“Oh, wounded hell!” Oakland groaned, frantically pulling himself out of his sleepy slumber. He nudged Deklan a few times, trying to wake him, but the weight of his body kept him pinned in place.
Moaning, Deklan shifted but hardly moved.
“Deklan, get up,” Oakland grumbled, keeping his voice close to a whisper.
“What the…?” Deklan slid off of Oakland and sluggishly sat up, rubbing his eyes like a young boy. The morning sun persistently mined for his soul like a dagger shucking a walnut.
“Stay still. Shhh! Somebody’s at the door.” Oakland kicked the bedcovers off his feet, gripping his perpetual erection against the center of his abdomen until the swelling had gone down. He pulled his trousers on at the same moment the second bang reverberated around the carriage house. At least he thought it was the second knock. He’d been sleeping so soundly, it could have been the third, the fourth, or even knock five. Who knew except the person trying to bang the door down?
“Who’s at the door this early?” Deklan sleepily asked while holding one eye shut to block out the intrusive sunlight coming in from the window next to him.
“I’m late,” Oakland answered, tripping over his big feet as he made a zigzagged route for the door. “It’s probably somebody from the kitchen staff coming here to fry me for not having their breakfast ingredients at the counter on time. They get antsy if it’s a minute late.”
Deklan dropped back, and griped, “Really?” He laid his arm across his forehead. “They disturbed us for that? Off with their heads. I’ll order it done.”
“Well… it is my job, and your family would starve to death if I wasn’t gathering your morning eggs popped out of those chickens’ asses. Now, shush.” Oakland’s hand flapped behind him, politely hushing Deklan. “Don’t let them know you’re here. I’m dead if these people found out I was sleeping with the boss’s son.”
“Forget them and come back to bed. I’m stone hard and you’re the only one who can relieve me of the misery that’s purely your fault. Get over here and take a seat on my center. Your post awaits you.” Deklan boldly voiced his orders, pulling the covers back. His full blown erection sprung forward with a heavy thud against his abdomen, it too, begging for Oakland to hop on.
“Jeez, that’s a beauty and I’d love to. But… I can’t. I have a job to do.” Oakland imagined another great ride where he’d be bouncing like a jackrabbit until they both ejaculated.
Interrupting his sexual fantasy on his boyfriend’s cock, an unfamiliar voice had rung from the other side of the door. “Deklan. You in there?”
“Holy cow patties piled higher today than yesterday.” Deklan sprang out of bed, his erection immediately arcing forward as it deflated fast. His eyes blew wide open as though he was never sleeping. Sober as ever. Erection totally gone by then.
“What the… who the?” Startled, Oakland mimicked one of Deklan’s famous phrases he’d heard before, and backed away from the door as if it was on fire.
“My father,” Deklan whispered. “It’s him. He’s out there. Looking for me. Oh, Fiery hell!”
“Buggers to your hell. Oh, my hairy bollocks, instead.” Oakland panicked. He spun in circles, making no headway.
“Quiet.” Deklan held two fingers over Oakland’s mouth. Any other time Oakland would have taken them between his lips. That time, not a chance. Somebody was getting screwed and it wasn’t him that time.
“I’m dead,” Oakland squeaked. “Period.”
“You’re not dead.” Deklan softly paced the floor, holding his linen shirt in front of his nine inch swinging dick. “I need to think. Sssshhh!” He pointed a finger to the ceiling. “If he knew I was emptying my hairy nuts into the guy who was serving his meals, I’d be the dead one.”
Like a child, Oakland clamped both hands over his own mouth and tiptoed backward away from the door.
“Just stay quiet.” Deklan had a look on his face that seemed he hadn’t a clue what to do. Should he act as if he wasn’t inside the carriage house or should he answer the door and come up with something stupid?
He had chosen stupid.
Oakland walked the plank and hid in the bed corner with Bettie Lu, holding her beak to keep her silent.
“Pop?” Deklan opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that. Get dressed,” his father ordered. “You’re coming with me.” He tipped his head around Deklan, looking inside. Maybe looking for Deklan’s boy toy, who was keeping quiet while Dante’s eyes scanned the place. “Pee-yew.” Dante sniffed. “Remind me to have this dump cleaned up.”
Deklan might have made up a story about how much he wanted to be left alone, but since his father continued barking orders, he kept his mouth shut. He turned a full circle, glancing in Oakland’s direction as he spun. “I’ll be right back,” he told his father.
Deklan skipped up the chicken plank, grabbed his trousers and boots from beside the bed, and leaned in with a gentle kiss on Oakland’s lips. He whispered as he pulled away, “I gotta go. Love you, Oakland. Keep my babies safe.” He rubbed Oakland’s tummy before turning to leave.
Oakland smiled and hid the onset of an emotional weep, not too sure if the reason for the tears were because he was so in love with Deklan or because he might never have him in his bed again. Whispering alone, “Love you too, Dek.” It was the first time Oakland said those words and the first time he referred to his boyfriend as Dek. It was a strong name, suited Deklan, and seemed to be his alone to call him.
Oakland heard the door below close, which by that, had given him the approval to make a move.
It was sad to think Deklan and Oakland had to hide who they were because other people in the world couldn’t, or wouldn’t understand them.
Deklan was gone and Oakland wondered if he’d ever see him again the way he had that night. As a loved one. As a companion. If ever possible, as his husband. His heart tightened the moment he heard Deklan exit that door. Sadness erupted within Oakland. He couldn’t seem to stop the overflowing sensation of losing the man he’d fallen in love with. He sat on the edge of the bed holding Betty Lu, fighting those weepy emotions that would not ebb no matter how hard he tried to detain them.
