C.A.K.E

Chapter 6: Stealing Second Base



Chapter 6: Stealing Second Base

Casper hugs Arden's half-conscious body closer to his, as he carries her through the museum past the

concerned stares of guards and other patrons. He's moving with as much urgency as his latent desire

will allow.

He's in no rush to put her down. Her wavy hair bounces with every step, as he tries to keep her head

tucked against his chest. She hasn't said another word since she folded like an accordion next to the

sculpture.

His primary concern is to get her some help, but that doesn't stop the biological responses triggered by

her stunning beauty. He looks down at her hooded eyes and her berry lips. Her mouth is parted like

she's about to whisper something, or anticipating a kiss—his kiss.

From this vantage point, he also has a premium view of the cleavage bursting at the small ivory buttons

of her cardigan. Distracted by her trembling flesh, he stumbles but manages to right himself.

He adjusts Arden's weight in his arms, firming his grip on her curves. With one hand resting on her

ribcage just below the crest of her right breast, and the other somewhere along her upper thigh, he

thanks the man upstairs. Casper doesn't know what he did to deserve it, but he damn sure ain't

complaining. His fingers sink into her soft skin, enjoying the blessing of her anatomy even through her

clothes.

One last set of stairs separates them from the entrance and his car. Each step brings him closer to the

realization that in a moment, he'll have to let go of one of God's angels. Now that he's held her,

releasing her might as well be a death sentence. So he makes the most of it.

He curls his hands around her, smiling when he detects the bounce of her breast against his palm.

Hmm ... minimal padding. That's all her. In his satisfaction, a reflex takes over and he squeezes the

roundness in his large hand.

Arden stirs against him. “Casper?”

“Yes,” he asks, ready to do whatever that beautiful voice requests.

“Your hand is on my breast.” She tilts her head back and her eyes shoot open.

There's indignation in her tone, but those pretty brown eyes are telling a different story. They don't mind

his roaming fingers, seeming to welcome the touch.

Casper apologizes but doesn't move his hand. The longing in her expression reflects the near

ravenous hunger brewing in him. If they weren't in public, he'd do something about it.

He steps through the glass doors of the museum, and onto the sidewalk. Casper, slow to relinquish his

front-row seat at Arden's coming out party, sets her down on a nearby bench. He keeps a protective Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

hold on her. One hand stays tucked across her waist, while the other pushes stubborn strands of hair

out of her face.

“Are you okay?” Casper strokes her cheek.

“Yes, I'm fine.” She shifts her head away from his gentle hand.

Undeterred, he takes her sweaty palm in his. “You wanna tell me what happened back there?”

“It's Alabama. Heatstroke is going around.” Arden shrugs.

“I'm serious. Are you all right?”

Arden looks at him, her eyes laced with a complicated cocktail of anxiety and longing.

“Just heat exhaustion.” She tries a smile and an uneasy laugh. “I'm fine.”

Her breathing has yet to return to normal, and worry still wrinkles her brow. She's not fine. And no

amount of her hollow reassurance is going to convince him otherwise.

Casper hooks an arm behind her back, and the other underneath her knees. “I'm taking you to the

emergency room.”

She grabs his arm, preventing him from lifting her. “That's not necessary. Really.”

“Then I'm taking you home.”

He produces keys from the pocket of his slacks and taps a button. The doors of a cherry Bentley

Continental GT unlatch with a polished click.

“I can drive myself,” she insists.

A breeze has the audacity to brush past them, without imparting a hint of cooling comfort. The rude

gust of air blows Arden's soft hair into her face again.

Casper slips his hand into its depths and smooths it back until his fingers are resting at the nape of her

neck. He exerts gentle pressure on her head, making her maintain eye contact with him.

“Emergency room, or my car. Take your pick.”

She dips her head. “Casper—.”

Before she can finish voicing her objection, he reiterates his position.

“The doctor ...” He points to the sleek machine. “Or the Bentley.”

Casper uses his thumb to lift her chin. A smirk and a small sigh accompany her acquiescence. He nods

along with her as she states her decision.

“The Bentley.”

He takes her hand and opens the passenger door for her. Dirty things run through his mind, as he

watches her settle into the seat and pull her long legs in one at a time. He shuts her door and takes his

time getting into the driver's seat.

Casper takes a second to adjust the evidence of how strung out he is over Arden. Slipping into the car,

he asks her address.

“1100 5th Avenue South,” she says.

Arden clears her throat and plays with her wedding ring. She stares out of the window, angling her

body toward the door.

Casper doesn't mind that she's turning away from him. Her position allows him an easy peek at her

thighs and generous backside. She can ignore him all she wants if this is the reward.

As he navigates the streets of Birmingham, he steals glances at Arden. When he looks her way to

check his blind spot, he finds her eyes are on him. She turns her head, and he smiles to himself. He

makes what seems like two turns, and they're pulling up to her building.

