Safe in His Arms (19 page)

“Merry Christmas, mateys. Isn’t it a wonderful morning?”

Casey frowned as he got in the back of the car, allowing Lon to ride up front. “Okay. Who are you and what have you done with the real Paul? You remember? The one that was upset and crying over a particular married man who he wouldn’t be seeing over Christmas?”

Paul pulled out into the light traffic and flipped Casey the bird. “That particular married man rang me this morning and told me how much he was missing me.”

Lon groaned. “Jesus, Paul. You need to dump the guy and find someone else. There’ll be nothing but heartache in this little scenario. Either he dumps you somewhere down the track and breaks your heart, or he dumps his wife for you, but spends the rest of his life mourning the loss of his children.”

“Or, he tells the wife about his little affair and she invites you to come and live with them,” Casey contributed from the back seat. “You can all be happy together. Three is a nice number in a marriage bed.”

He received the evil eye from Paul for his trouble. “Fine,” Paul sulked. “You all can be pissy on my happiness parade. But I know that somehow it’s going to work out.”

“Won’t,” Casey retorted.

“Will,” Paul denied.

“Won’t.”

“Bitch,” Paul said without any venom.

“Slut,” Casey said.

“Cow.”

“Homewrecker.”

“Oi. Children,” Lon shouted. “Enough. Can we just go visiting without the two of you bickering? Jesus Christ. It’s like I was back in primary school and Dad’s taking us out.”

Paul chuckled, but Casey had the last word, sniping, “Are we there yet, Dad?”

That made them all laugh, and they were grinning like idiots as Paul parked in a shady spot at the cemetery and got out. Casey noticed Lon lost his smile as they approached the open gate. His body became stiff, and his stride lengthened until the other two couldn’t keep up. Paul grabbed Casey’s arm, pulling him back and deliberately allowing the distance between them to lengthen. Lon walked without hesitation, making his way along the path and turning down another walkway until he was in the center of a bunch of whitewashed gravestones. He made his way down to the fifth aisle and abruptly turned again, to walk on the grassed area that covered the plots.

Paul tugged Casey to a halt a decent distance away, allowing Lon his privacy with the dead. Solemnly they watched as Lon knelt and placed the roses in one of the empty glass vases imbedded in the gravestone. He filled the vase with water from the bottle he’d brought along and then placed the apple on top of the square plaque that marked the grave. Finally he opened the Christmas card and read it aloud. Although Casey could hear his voice, the distance was too great to hear the actual words. He heard Paul swallow loudly next to him and turned in surprise to find Paul was blinking back tears.

“Fuck. Every time I tell myself I won’t get upset. Fuckin’ God. I hate him for the things he does. I’ll be in the car.”

Paul spun around and nearly ran in his haste to get away. That left Casey standing awkwardly by himself, unsure if he should go or stay. In desperation he focused on the gravestone in front of him. It told him that someone’s beloved husband and father had passed away eight years before. He assumed that since Lon’s mother was only a couple of rows away, her death had occurred eight years ago too.

Lon turned then and beckoned to him, holding out a hand to draw him close. “C’mere, Casey-love.” Bravely Casey threaded their fingers together and glanced down at the inscription. To his shock there were three names listed—Thomas Taylor, Sandra Taylor, and Marlee Taylor.

Lon was speaking as if there were people standing in front of him. “Mum, Dad, I want you to meet my new boyfriend. This is Casey. Yes. I know he looks a little young, but that’s okay. I think he’s just right for me. So, Casey, please meet my parents and my baby sister.”

“Hi.”

It seemed a little strange to be talking to a piece of stone, but Casey was still reeling from the dates engraved. Thomas Taylor had died in his fiftieth year, on the same day as his youngest daughter, who was only twenty-one. Sandra had passed away two days later.

Casey’s heart broke as he wondered what had happened to them. It had to have been some sort of accident. Was it a car accident? He tried to imagine how Lon had coped with that. Did he have someone to help him through it? Was it before or after his brother had gone off the rails? Paul had been his friend since high school, so did he support Lon?

