Love in La Terraza (6 page)

Cain sat up, forcing his eyes all the way open. “Is everything okay? No one’s hurt? Greg’s okay?”

She ignored the question, staring off into space melodramatically. “I’m desperate, and you’re like my only hope and shit!”

Cain was confused then smirked. “Unbelievable. If this has something to do with the damn wedding—”

“Duh, what else?” Emily said, cutting him off.

“That does not constitute an emergency, Em!” Cain flopped back down into the bed. “Life-threatening injury, that would be an emergency. World War Three, terrorist attack, zombie riots…all acceptable reasons to break into my apartment and cock block me.”

“It’s your damn cousin! Mother’s tried everything!” Emily started pouting once more, something she’d never figured out didn’t work so well on anyone other than straight men. “She even begged the man, but he refuses to do the flowers for my wedding—which is
unacceptable
!!”

Cain sighed, glancing over at Henry who was now staring at her wide-eyed after that last shriekish outburst.

“Daddy even offered him triple his rate, and he just laughed and hung up on him.” She sprung up off the bed her hands up in the air ala Evita. “I mean,
really
…harsh much? So you see, I had to break in and cock block you. Eduardo has to do my flowers, and that stuck up, meany butt Charlie is holding him hostage!”

Emily had begun to hyperventilate, now pacing the room as if she were a caged animal. Henry turned to Cain, still in shock and asked, “Is the fifth date drama you were referring to?”

“No, sweetie.” Cain sighed, patting the poor man on the head then brushing the hair off his forehead. “I should be so lucky.”

That had Henry nodding blankly, his mind now occupied, likely reeling over the possibilities.

Cain turned his attention back to Emily. “Charlie and I don’t exactly get along, you know this?”

Cain loved his aunt dearly, but her son, Charlie, was anal, and not in the good way. Little Mister Holier Than Thou had always been entirely too perfect and never fucked up anything he set out to do. It was so annoying. They’d grown up next door to one another, but Charlie Donovan considered Cain to be a hot-gay-mess of the highest order—disorganized, a dreamer, always lost in one daydream or another. Charlie wasn’t wrong. Cain was all of those things. Charlie was merely the first and only person who disliked Cain because of them.

“Well, can’t you, like, talk to your moms?” Emily stomped her feet a few times, her snazzy clogs against the hardwood floor making her sound like a Clydesdale.

She was referring to Cain’s mother and his Aunt Tracy, whom Cain considered a second mother.

When Cain sighed, saying nothing, she ran to the side of the bed and dropped dramatically to her knees. “Pwease Cainey-wainey…my wedding
has
to be perfect…it’s my whole-life’s-happiness?”

Her wide, pleading blue eyes were more than he could handle. He folded like a cheap tent. “Fine, I’ll try talking to my mom.”

Henry nearly leapt out of the bed as Emily yelped and squealed at the top of her lungs. She projectiled herself up onto the bed, landing atop Cain who grunted from the force of her landing while doing his best to avoid her attempts to kiss him all over the face.

“I knew you would!” More squealing and face kissing. “I totally love you!” Still with the squealing and face kissing. “The best friend I ever had!” Emily added.

It wasn’t until Cain giggled like a little kid that she stopped then kissed Henry once on the cheek. “I don’t know you, but I love you, too!”

With that she was back on her feet, looking over her clothes. “I didn’t roll into any cum spots, right?”

Henry emitted some sort of indiscernible noise, as if he might be fearful for his life.

“Please, Emily…go away,” Cain pleaded.

“Okay, fine!” She clapped then ran around in a little circle before snatching her gigantic purse off the floor. “I’m going.”

“Thank god,” Cain whispered.

Henry nodded his agreement as she headed for the door.

She stopped, grabbing hold of the doorjamb and glanced back at Henry. “You fuck him good and hard now, sweetie. Cain likes it a little rough.”

Cain’s mouth fell open as she clomped down the stairs, giggling and clapping.