Arden leans forward in her seat and reaches for the door handle. “I can manage from here, Casper.”

Casper doesn't hear a word Arden says, because he's already out of the car. He passes his keys to the

valet and helps her from the quiet interior of his Bentley. She declines his offer to carry her inside. He

insists on keeping an arm around her waist, just in case. Just in case she falters and needs his helpful

hands to catch her.

The lobby is empty when they enter, even the concierge is absent. He feels Arden's body relax against

his arm. She pushes the elevator button and tries once more to convince him that she will be fine on

her own.

Casper won't hear of it. Her little episode scared him, and now that part of him that likes to swoop in

and save the day has been awakened. She's not going to get rid of him anytime soon. Inside the

elevator, Arden punches in the passcode to the penthouse.

After a swift ascent, the doors open onto the long hallway that leads to the Stones' front door. Edison

bulbs come alive one by one with their every step.

Abstract portraits of Arden and Elliott are suspended along the walls. Warhol-style selfies of a

redheaded girl and boy catch Casper's eye.

Arden unlocks the door to the condo, and steps over the threshold. Keeping her eyes on her feet, she

holds the door open and ushers him inside the spacious apartment.

“Come in.” She heads for the kitchen, prepared to play hostess. “Would you like something to drink?”

Casper shakes his head and guides her over to the couch. He makes her sit, while he searches the

kitchen cabinets for a glass and pours her some water. He hands the cool drink to her and takes a seat

on the coffee table across from her.

“So this is where the amazing Arden Stone lays her head?”

“Yes, this is our home.” She rests the ice-cold glass against her cheek and peeks at him through

lowered lashes.

She said "our." But Casper doesn't care that he's poaching Eli's wife on his home turf. Some risks are

just worth taking. He surveys the room. Bright colors dance on the walls and furniture. It's almost a

carbon copy of the bakery.

“It looks like you.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“That was supposed to be a compliment.”

She nods and takes another sip of her water. “Right.”

“Feeling any better?”

“I'm all right now.”

Casper feels Ardi's forehead with the back of his hand. Then he puts two fingers to her neck, just

underneath the curve of her jawbone.

As he checks the beating of her heart, he consults his watch. Arden licks her lips, making him lose

count. They lock eyes for a moment before she averts her gaze.

“Do that often?”

“Do what?” she asks, still refusing to look at him.

“Scare the shit outta people.”

Arden sort of giggles, and sets her glass down on the end table. “I try not to make a habit of it.”

She keeps her head turned, choosing to stare out of the large windows rather than look at him. Her

profile, lit from the sun, has him mesmerized.

The cute turn-up of her nose, coupled with her strong cheekbones and the flare of her soft lips-

everything about her. She's beautiful from any angle. Casper smiles at the thought of waking up next to

her sun-drenched face every morning.

He slides his hands underneath her bottom and pulls her toward him until they're close enough to

breathe for each other.

“What else don't you make a habit of?”

Casper toys with the buttons of her cardigan, slipping his fingers underneath the smooth cashmere. He

keeps his eyes on her, giving her an opportunity to tell him to stop.

Her chest rises and falls in quick succession. “Letting strange men touch me.”

Casper undoes another button on her blouse. “Good thing, I'm not a strange man.”

He watches as her eyes draw closed and drift open again. “I barely know you.”

“What do you need to know, love?” He skims his finger over the cup of her bra, his touch within

torturous proximity to that chocolate bundle of nerves.

She bites her bottom lip and takes a deep breath. “Casper.”

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers against her neck.

She doesn't. Just groans like she's fighting an impossible battle. Arden clutches at his biceps, as he

plants a kiss on her smooth skin.

Casper moves toward the lips that have been on his mind since he set eyes on her, stopping just shy of

validating the attraction between them. He's going to let Arden make the final decision, let her walk that

last mile into their transgression.

As his breath mingles with her own bated respiration, she whispers, “Kiss me.”

She doesn't have to tell him twice. Just before their lips meet, the shifting of a key in the door interrupts

them.

Arden moves away from Casper and tries to make herself decent again. She fiddles with her clothes

but isn't making much progress. Her fingers have forgotten how to maneuver the pearl buttons of her

cardigan.

He must see that she's all thumbs at the moment because he reaches over and fastens the sweater for

her. The door swings open, just as Casper's nimble hands leave Ardi's chest.

Twin shocks of red hair stumble into the room, each juggling a mountain of luggage. Arden is still

surprised, yet relieved. It's not Eli. The two intruders are so busy arguing with each other, they don't

notice that Arden and Casper are even in the room.

“Why do you always overpack?” A young man with long limbs and a strong chin pulls suitcases inside

and throws them at the young woman's feet.

“A girl has to have options. I can't possibly know what I will and won't need.”

