Eternal (13 page)

“Ooh yeah, do that again, baby,” he said, teasing
me.

I squeezed his perfect ass before my hand probed
his back pant pocket. I pulled out his worn leather wallet. It looked like it
had been through a war. “Well, well, what do I have here?” I flipped it open. I
wiggled my other arm free. “Sexy picture on your driver’s license,” I
commented, still giggling. Cayden slapped my ass in retaliation. “Oh my God!
You have a membership to Blockbuster Video.” I continued to laugh.

“Snoop much?” He bounced me playfully.

“Hmm…we have one, two, three platinum cards.
Shop much, babe?”

Cayden’s fingers poked my ribs, sending me into
another round of giggles and wiggles.

“And what else do we have?” I continued. “A
receipt for….” I unfolded a paper, “McDonalds?”

“What? I like Egg McMuffins,” he countered
before he made me squirm with another well-placed assault to my ribs.

“And three hundred and twenty-two dollars in
cash and….” I couldn’t breathe any longer I was laughing so hard.

“Listen here, woman,” Cayden joked.
 
“Step away from the wallet and you won’t get
hurt.

“You are so bad,” I said.

“I am,” he admitted.

One hand held me over his shoulder while his
other hand brushed across the arch of my foot, sending me into a complete fit
of giggles.

Chandler
hadn’t left. “The laundry room even....” Cayden took his foot and
shut the laundry room door on him. “Hey!”
Chandler
yelled through the door.

 
“Cayden,
put me down,” I protested. His hands still moving, fingers still tickling.

“Nope.”

His hands went to the soft spot behind my knees.

I squealed again. Cayden chuckled, but continued
his tickle torture. I tucked his wallet back into his back pocket. “Okay, I
surrender, your wallet is safe.”

A few minutes passed with Cayden tickling me and
let’s face it, in truth he was also copping the periodic feel when he must have
heard my stomach growl.

“We better eat something,” he said. “I can’t let
my woman starve.”

 
Leaving
the smell of laundry detergent behind us, he opened the laundry room door and
toted me into the kitchen.

“Um, babe, you can put me down now,” I
suggested. “I feel like…me cave-woman.” He guffawed. “Yeah, you clubbed me over
the head and are dragging me off to your caveman lair.”

“But this caveman so enjoys the view.” Cayden
nibbled at my shorts with his teeth.

I felt his nose move the bottom edge of my
shorts up. “Stop.” I sniggered. He didn't. He licked my right butt cheek. I
squirmed. He bit me. I wiggled. He kissed the bite. “You are so bad.”

“I know,” he said assuredly.

At last, my feet hit the floor when Cayden put
me down.

“What do you guys have to eat around here?” I
asked.

He shrugged. “Don’t know really, but I know what
I want to eat,” he suggested, swatting my ass.

I hit his arm. “Stop…you need to behave
yourself, Mr. Cain.”

I poked around in the kitchen to see what we
were going to eat. I found the strangest array of foods. In the refrigerator
rested miscellaneous jars of chunky and smooth peanut butter, grape and
strawberry jelly, cheese, butter, milk, eggs, chocolate milk, Coke, Sprite, and
imported beer. The cabinets held crackers, several bags of potato chips, some
barbeque some jalapeño flavored, bread, SpaghettiO’s, and Captain Crunch…. I
opened up the freezer and was taken aback by the oodles of frozen Hot Pockets,
microwave burritos, and scores of boxed pizza. I decided to make grilled cheese
sandwiches. They did have cheese, butter, and bread.

“Do you guys ever eat anything other than Hot
Pockets, burritos, and pizza?”

“Sure,”
Chandler
said as he strolled into the kitchen. “We eat PB & J.”

“I love Hot Pockets,” Cayden interjected.

I giggled in response.

“Who does the shopping?” I asked as I pulled the
cheese out from the refrigerator.

“Gretta does a lot of different errands and all
the grocery shopping for us. Sara takes care of the house, makes sure we aren’t
living in squalor when we are here,”
Chandler
returned.

“Gretta and Sara,” I repeated, “so will I meet
them?” I was curious.

“Not this trip,” Cayden said. “I wanted you all
to myself.”

“Huh,” I commented.

“Gretta is old enough to be our grandmother, and
Sara has a girlfriend so if you are thinking….”

“I wasn’t thinking anything, babe.”

“Uh-huh,” Cayden smirked before kissing me
breathless.

Let me just say those Cain boys can eat. I
cooked a load of grilled cheese sandwiches of which we ate this time instead of
throwing. I had one grilled cheese sandwich with a few chips along and a glass
of milk. Between
Chandler
and Cayden, they ate eleven grilled cheese sandwiches, one entire bag of potato
chips, barbeque-flavored, and drank a gallon of chocolate milk. Only men could
eat this way and still look good. It really is not fair.

After our elegant dinner, Cayden washed and
Chandler
dried the
dishes. Both of them poking and hitting each other like bratty kids before I
squeezed in between them to add the pan I grilled the sandwiches on into the
soapy water. That decision was maybe not my best. I glanced up to see Cayden
and
Chandler
look at each other over-top my head. They smiled quite mischievously.

“Oh no you don’t,” I said, glowering as the
soapy water flew up in my direction….

It was late when I made it to bed. Cayden,
already in bed, watched me cross the room. I smiled. I had to. He rolled back
the sheets on the bed for me. I slipped in next to my future, my love, my life.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” Cayden
asked.

“Sure.”

Cayden picked up a remote from his side table and
pushed one of the many buttons. Piano music, soft and tranquil, started to waft
through the room.

“Cayden, tell me about
England
.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

“Anything, everything, is it pretty?”

