by J. M. Snyder
“Really? What a shame. I’m sorry,” Emory said, reaching out to lay a hand on Cam’s forearm.
Was Emory expressing support for Cam’s predicament, or putting out a feeler to see if he was picking up the right signals regarding where Cam’s interests lay?
“Thanks, but it’s not a total bummer. This is all so beautiful.” Cam gestured to the lake. “And I met you,” he said, letting Emory know he was on the right track by covering the man’s hand with his own.
They looked at each other for a moment. Then Emory, without making a move to end the contact, said, “Say, why don’t you come over to my place for breakfast—you haven’t eaten yet have you?”
“No.”
“Good. My air conditioning is working just fine. You’ll be more comfortable. And I make a mean omelet.”
“That’s very nice of you to offer, but…” Cam removed his hand and glanced at Mr. Magee. He was torn between his desire to see where this was going, and his loyalty to his pet. He couldn’t leave the hound to swelter in the hot cabin alone.
Emory evidently saw Cam looking at the dog and added, “Oh, Mr. Magee is invited, too. Remember, I told you we loved our bassets.”
Emory’s reference to the fact that he and his wife loved bassets caused Cam to wonder if the missus was also here, up in the house. That would be a downer. He was tempted to ask, but didn’t want to bring her up, lest he cause Emory to back off from what seemed to be the beginning of a very enjoyable relationship.
“Well, all right. Thanks, if it’s not too much trouble,” Cam said.
“No trouble at all,” Emory said enthusiastically. “The house has been empty much too long. I’ll go back up and get things started. Come whenever you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.” Emory gave Cam’s arm a squeeze, turned, and started up the bank.
Cam watched him go. His last question about Emory was answered—the man had a superb ass. Cam smiled. Now that things seemed to be going the way he had hoped, he would be able to appreciate that nice ass even more. That was if Mrs. Cauldwell wasn’t around.
* * * *
Cam went back to the cabin. He fed Mr. Magee. While the dog ate and Cam waited for the washer to be done, so he could put things in the dryer, he stared out the window over the sink. Through the trees he could see the lake with sunlight sparkling on the ripples. The setting was serene, beautiful, and—romantic. He thought of Emory and the potential for what might soon be happening. His pulse quickened. Cam looked down at Magee, who had made short work of his breakfast.
“It looks good for me, Magee. Emory is the total package. But you gotta help me out here. I don’t want to put my heart ahead of my dick. You know all too well what happens when I do that. So, if you think I’m falling for the guy, you let me know, okay?”
Mr. Magee cocked his head to one side and wagged his tail.
“Yeah, I know he’s married, thank God. But I may still need a reminder to keep him at arm’s length and my heart out of it.”
The hound gave a soft woof.
Cam knelt and ruffed Mr. Magee’s long ears. “Thanks for having my back, buddy.”
The washer signaled the end of its cycle. Cam rose to transfer the clothing and sheets to the dryer. Then he dressed in his sexiest, form fitting pale green tee and tan cargo shorts.
Cam and Magee left the cabin and made their way along a flagstone path through the wooded area that separated Emory’s house from the Grafton’s cottage. As they emerged from the trees, Cam stopped in surprise. The Cauldwell residence was more a mansion than a house—immensely larger than the cabins and cottages surrounding it. It stood two stories high with a walk-out basement that led to a patio, giving it a third level. Above the patio was a wrap-around veranda.
Cam and Mr. Magee made their way around to the front of the house. A wide curved drive led from the road. To his right was athree car attached garage. A basketball standard and hoop were cemented into the drive on the other side. The grounds were landscaped like a botanical garden.
“Wonder what he does for a living to afford a place like this?” Cam asked Mr. Magee, who wagged his tail but offered no opinion.
They walked up the four steps that led to the arched entry way. Cam rang the bell. “What do you bet he has a butler?” he quipped.
Mr. Magee sat down and cocked his head to one side as if pondering the question.