“It's ninety degrees here almost year-round. I'm sure you could have left the parka,” the boy scoffs.

“Maybe Dad will want to go skiing somewhere, or a freak blizzard might blow through. Never know.”

Arden rises from her seat and clears her throat to get the attention of the bickering teenagers. “Excuse

me. If you two are planning to rob the place, you might want to be a little quieter.”

Their faces light up at the sight of her. They drop their bags and rush toward Arden.

“Mom,” they both exclaim, fighting to be the first to get to her.

The boy wins the race. He hugs Arden, picking her up and spinning her around. Once he sets her on

the ground again, she holds him at arm's length.

“How is it possible that you grew a whole foot in two weeks?” She ruffles his fiery hair. “Where is my

little Ro-Ro?”

“Ammi, enough with that cutesy stuff.” He straightens his collar and sticks out his chin. “I'm a man now.”

“Men don't wet the bed.” The boy's shorter counterpart with the same blazing red locks and similar

features shoves him aside. She wraps her arms around Arden. “Hi, Ammi.”

Arden laughs and kisses the girl's forehead. “Hi, Tea.”

The young woman peeks around Arden at Casper. “Who's the skyscraper?”

Ardi turns to face the man who minutes earlier was about to make her a dishonest woman.

“This is my friend, Casper.”

The two smile and wave at Casper.

“And these are your ...” he gestures to Arden's bookends.

“Her adorable, and talented kids,” the boy volunteers.

The girl puts her face next to Arden's. “Can't you see the resemblance?”

With their milky skin and red hair, next to Ardi they look like two scoops of vanilla ice cream in a

caramel sundae. Arden hugs the two closer and shakes her head.

“These are my ... stepchildren.” She nods her head toward the boy. “Rowan.” Then the girl. “And

Teagan.”

“Nice to meet you both. How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” they answer in tandem.

“You're twins?” Casper asks.

“Fraternal,” Teagan adds. “Thank God. Who would want to look like this guy?”

She points to her brother, who reaches around Arden to pop her on the back of her head.

“She's just mad because the ugly stick beat her to a pulp,” Rowan smirks at Tea, and she sticks her

tongue out at him.

“Though, they do share the same love of making snarky comments,” Arden says, telling them both to

behave.

Ro and Tea release their hold on Ardi and walk over to where Casper is standing. He tucks his hands

into his pockets, as the two survey him.

“So how do you know our mom?” Rowan asks.

“My wife and I met Arden and your father about a week ago at a cooking class.”

The two nod at each other, and continue to circle him.

“Wife, huh?” Ro repeats. “Does she know you're here?”

“And just what are your intentions with our mother?” Teagan strokes her chin and raises an eyebrow at

Casper.

“All right, enough. Leave him alone.” Arden takes Casper's arm and pulls him from their interrogation.

“We'll play nice. Promise.”

“Yeah, bring him back.”

The twins continue to call after them, as Arden leads Casper into the hallway. She pulls the door up

behind her, careful not to shut it all the way.

“You didn't have to rescue me. I can handle a few questions.” He runs his fingers through her hair and

caresses her face.

“Who said it was you that I was rescuing?” She catches his hand in hers and rests her cheek against

his palm.

Much to her relief, Casper doesn't reach for her again when she lets go of him. Whatever this is

between them has already gone far enough.

“They seem pretty attached to you,” he observes.

“The twins were only a year old when Elliott and I met.” She shrugs. “Ro and Tea are easy kids to love.

They're as much mine, as they are his.”

“Why did they call you, Ammi?”

“It means mother in Urdu.” Arden smiles. If she's not meant to have kids of her own, Rowan and

Teagan have been more than enough to fill the void.

“They consider you their mother. Your relationship with them can't sit well with their birth mother.”

“Nope, it does not.” Arden laughs at a memory. “One Christmas when the twins were three, everyone

spent the holiday at Eli's parents' house-including their mother. They ran to me the instant they woke

up that morning. Well, that already had her salty. Then Ro called me mommy in front of her.”

“Damn. That couldn't have ended well,” Casper remarks.

“Yeah, she lost her shit.” Ardi shakes her head. “So we told the twins they could call me Arden, or

Ammi around her.”

“Has his ex never heard of Google?”

“Lucky for us, if it doesn't concern her job, she doesn't bother with research.”

They reach the end of the hallway and stand staring at each other in front of the elevator. Another

awkward silence adds itself to the multitude they've had today. Casper places his hand on her elbow,

drawing her near. She tenses but doesn't back away. He leans in, and she closes her eyes. Ardi holds

her breath, bracing herself for whatever he's going to do.

Casper kisses her cheek. “Thanks for keeping me company this afternoon.”

“Anytime.” She smiles at him until his handsome face disappears behind the steel doors.

Anytime. Anywhere. He can get it. And that is why she can never be alone with Mr. Casper Callaghan

again.


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