“The manor house we lived in with my aunt was very
pretty, with wide expanses of countryside, rolling green hills, blue skies, and
picturesque little villages scattered about.”

Cayden smiled brightly as he continued to
describe what was once his childhood home. As he spoke, I could see the morning
dew, which sparkled like diamonds, on the wildflowers that surrounded the
grounds next to the moss-worn rock wall. The wall separated the property from
the grand old trees that dotted Cayden’s rolling countryside. Upon the grounds,
saw gardens vast, bursting with color and groomed to perfection. Roses, lilac,
gardenias, all sent sweet sensations to me. Warm pleasing fragrances brushed
across my face. I felt the sides of my mouth curve upward, forming a gentle
hint of a smile.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked before
his fingers brushed the corners of my lips softly.

“I’m picturing what you are telling me. Don’t
stop, tell me more,” I urged.

He laughed his low even laugh and continued. I
was with Cayden when we approached the Queen Ann Manor quietly and respectfully.
I was immediately stricken speechless by the timeless architecture of the manor
house. I studied each window with their individual panes of glass. I looked
deeply at the intricate colors of the stonewalls, finding gray, blues, greens,
mauve. The doors stood tall and wide, brushed bright red in a welcome entrance.
The large windows perched at each side were flanking the entrance to Cayden’s
home, our home, in grandeur. Upon our entrance, I found the home to be quite
stunning with all of the finest antiques throughout along with numerous hand
painted oils, tapestries and other artwork hanging everywhere. Everything in
place, perfect.

“Are you still picturing it?” Cayden asked,
breaking my dreams.

“Yes,” I confessed. I closed my eyes and
listened to his soft silk ridden voice.

We continued to explore Cayden’s home with
childlike curiosity, allowing each room to open up to my dreams like the
familiar pages of an old novel. The home was warm, welcoming. With my hand
intertwined with his, we made our way upstairs where we laid claim to one of
the most simple but beautiful rooms with a wonderful view of the property. Just
beneath the north window, I could see the large expanse of yet another garden.
There within it, perfectly placed in the middle, stood a whitewashed arch
dripping with wisteria. I pulled back the curtain and knew I wanted to see this
view, always. This room, our room, was light and airy and allowed me a real
sense of calm, peace and home. The yellow tea rose wallpaper set the mood of
the room while the large four-poster bed sat proudly in the middle of it.
We
would be happy here.

“
London
is amazing and pretty in a different way, I guess.” Then Cayden began to take
me with him down the city streets of his youth, I dreaming at his side.

I woke to the pewter color of the sky breaking
out of the night, shifting into differing shades of silvered pink dawn outside
the windows of Cayden’s
Hollywood
home. He was sleeping. I woke first for once. I tucked my knees up to my chest
and placed my arms around them, resting my cheek on the top of my hands. The
ring shimmered. I looked at it and twisted it around and around on my finger. I
wondered when he had time to buy this ring. He moved slightly, so I froze for a
moment.

Cayden was lying on his right side stretched
long across the bed. The color of his chestnut hair shimmered highlights of
bronze in the morning light. His head was lying on a large white pillow. My
gaze followed the line of his neck that extended and curved into the muscles on
top of his shoulder. The dim light seemed to shimmer off Cayden’s body,
accenting areas of light and shade as both followed the angles and planes of
his flawlessness.

I listened to Cayden breathe, his breath coming
and going smoothly that held no hint of distress, only quiet even breathing. I
watched his back move softly with each breath, the rise the fall. His muscles
were relaxed in his sleep but still very evident beneath the smooth alabaster
of his skin. The shape of his shoulder gave way, inclined to his arm. I outlined
his distinctly strong bicep and the shape of his forearm that was resting at
his side.

I studied the line of his forearm, looking at
the line of dark hair where it started on top of his hand. His long fingers
curled slightly around the tip edge of the white sheet. My gaze naturally
flowed to Cayden’s back bare, his shoulder blade, with his musculature defined.
I studied the curve of him, following the flow of his spine into the small of
his back where his two dimples started before reaching the curve of his round
firm butt. The sheet was covering crooked over his tight waist while the lines
of his muscles curved downward into the cut of his hip. One foot peeked out
from the bottom of the sheet.

I reached out toward him and began to trace the
high definition of his sculptured cheekbone without touching him. I kept my
fingertips above the surface of his skin, careful not to disturb Cayden from
his dreams with my touch nor wishing to interrupt me from my dream of him. My
fingers knew the way. They were taking in the shape of his jaw, his chin, the
slope of his nose the very slightest bit from a straight line at the bridge.
His dark eyebrows that thinned and narrowed at the outer edges and his brow
peaceful as my fingers moved. I drew the length of his dark lashes that
extended out from the gentle curve of his eye and the slight shadow falling
across the hollow of his eye. I continued my quest, saving his lips for last,
still outlining, never touching.

Every line of his body, each winding curve,
every splendid muscle, each faultless angle and shape of Cayden was familiar to
me, filling my memory from what went before me yet knowing he has always been.
Looking at him, he filled my eyes with wonder. The very existence of Cayden
still boggled my mind and set it free. The splendid youth of him and the
complete knowledge of him overtook me. In all of my life, whether it ended in
this very moment, or whether I lived to be a hundred and ten, Cayden like
Austin
had always been and
would always be the most beautiful creation of my world.

Chapter Eight

Under Par

I felt fevered, thinking nothing of it at first,
until I placed my hand to my forehead. My skin was hot and I felt strange with
body aches. My head felt dull. My throat flamed. I was getting sick, or
maybe
I am already sick.
I moved my legs. My stomach twisted and turned. The
torrent in my stomach forced me to get up and sprint into the bathroom.