Lon chatted on, telling his family a story of how they met—a bullshit story, since he couldn’t really tell his mother that he learned Casey’s name only after he’d been sucked off in the shower rooms. In this new story, they bumped into each other at the caravan park and struck up a conversation. Casey tried not to grin, but his heart melted at the thought that Lon was lying to his parents—his dead parents. How could you not love someone who did that?

Eventually the one-sided conversation stuttered to a halt and Lon asked, “Is there anything you wanted to say?”

Casey blinked, thinking that Mick was going to have a field day with this one. “Ahh, not really. Just that I’m really pleased to meet you all, and I think that Lon’s a wonderful guy.”

Lon squeezed his fingers and spoke again. “So, I guess that’s it. You’re all caught up on the news now. I’ll tell Ronnie you said hello and I’ll visit again soon. Merry Christmas. Miss you heaps. Love you. See you.”

“See you. Merry Christmas,” Casey echoed as they walked away.

There was a spring in Lon’s step that wasn’t there earlier, as if visiting his family had made him happy. It was adorable. Casey couldn’t help but tease.

“They seem like nice folks.”

Lon had the grace to blush and take the humor. “So you reckon I’m nuts, huh?”

“No,” Casey denied. “You’re wonderful, as I told your parents. If talking to them like that makes you happy, then you tell everyone else to fuck off and continue doing what you want.”

Their fingers were still threaded together as they strolled through the peaceful grounds of the cemetery. Lon sighed. “It does make me happy. I can almost see them standing right in front of me when I visit. I tell them the news, like I would if they were alive. I bring my mum flowers because she loved them. I bring Marlee an apple because she was mad for the taste. I treat my dad with the respect he deserves. I visit when I can—every birthday, anniversary, and holiday. Then sometimes I just come because I’m bored and this is a nice place to visit.”

“That’s so nice.”

“So you don’t think I’m ready for the straightjacket yet?”

Casey laughed. “Nah. As I said, your folks seem like nice people. Your dad’s hair was a bit crazy. You should tell him to get a haircut. But I can’t believe how cute your sister is. Man. Luckily I’m gay or I’d be totally going for her.”

He received a shove for his teasing and nearly stumbled into a rose bush growing on the verge before he righted himself. Lon was laughing at him. “Fuck off, dude. That’s my baby sister you’re talking about.”

“But she was totally hot. I mean, I can see the family resemblance, but shit. She makes it look good. Whereas you… I mean, the fuzzy bits on you can be as sexy as hell, but it’s not going to make you win any beauty prizes, is it?”

Lon laughed and grabbed Casey’s hand again. “Now I know you are pulling this crap out of your arse. My sister had curly red hair and looked nothing like me.”

Casey smirked. “Man, I must’ve been looking over at the wrong ghost then, because there was a smokin’ hot chick hanging around over there.”

Paul was leaning morosely against his car when they approached. He heard the laughter and looked up in surprise. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Casey’s been perving on ghosts in the cemetery. He has the hots for some dark-haired chick over near my parents.” There was a grin a mile wide on Lon’s face.

“Ghosts?” Paul was startled. Usually Lon was grumpy and sullen after a visit.

“You’re an idiot, Lon. That chick couldn’t hold my attention. That fat, naked guy kept getting in the way. I don’t know how your father ignored him while talking to us.”

Big, booming guffaws fell from Lon’s mouth as he cracked up at Casey’s joke. Paul shook his head and thanked God for his wisdom. God may’ve been an idiot and deprived Lon of his family, but he was good enough to send Casey to heal the damage.

Chapter 14

I
T
WAS
the most enjoyable Christmas and Boxing Day Lon had had in a long time. Usually he would mope around home, waiting for the gym to open. But Casey changed that. Lunch with Mrs. Greening was awkward, but it was obvious they were all trying. Lon found that the older woman dropped several broad hints that she still didn’t believe Lon was the right person for Casey, but he couldn’t fault her for her loyalty to her grandson. It made the conversation a little stilted for the first hour, until the old woman made her way through most of a bottle of wine by herself. She loosened up a lot after that. Mr. Perkins was still making his rounds through the park, and Mrs. Greening ended up waltzing drunkenly with him on the road.