Henry had the tiniest hint of amusement on his face as he turned to Cain. “A little rough, huh?”

Cain laughed nervously. “Well…no! I mean…not
really
.”

Henry rolled atop Cain, who could feel he was already on the way back to hard. “Which is it, no or not really?”

Cain was having a little trouble catching his breath as Henry ground into him. He watched nervously as Henry slid his hands up Cain’s arms, gathering both wrists into one large fist, gripping them tightly together.

“I’ll take your silence to mean ‘not really’.”

With that, Henry covered Cain’s mouth with his own, swallowing Cain’s moan. Cain’s erection was painful enough considering how badly he needed to pee, but when Henry forced his legs open Cain realized he was about to be full of something else.

* * * *

Henry stood just outside the door to Cain’s apartment, unable to make himself stop grinning like an idiot. He shook his head, surveying the stunning courtyard in the early morning daylight. The sound of rushing water from the fountain relaxed any remaining tension from his shoulders that the sex hadn’t.

He felt amazing.

This
place
was amazing.

Best of all, Henry was beginning to believe that Cain might end up being pretty amazing, as well.

Hopping down the few steps onto the shared courtyard, Henry perused all the stone planting beds, lushly filled with leafy greens and already sprouting flowers.

“Can’t believe he takes care of this all by himself.” He quickly surveyed the entire common area, counting fourteen, no fifteen, large planters, plus another four even larger areas around the dogwoods. That didn’t include all the landscaping along the exterior wall he’d passed on their way in last night.

“Absolutely amazing. It’s like an oasis.”

There were hanging planters placed along the balconies leading off the back end of the complex and a deck area built up on a platform, sitting beneath a pergola made from thick cedar beams. A long picnic-style table sat underneath.

The landscaping alone would’ve been a full-time job in and of itself.

“Color me impressed.” Henry took another deep breath, reminding himself that he needed to proceed with caution. “For once, don’t rush in full force, asshole.”

It was his typical M.O. to meet a guy, get a little too into him before he should then crash and burn for coming on too strong or discovering he wasn’t the only man dating the object of his affection. He’d tired of all the games, tired of wasting time on people who weren’t worthy of it and was sick of finding himself disappointed at the end of every relationship.

Moving too quickly was probably not a good idea.

He’d literally just moved to town and was already making plans with the first guy to strike his fancy. They’d just met for crying out loud. Would it kill either of them to take a day? It was stupid. He wasn’t just asking for it; he was practically begging to be screwed over.

“You don’t even have his phone number so you can’t call and cancel dinner, you idiot.”

He could go back and knock on the door and make up some excuse.

He loathed the idea of lying to Cain. Henry despised being lied to, so what would it say about him if he started off doing the very thing he hated.

“Small town. No doubt, reputations are made quickly, and they stick.”

What harm will dinner do? I mean, really. It’s just dinner. We don’t even have to have sex…

Though, after the exceedingly hot fuck they’d just shared, being able to keep their hands off one another seemed unlikely. He was already slightly addicted to making Cain plead.

“Gooooood morning,” a feminine voice called out behind him.

Henry turned to find Cain’s girlfriend from the night before standing behind him, holding out a large cup of coffee and smiling from ear to ear. He cleared his throat, trying to recall if he’d ever gotten her name while blushing slightly at having been busted doing the walk of—well, more like the linger of shame, considering he was still loitering.

“Is that for me?” Henry asked, a bit confused.

“I left Cain’s on his stoop,” she said with a wink. “Name’s Nicole, but everyone calls me Nic. I gotta run. Errands. You can leave the mug on my stoop or with Cain. Grrreat seeing you again.”

She reached over patting him on the chest a couple times while winking. “Such a stud.”

He took the coffee and thanked her, confused as she turned in a twirl of turquoise and hemp jewelry, dark hair and white cotton before heading toward the gate.

“Glad you spent the whole night,” she called back, giggling.

