Page 32 of Taking Chances in Cedarwood

“Thank you. I owe you so much.” Cain dressed in seconds. “These feel good. They smell like you, too.”

“You’re poetic.” He offered Cain one of his college T-shirts. “Will this do?”

“It smells like you, too, so yes.” Cain rounded the bed. “My ass is still sore from last night and I’m loving every second. I’m falling hard for you.”

“Cain?” He and Cain could be separated by circumstances, yet he needed to hear this. “You are?”

“All the way.” Cain kissed him again. “We’ll meet them. I can’t guarantee this won’t be a circus or shouting match, but I’ll do my best to shield you.”

“Cain.” He couldn’t ask so much of him.

“I got you into this and I’m not letting them win.” Cain tugged the socks onto his feet. “You’re talking to a born performer. This is what I do. I’ll give my best performance yet because I can’t afford to lose anything else.”

Andrew nodded. All he could do was trust Cain and have faith in their bond. He followed Cain downstairs again. Cain led the way and his commanding manner showed the dominant side of his personality. He and Cain donned boots, then stepped onto the porch.

Cain held up both hands as the group bombarded them in front of the house. “First, listen up. I’m only saying this once. Cape? You’re here for the magazine, yes? Brought Larkin with you? Great. Hey, man. We’ll get some photos now.”

Andrew admired Cain’s ability to rise to the situation. He wondered if Cain was really so helpless after all. But Cain had said this was him playing a part.

The woman opened her mouth, but Cain stopped her.

“Don’t start with me, Mother. I’ve got this.” Cain strode over to the split-rail fence where Andrew’s father had once grown grapes. He posed against the post. “Larkin?”

“You’re not fixed with makeup.” The woman barreled toward him. “You don’t look perfect. Your shirt is wrinkled, and have you combed your hair?”

“Fuck perfect.” Cain posed a bit more, then climbed behind the wheel of Andrew’s truck.

Andrew grinned to himself. His man was so pretty—even if his hair wasn’t combed and his shirt looked a bit slept-in. He’d bet the photos would be dynamic and showcase the best parts of Cain.

Cain left the truck and waved to Andrew. “Babe?”

Babe?Andrew snapped into action and jogged over to Cain. “Yeah?”

Cain’s mother shrieked, “You cannot do this!”

Cain grasped Andrew’s hands and stood behind the truck. “Here.”

“Open the tailgate,” Larkin said.

Andrew let go long enough to do as told. Cain grasped his hands again, then glanced over his shoulder. “Cape? I’ll give you an exclusive when this is over, on the condition you keep this story under wraps until after I give the interview.”

“Done,” Cape agreed.

“You can’t do that,” Cain’s mother shouted. “Edwin, tell him.”

Cain’s father said nothing.

“Where were we?” Cain turned his attention to Andrew. “I’m coming out and this is my Independence Day. Will you come with me? I’m out, and we’re us. No one can say anything to change my mind.”

Andrew cupped Cain’s jaw and kissed him. “Yes.”

Cain threaded his arms around him. “Happy Independence Day to me.”

“Hold that.” Larkin snapped photos. “This is perfect. Cain? Sit on the tailgate and Andrew, situate yourself between his knees.”

Cain scooted up onto the truck bed, rested his forehead against Andrew’s and stuffed his fingers in Andrew’s pockets. “I adore you.”

Andrew wanted to reply, but the words weren’t there. Cain humbled and honored him. He’d never thought he’d have someone like him in his life.

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