The next day she was so embarrassed by her behavior that she forgot to be all snooty with Lon, and they forged a fragile truce that Lon was sure would be shattered if he ever did anything to hurt Casey. She still glared at him behind Casey’s back, but Lon got the feeling his age and physical appearance were her only stumbling blocks. She was completely open and nonjudgmental about Casey’s sexuality and the fact he was living with Lon.

Casey had to return to work after two days off, so Lon was once again free to come and go as he pleased. He wound up going to the gym as usual. But instead of hanging around his van the rest of time, he found himself checking out real estate. He wondered if Casey would like a place near the ocean, or somewhere farther inland, where plants might thrive away from the salt-laden winds. Lon’s place was turning into a jungle as Casey brought home a variety of “sick” plants to doctor. He presented each new addition with the words, “Natasha said….”

Lucky for Natasha she was female or she may’ve had a visit from a big, jealous boyfriend.

They rung in the New Year with a party at Paul’s place, where Lon proudly kept his arm around Casey for most of the night. Several men made advances, despite that large, muscled arm, but Casey waved them off and was content to snuggle in Lon’s embrace.

Lon and Casey also met Andrew, who was introduced around the party as Paul’s new friend from the gym. It seemed that only Lon and Casey knew the truth, and Andrew knew that. He avoided them all night, although Casey noticed that both Paul and Andrew disappeared for a thirty-minute interval at one stage. He didn’t mention it to Lon. Paul knew how close he was skating to the edge of disaster and didn’t need any more advice.

Casey’s birthday fell on the second day of January, which meant he worked all day, and returned to a romantic dinner cooked by Lon. And a romantic shower. And a romantic back rub. And a romantic…. Yeah, well. Casey blushed when he remembered what they had done. And then that led to frowning because it reminded him of the one thing they
hadn’t
done.

“He still won’t fuck me,” he groused to Mick during their next appointment. “I mean, I’ve done
everything
to assure him that I want it and I will like it. I swear, if it didn’t remind me of my father, I’d be tying him to the bed and
taking
it. But you’re right. I can’t force him. I’m going crazy, Mick.” He had the grace to stop and blush at that. “Well, crazier, anyway.”

Mick leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on a footstool. “Casey, it’s my professional opinion that you’re not crazy. You had a traumatic experience, and you’re still working your way through the ripples of that, but that does not make you crazy. That makes you human.”

“I don’t feel it,” Casey grumbled.

“Well, tough shit, tiger,” Mick responded cheerily. That’s what Casey liked about him. He was sympathetic—to a point. “You
are
human. And our next step is to make you see that. Now, tell me more about Lon. Did you ask him if he’d be willing to come to a session with you?”

Casey slumped on his couch and pouted. “Yes. I asked him. He said he’d come.”

“Good. Now I want you to tell me about him. You’ve told me what he looks like. You’ve told me how he makes you feel. You’ve told me about how he likes to make you scream in bed. But you haven’t told me anything about
him
.”

“Like what?”

“Okay, let us start with basics. How old is he?”

“I dunno. About thirty?”

Mick gave him the you-are-being-dumb look. “Haven’t you asked him?”

“No. It’s rude, isn’t it?”

Mick sighed. Loudly. “It’s rude to ask strangers. If he’s your boyfriend, you should know these things.”

“Oh.” Casey frowned in concentration before he suddenly burst out. “I know. He told me once that he’s thirteen years older than me. So that makes him thirty-three. See. I do know.”

“This isn’t a test where there’s a right and a wrong answer, Casey. This is therapy. I can tell that you haven’t been talking to Lon and communicating if you don’t know how old the man you have been living with is, and you still don’t know why he won’t participate in anal sex with you. So let us try another one. What does he do for a living?”