Love in La Terraza (19 page)

Emily giggled, shaking her head at him. “Isn’t cute when they act like they actually have a say in it?”

Henry scowled her way, not appreciating the insinuation as she plopped herself onto Cain’s lap. “I take it this celebration means you’ll continue to be the slum lord of La Trashaza?”

“Don’t call it that, butt munch,” Cain said, winking at her.

“I’m glad you get to keep your odd little apartment building.” She sighed softly, taking a drink from Cain’s beer. “Anything my bestie wants, he should get.”

Cain shook his head at her as Matt scooted a chair over for Emily to sit in.

Cain’s new husband still seemed preoccupied, likely mulling over everything Hamilton had said during his drive-by. Cain did his best to control the conversation so Henry wouldn’t have to try to split his focus so much. It was the best thing about being with Henry in his humble opinion, being near him was all Cain needed from the man, to feel his presence.

As long as Cain had that, he had more than any man had a right to ask, though he’d happily accept more whenever offered.

* * * *

Henry sighed, smiling when Cain squeezed him tighter as they slow danced around the fountain back at La Terraza. The Scalia brothers had their windows open, and Tony Bennett was belting out
It Only Happens When I Dance With You
.

A light mist brushed across Henry’s arm as a soft breeze blew through, and Cain chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Henry asked, his eyes closed, enjoying the heat from Cain’s body radiating into his.

“Nothing really,” Cain mumbled, his face buried in Henry’s chest. “The mist from the fountain tickling the hairs on my arm, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Henry groaned his understanding.

“Worse then me Mum and Dad, those two are,” Thrash said, sounding disappointed by the sight he was forced to behold.

Henry’s eyes popped open, and he scowled at the little fucker, but he didn’t offer a response beyond that.

“Leave them be, shit head,” Pixie said, slapping Thrash in the gut as they headed for the gate, on the way out to their next gig.

Thrash coughed from the force of her fist.

“They’re kinda sweet,” she continued, “as far as boring gay dudes go.”

Henry grinned, hearing Cain laughing under his breath.

All in all, La Terraza was fairly quiet on this Friday’s eve. The heat from the early September sunshine was all but gone as dark had descended upon them. The warm glow from all the twinkle lights throughout the courtyard and coming from the fountain created a soft, misty haze as Henry and Cain kept time with the music.

Mrs. Robinson held a finger up to her lips as she tried to quietly sneak by them on her way out for a late date. The click from her heels gave her away, though.

“Have a lovely evening, Mrs. Robinson,” Cain said.

Henry glanced down to see he hadn’t even opened his eyes. He’d just known it was her by the sound of her shoes.

“Thank you, boys,” she whispered. “I’d offer the same, but I appear to be a little too late.”

Henry winked at her when Cain moaned his thanks.

Nic and Stu still hadn’t made it back from the bar, but there was a soft glow coming from the front window of Matt and Eddie’s apartment that had Henry thinking those two were most likely getting it on.

They’d gotten rid of the criminal element in the building and rented out the last vacant apartment to Henry’s old assistant, Anna. Of course, now that he would likely be going back to work with Hamilton, she might very well end up being his assistant again.

Cain had spent the entire morning outside, working on the landscaping and had never looked quite as happy as he had coming inside earlier that afternoon covered in dirt and sweat.

Everything was as it should be.

“Think we’ll still be here, dancing like this in another forty or fifty years?” Henry asked.

“I’d like to think so, assuming I can still stand up,” Cain said, resting his chin in the divot of Henry’s chest as he looked upward. “You have me down on my knees so often they may be completely blown out by that point.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Henry winked. “I hadn’t thought about the repercussions and the wear and tear on your fragile, little body. Terrible to think there’ll come a day when you can no longer get down on your knees for me. I’ll go find you some knee pads tomorrow. Need to prolong that impending catastrophe for as long as possible.”

“Why the hell I find you so sexy when you’re behaving like a complete and utter ass is beyond me.”

“We’re gay men, Cain. We’re supposed to like ass—genetically predisposed to being drawn to the ass.”

Cain laughed under his breath, twisting out of Henry’s arms and heading toward the stoop to their apartment.

“Where are you going?” Henry asked.

“Inside, so we can test out this theory of yours on ass.”

Henry grinned, his eyes lighting up as he shoved his hands into his pockets and followed Cain, lagging just far enough behind to enjoy the view he was about to unwrap. “You do realize I may require repeated access to your ass, baby…really have to pound it into you again and again…before you truly trust my hypothesis?”

Cain turned after pushing open the front door and began walking backward inside the apartment. “This is America, land-of-the-free-to-take-blessedly-sinful-advantage-of-me, remember?”

Henry hopped up the two steps, following Cain inside and muttering, “God
bless
America.”

About the Author

I am a gay man living in Missouri...I can hear the gasps already!! How very un-chic of me, yes I know. It was here I was born and here I have stayed.

I'm currently single but always looking for that special someone that makes my heart skip a beat...in addition to being able to put up with my neurotic ass. The worst thing about being a romance writer is finding a real life hottie that can live up to the fantasy I create in my head and subsequently thrust upon him before actually getting to know the real him. I can hear you getting all judgie... it's an occupational hazard!! To all my past and future boyfriends, my sincerest apologies. I can't help myself!

I was the youngest of four children and the only boy, so needless to say, I was spoiled rotten. I've always had an extravagant fantasy life. When I played with my Star Wars action figures as a child, I liked to make up my own stories. Naturally, Luke Skywalker and Han Solo were totally meant for each other, and Princess Leia made a bitchin' wise cracking Fag Hag.

I somehow managed to survive high school living in a small racist town in Southeast Missouri and emerged unscathed, realizing life was too short to pretend to be anything other than who I was. I was the little homo that could... so damn it, I did! It was all very Lifetime Movie Network meets After School Special I assure you.

After a few stints in college, I eventually signed up for a Creative Writing course. I took the class because there were no tests. For once my scholastic laziness paid off, and I found an outlet for all the fantasies running amuck in my head. It was love at first write, and I've been doing it off and on ever since.

Now I've decided it's time to un-barricade the doors and unleash my imagination onto the world. So very sorry world!! My fantasy life is now available for public consumption and I'm desperately hoping you're really, really hungry.

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