He choked on the coffee, which went down the wrong pipe. He spun around when Frank Sinatra
drifted
across the air. A pair of voices, which were not Frank, began singing along to
Mind if I Make Love to You
.

“Guess everyone’s awake,” Henry said, conceding the boys weren’t so bad at backing up Mr. Sinatra.

Taking a sip of coffee, Henry went back to worshiping at the marvel Mario Bello had gifted to the people who’d been fortunate enough to have lived between these walls over the years.

The stories they could likely tell.

He’d have to try working a full tour of the place out of the landlord.

His smile immediately faded when he saw that creepy asshole from the night before coming down a stairwell and walking along the far side of the complex. Something about that guy really chafed him. The way he stuck next to the wall, like a rat that refused to walk out in the open. He never once looked up and made eye contact, but Henry had no doubt Mr. Snead was aware of his presence.

“Something wrong with that boy,” a man said from behind him. “Creepy kid, that one.”

Henry turned in time to see a second old man coming out of the apartment adjacent from Cain’s and standing next to the one who’d spoken to him.

“Probably into devil worship,” the new one said.

“I’m Tony. This is my brother Vito, and you must be the new love interest.”

Henry smiled despite not caring for the term “new” love interest. At least, it insinuated there may not be any others. He walked over to shake both their hands only to have one of them shove a fresh-baked scone into his instead.

It was still warm.

“You looked hungry,” Tony said.

At least, he thought it was Tony. They resembled one another a little too closely. He guessed them to be around seventy, each one in baggy pants held up with suspenders and sporting a slight potbelly. An unruly mass of cottony white hair stuck straight up into the air on each of them, as if they’d been surviving without a brush or comb for days.

Aware he was being equally assessed by each of them, Henry smiled, hoping he was coming off favorably. His stomach grumbled after catching a good whiff of the pastry which appeared to have fresh blueberries baked inside. Henry took a bite and chewed slowly, unable to hold back the grin of appreciation.

“Wow,” he mumbled, taking a second bite. “Amazing.”

Tony gently smacked Vito in the arm as if to congratulate him on a job well done then asked. “Don’t suppose your some kinda handyman, huh?”

“Architect,” Henry said, laughing as the hope on their faces was replaced with disappointment.

“Next to useless,” Vito said as the other nodded in agreement.

“Still, you continue to make our Cain there as happy as you apparently did about,” Vito stopped to glance at his watch, “forty minutes ago, and you’ll be all right in our book.”

Henry didn’t need a mirror to know his face was now blood red.

“Next time, tell Cain to shut his bedroom window,” Tony pointed up, and Henry followed the line of sight to the open second-story window. “Sounds have a way of magnifying in this courtyard, you know.”

“Still, we congratulate you on your incredible penis,” Vito said with a shrug.

“Indeed!” Tony started to chuckle. “Cain screams very highly of it.”

They each cackled over their own joke as Henry forced a swallow, sucking down some coffee while trying to get past his own humiliation. The brothers gave him two thumbs up then turned abruptly toward the sound of a door opening to one of the apartments in the back.

Henry was just this side of mortified, now understanding some of the odd comments Nic had made, having referred to him as a stud. He counted apartments, adding up exactly how many people had listened to them having sex.

The brothers whispered at one another as an older woman came out of her apartment all decked out in a pantsuit. Her hair was dark red, and her makeup was perhaps a bit much for daytime, which had Henry imagining her to be some aging Mary Kay rep. who refused to retire.

Henry spun around, hearing a door behind him. He cringed slightly, sucking down the rest of his coffee as Cain grinned, appearing curious before noticing the coffee and baked goods Henry held. He hadn’t intended to still be here, but as his gaze locked with Cain’s, he wasn’t sorry he’d stuck around. Butterflies seemed slightly inappropriate for a man his age, let alone over a guy he knew next to nothing about, but there they were, fluttering around and making a mess of his gut.