out and say so just because you asked him, dear.”

Nic started to object then must’ve realized Cain had a point.

“You aren’t a serial killer, right?” Cain muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“No, sir, I am not.” He smiled at Nic, pouring on the charm. “I hereby solemnly swear to inflict no pain or suffering upon your good friend.”

“Not even if I beg you to?” Cain asked.

Nic smiled, even blushed slightly as she giggled, settling in next to her husband.

Henry laughed, tossing his head back slightly as he reached over, placing his large hand on Cain’s thigh and giving it a seductive squeeze. “You’re too much.”

“He really is the worst,” Nic said, not looking pleased with Cain’s behavior.

“At behaving myself, she meant to say,” Cain added, glancing down at the hand on his lap.

Henry made no attempt to remove it, and Cain didn’t ask him to.

“Are you always like this?” Henry asked. “Or is this charming rogue routine you have going here a result of all the shots you had at the bar earlier?”

“Oh fuck!” Nic yelled, then placed a hand over her mouth as if she feared something else might escape it.

Cain had watched Stu whisper something into her ear moments before and assumed he was cluing her in to the fact they might need to make themselves scarce.

“That’s the right attitude, baby.” Stu got up, holding out a hand for his wife. “Let’s go home and fuck.”

Her eyes got as big as saucers, and her face bright red.

“Sure…baby,” she said with a squeak, scooting out of the booth.

Henry watched them, seeming to be amused by all of it, especially when Nic leaned back over the table for her glass, sucking down the rest of her cocktail before surrendering her territory by vacating completely.

Henry flagged down a passing waitress and ordered them each another round of beers, whispering something into her ear before allowing her to run off and complete her task.

“Hope you don’t mind.” Henry shrugged as if to say he didn’t really care either way as he lifted his beer bottle. “I took the liberty.”

“I am nearly empty.” Cain sighed, thinking that was true on so many levels. “And this is America, land-of-the-free-to-liquor-me-up-and-take-blessedly-sinful-advantage-of-me.”

“God bless America,” Henry said with a wink. “Though I can see why they shortened that down to just land of the free.”

“It was a bit wordy originally, I agree.” Cain smiled, allowing his head to fall to the side and turning slightly so he could stare into Henry’s dreamy, dark-brown eyes more easily. “Difficult to fit onto a button or a bumper sticker, I imagine.”

Henry nodded. “Indeed.”

“So you must be either new or just passing through, ‘cause I’ve lived in Ingle all my life and even though I’m a bit tipsy, I’m fairly certain I’ve never laid eyes upon you before.” Cain finished off the very last of his second draft, before discarding the mug onto the table.

Henry sat up in his chair, finally removing his hand from Cain’s leg. “So we’re going to have share-time, after all? That was what you called it, right?”

“Well, no, I don’t know… I was just being silly before,” Cain said, already missing the mildly possessive heat from Henry’s hand.

“Though I guess you weren’t necessarily asking me so much as surmising who you thought me to be.” Henry nodded, apparently thinking he had that right.

“Now, that sounds like an interesting idea. We should totally do that,” Cain said, grinning evilly.

“Do what, exactly?” Henry looked slightly frightened.

“You tell me who you think I am, and I’ll do the same for you.”

Henry now appeared to be
very
frightened. “That sounds dangerous.”

The waitress came back with two beers and one shot, handing one bottle to Henry before placing the other two items in front of Cain. Henry rummaged his wallet out of his back pocket and paid her, cautiously keeping one eye on Cain as he told her to keep the change.

“And it looks like you’ve started already.” Cain smirked, staring at the shot. “What does this shot say you think about me?”

“That you looked thirsty.” Henry shook his head, taking a drink as he tried to force back a grin.

“You’re good.” Cain picked up the shot glass and sucked down the rum, gasping slightly from the burn. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Welcome,” Henry replied.

Cain tapped the table with two of his fingers, making a drum-roll sound. “So come out with it already, Mr. Abrams. Inquiring minds wanna know.”

“You’re serious?” Henry asked.

“I’m ready to be dazzled by your intuitive prowess.” Cain went to take a drink but paused for a moment, slowly running the tip of his tongue along the lip of the beer mug, gently licking off some of the foam before finally taking a drink.

Henry watched intently, swallowing hard as his eyebrows slowly rose up. “That you’re a bit of tease is the only thing the coming to mind at the moment.”

Cain laughed loudly, placing the mug onto the table. “I likely deserved that. What else?”

Henry sighed, leaning forward in his chair until there was about a foot separating the two of them. “Aside from my initial musings upon seeing you come through the front door—which mostly had to do with me imagining what you’d look like naked—I’d have to say my first impression was that you seemed like someone who might be in need of a friend.”