It was Emory, however, who opened the door. He was still dressed in his shorts with no shirt.
“I feel that I may be overdressed,” Cam said, laughing and pinching the material of his shirt and continuing the game of I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Emory laughed. “That’s easily remedied.”
Cam took note, but didn’t take his shirt off.
As they stepped into the foyer, the cooled air felt good. “This is quite a place,” Cam commented as he gazed around at the high vaulted ceiling with its crystal chandelier.
“Yeah. We built it as our get-away home. Used it for weekends away from the city, for family vacations, family events, and the like, when the kids were little.
“Then this isn’t your primary residence?” Cam asked, somewhat overawed.
“Oh, no. That’s in Chicago. This place, and our home in the city are really too big now that the kids are all grown and…” Emory’s voice trailed off. He looked around the room with what Cam thought was a wistful expression. Then he sighed and continued. “I keep it because the kids still bring their families up here once in a while for weekends and vacations. And I use it when I have a work project to get done and need to be alone away from distractions at the office. That’s why I’m here this weekend.”
That means the little woman probably isn’t here, Cam deduced. If that’s why he’s here, I wonder if I could be one of those distractions. Cam smiled to himself.
“What business are you in?” Cam asked.
“Architecture. I’m the executive vice-president of Slater and Jacoby,” Emory said matter-of-factly.
Cam had heard of the firm. It was one of the largest in the U.S.
“What sort of things do you design?” he asked.
“Office buildings, hotels, factories. I designed this place for my wife.” Cam again caught that wistful expression as Emory gestured around the room. “But enough of that. I bet you’re starved. Come on. Breakfast is almost ready. I’ll take you on a house tour later, if you like.”
As they walked through the spacious living room, Cam took note of the elegant furnishings and free-standing fireplace. Floor to ceiling window walls covered the entire length of the room and opened onto the veranda, which overlooked the lake.
They went into a state-of-the-art kitchen, which would have made any high class restaurant chef green with envy.
Emory caught Cam’s wide-eyed reaction and chuckled. “Yeah, a bit of overkill, especially now since…” He didn’t finish that sentence. Instead he continued with, “It was too much, even when all the kids were home, to be honest. But this is what Arlene wanted, so this is what she got.”
Cam assumed Arlene must be Emory’s wife.
“Normally I eat outside on the veranda, but with this heat I think we’d be more comfortable eating in here if it’s okay with you?” Emory asked, pointing at a table which was next to another window wall with a lake view, already set.
“Whatever you say. You’re the boss,” Cam said.
Cam sat. Emory served a sumptuous meal of western omelet, sausages, toasted English muffins with orange marmalade, juice, and coffee. As they ate they made small talk about the area, Cam’s job, and their mutual love for dogs. Mr. Magee did his best to be polite, sitting between the two men, shifting from paw to paw as he watched them eat.
“May I?” Emory asked when the men had finished eating. He was holding a piece of sausage in his hand and nodding toward Mr. Magee.
“Sure, I spoil the hell out of him,” Cam replied. “But I always make him work for it. Here, let me show you. Hold the sausage over his head.”
A
s Emory did, Cam said, “Magee, sing for your supper!”
The basset threw back his head and bayed. Emory smiled.
“Now dance.”
The hound spun in circles, his head touching the tip of his tail as he did so.
Emory laughed heartily. On Cam’s cue he bent and offered the treat, which Mr. Magee politely took from his hand, then swallowed whole.
“They don’t take much time to savor it do they,” Emory said, raising his eyes to Cam’s.
The two men held each other’s gaze for a brief moment. Cam’s cock tingled.
Emory broke the spell by asking, “How is it you know the Graftons?”
“I work with their son, Alan.”
They spoke for a while about what a nice family the Graftons were, then Emory asked, “Now, how about the tour I promised you?”
“What about the dishes? I’ll help you wash.”
“Heck no! I’ll take care of them later. You’re my guest, remember?”
“All right, but I’d really like to help. The breakfast was fantastic.
“No problem,” Emory said, laying his hand on Cam’s that had been resting near his on the table. “You’re helping me more than you realize.”
The statement and the affectionate physical contact caught Cam off guard, and he looked at Emory quizzically.
“Come on,” Cam’s host said. “Let’s go.”
They started the tour by walking back through the living room. As they began to exit to the veranda, Mr. Magee opted to hop on one of the overstuffed chairs and make himself at home.
“Magee!” Cam called. The dog turned and looked at Cam as if to say, “What’s the problem?”
“That’s all right. Arlene’s not here,” Emory said, smiling at the dog. “One of our differences of opinion. She said dogs belonged on the floor. I loved having them next to me on the couch, in bed, wherever. She loved our dogs, but had stricter rules than I did. She would have had a fit, if I had fed ours from the table like I did Mr. Magee.”
Mr. Magee evidently got the message, as he circled twice before settling in for a snooze.
Emory redirected his gaze to Cam. “It feels good to have a dog in the house again.”
A genuine liking for the man started to form. It was beginning to go beyond physical attraction. Cam mentally warned himself to be careful, reminding himself of his habit of injecting emotion into what should be kept casual.
The men went out on the veranda and Cam was immediately reminded of why they had eaten inside. The air was now warm and sticky. They leaned on the railing and looked out over the lake. With sunlight sparkling on the deep blue water, it looked very refreshing.
Emory pointed to the dock that jutted out from the shore where two water craft were moored. Beyond the dock was a swimming raft with diving board. “It might be fun to go for a spin around the lake on the pontoon boat. Should be cooler out on the water. Or we could use the cruiser, and do a little water skiing if you prefer.” Emory leaned slightly toward Cam so there was contact between their shoulders. “Or—we could do both.”
Emory seemed to be assuming they’d be spending the day together. At this point that was perfectly all right with Cam.
“I’d like that. Either one is fine with me.” Cam turned to Emory and smiled, “or both would work, too.”
Emory returned the smile, stood up and led Cam down the stairs to the brick-paved patio, past a huge grill, then back into the lower level of the house. They entered a large rec room. Cam saw tables for playing pool, foosball, and air hockey. There was also a wet bar and a large TV complete with various game consoles, with leather couches and chairs arranged before it. Off to one side was a fully equipped galley kitchen.
“The kids almost lived down here when we came up,” Emory said, hands on hips, looking around as if remembering. “Follow me.”
Emory opened a door, revealing a home theater. A huge screen covered one whole wall of the room. There was stadium seating for at least two dozen people. “It has surround sound, great for watching sporting events. I have a library of movies, if you’d care to watch something. I can even make real theater popcorn.” Emory smiled warmly at Cam as he closed the door.
Walking across the rec room to the opposite side, Emory pointed out a door that he said led to his office, then they continued through another. They entered a work-out room that would make Planet Fitness sit up and take notice.
“Holy cow!” Cam exclaimed, looking around at the array of equipment. “You’ve got everything in here! Free weights, resistance machines, treadmills, bikes. Wow!” He turned to look at Emory. “No wonder you’re in such great shape.”
Emory laughed. “I do my best for an old man.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. There are some twenty year olds that would die for a body like yours.”
“Glad you approve,” Emory replied. “You look like you spend a fair amount of time at the gym. Or are you one of those dudes who are just naturally gorgeous? Guys like that made me so jealous back in the day.”
Cam blushed. “No, I have to work at it. I was the ninety pound weakling from those work-out ads when I was in high school.”
“Well,” Emory gave him an appraising look, which held more than just a flicker of desire, “you sure are the after hunk for those ads for work-out equipment now. Maybe we can get in a work-out this weekend. I’d like to see those muscles in action.”
Cam’s blush deepened. However, his dick registered the compliment and the innuendo that accompanied it.
Emory turned and led Cam into the shower room. There was a glass enclosed shower with two heads. Cam’s imagination kicked in and his dick continued to respond to the growing sexual tension that seemed to be developing between them. Cam could feel the organ plumping in his briefs.
“Here’s the dry sauna and the Jacuzzi,” Emory said, pointing in their direction. “There’s a hot tub outside as well. Too bad it’s so damn hot. They won’t be of much use to us today.” Emory flashed another smile that seemed to hold meaning beyond the words he spoke.
The tour continued. Throughout, Cam was impressed with the fact that although Emory’s home was virtually a mansion, there was no sense of arrogant pride or conceit on Emory’s part. For despite all the bells and whistles the house contained, Emory’s demeanor was such that he might have been showing Cam a dwelling as modest as the Grafton’s cottage next door.
Emory took Cam to the base of the stairs to the upper level and pointed to a door. “That’s the elevator. Arlene insisted we have one, so her parents could get around better when they came to visit and…” Emory paused and took a deep breath. “And for us to use in our old age. If we ever got there.”
Cam thought this a strange statement, but didn’t pursue it.
Emory continued. “Stairs keep you healthier, and maybe keep that old age stuff at bay—for a while anyway. Come on.”
They climbed the stairs to the first floor. As they passed through the living room Mr. Magee was still sacked out on the chair, snoring softly.
“He sure knows how to relax,” Cam said.
“All bassets do. Our Sadie and Chloe could saw ‘em off for hours,” Emory said. “That’s them.” He gestured to a large portrait on the wall. “Arlene had it done from a photo. She missed them so after they passed.”
Cam took note of the picture as they made their way to the staircase to the second floor.
Cam wondered why, since both Emory and Arlene loved dogs so much, they didn’t have any now. Maybe they’re back in Chicago with Arlene, he thought as they mounted the staircase to the second floor. Cam was about to ask when Emory interrupted his thoughts.
“And this is what I call the hotel,” Emory said as they reached the landing.
Cam looked down a long corridor which did, in fact, resemble the hallway of a hotel. There were three doors on one side, two on the other, and one at the end. All the doors were open, except the one at the end of the hall.
“We had five kids, so each had to hav
e their own space, both here and at home in Chicago,” Emory explained. “Every room has its own bathroom, television, the works. Always reminded me of a Holiday Inn.”
They started down the hall. Cam looked through the open doors into each room. All had queen sized beds and were decorated with sports posters or pictures of horses, dogs, and cats. One of the rooms had posters of Broadway shows. Emory explained he had three sons and two daughters. Two of the boys and one of the girls were the athletes of the family. The other daughter lived and breathed horses, and the remaining son was a musician, dancer, and singer. All loved animals. At each room Emory briefly told Cam where they were now and what they did for a living. All were professionals—a doctor, a lawyer, a vet, a teacher, and a would-be musical theater star.
Both pride and nostalgia were reflected in Emory’s voice as he spoke of each of his children, their spouses, and the grandchildren. However, there was a different quality to his voice when he talked about the son that had occupied the room with the musical memorabilia.
“This is Albert’s room. Lives in New York now.” Emory went on to tell of Albert’s accomplishments, the minor roles he had played on Broadway, and his life in The Big Apple. Emory’s tone seemed to reflect a deeper connection and identification with Albert than any of the others. Emory spoke of how proud he was that Albert had had the courage to come out to the family. “Living with a secret like this is hard.” He paused and furrowed his brow. For a moment Cam thought he was going to say more. But he didn’t.
At the end of the hall was the closed door to the master bedroom. Emory walked up to the door, hesitated, then opened it. The room was much larger than any of the others. A king sized four poster bed, reminding Cam of those seen in movies about royalty, was the central feature. The walls were adorned with, what Cam surmised, was expensive artwork. The room had a heavy feel, as if it hadn’t been used for quite a while.
Emory did not identify the room as that of his and his wife, but it went without saying. They stood for a few moments in silence, Emory just looking around. An anniversary clock on the fireplace mantel chimed the hour.