Chapter 24
As if he was an untamed animal on a chain, Deklan had been led from Oakland’s small cabin to the great room where the wedding was to take place. His father was a few paces ahead of him, yanking on the imaginary links.
Wattsworth on the other hand was already there directing traffic and pointing out where he wanted tables and chairs to be set, giving out orders like a commander of a regiment.
Laid out on a table closest to the door was a large parchment page showing the great room’s layout, marked how Wattsworth wanted everything to be organized.
He sketched out the typical layout for a large wedding ceremony, starting with long tables lining the front entrance to catch the gifts. That was tradition, even though the filthy rich had no need for much of anything more.
In the middle of the room was a sea of chairs that formed three elongated V-shaped sections, wide in the back, narrow at the front. Wattsworth created two outside pathways that angled from the rear corners to a finer point at the front platform—an unexpected twist to the traditional wedding waltz down a center aisle.
The great room had been set up based on a typical wedding chapel, except with far less religious artifacts that had been replaced with a repertoire more glamorous.
Deklan’s stomach churned at the thought of that day being his last happy one on earth. The marriage to a girl was so wrong for him, and as far as he knew, the only person at the Manor who could understand that was Oakland. Separate bedrooms could always be an option—one for her and one for him. How could he wed somebody he didn’t know instead of the man he really loved? It was unsettling to him. He had half a mind to run away with Oakland and never come back. Screw the business. To hell with the wealth.
Next to his father, Deklan stood at the table with his
arms crossed, expecting his hands to start trembling and his jaw to grind, but they hadn’t. He himself found that odd. His eyes reduced to small slits and he said nothing. There wasn’t any point in voicing his opinion since there hadn’t seemed to be a single person with any plans to listen. The event was their wedding, not his. He knew that very well.
Deklan looked around the great room, completely uninterested in anything that had been staged in it. He started breathing heavily and then left his father and Wattsworth standing at the table. He unconsciously headed down the right side aisle toward the fabricated platform at the front of the room and stood there staring at what was in front of him for a while. “Why can’t all this be for Oakland and me?” boomed in his head. “He’s the one who has my heart.”
“Deklan!” his father hollered, voice echoing. “How does everything look to you?”
One tear tried to break free, but Deklan wiped it quickly with his floppy sleeve. He sniffed and turned. “Uh… good,” he honestly muttered, sniffing again to hide the fact he was unhappier than he’d ever been in his life. “Everything looks good.”
To keep from breaking his parents’ hearts, especially his mothers, he’d gone along with their plan to get married to the unknown lady bird named Gertrude, or Greta, or… Gladys? He still couldn’t remember the name of his bride to be. A bad sign and should be everybody’s clue as well that the marriage was a bad idea. His true wish however, was that his parents would realize what they were doing to him, to take notice of his own breaking heart, and not let the marriage go on as planned.
“It all looks good, Pop.” Deklan walked toward him and Wattsworth who were standing over the floor plan, still. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“How many times have I told you not to call me Pop?” his father pointed out. “You know you’re to address me as father when the help is present. It shows respect.”
“Sorry, Mister Royal.” Deklan turned cold, purposely going against his father’s ridiculous demand. “You’re doing a great job organizing your wedding. Call me when it’s my time to walk the aisle with whomever it is you have chosen for me to marry.” He turned and left the great room, heading outdoors.
Chapter 25
Watching from the carriage house window, Oakland noticed Deklan leaving the Manor in a hurry. If he hadn’t been caught up with morning chores, he’d have gone after Deklan like he wanted to.
Deklan’s actions had given Oakland the impression he needed somebody on his side, like he just lost the biggest battle of his life and every friend he had just died under gunfire. It was killing Oakland that he couldn’t follow Deklan right then and take away the brunt of anguish he was certain his family had inflicted on him.
Oakland sped through his chores, delivering eggs, vegetables and grains into the kitchen before grabbing the trash and running back out. During his blurred race around the room, he noticed a few eyes glaring at him, especially the daggered beams coming from the one who missed the opportunity of kicking him in the rear end before he’d left.
“Maybe next time, Chap?” he mumbled.
Oakland found it difficult to imagine Deklan walking hand in hand down matrimony aisle with someone other than himself. It wasn’t right, nor was it making any sense. The picture perfect marriage was all wrong. Oakland was the one who’d been kissed by Deklan, not that girl. It was his hand he held, not hers. They’d even slept so close their bodies merged, one deeply penetrating the other—transferring essence from one body to the other. Oakland at that moment was carrying Deklan’s seed, protecting and keeping it all safe. The two of them related to the other so well, the seamless connection was effortless and purely natural. That there was holy matrimony.
Oakland had taken off running around the back of the barn with a bucket of water for the vegetables in the garden and one with food for the animals. He was in such a rampant rush he’d thrown the food at them. If he had even a single minute to spare, he would have sat with them, but understanding Deklan was troubled by what occurred inside the manor, he hadn’t the time for socializing with a pig, a chicken or a goat. They had to do without him that one time. The distraction of food should help them understand.
Oakland was overheating like deserts dirt, sweating like the downpour of a rainy day, smelling like day old pig poop. He quickly grabbed a change of clothing and took off for the river to rinse off that morning’s workout.
“Holy, bollocks!” The water was colder than an old witch’s tit in a leaded brazier. He’d done what he could to ignore the chill, rushing the rinse to finish quicker.
As he hurried, Oakland pictured Deklan finding refuge under the pear tree they’d mutually had come to like, pretty much decided it was their favorite place on earth. It seemed fitting at the time for Deklan to go there, and Oakland would be surprised if he hadn’t.
While running through the clover field, Oakland’s straw hat caught wind as if signaling him to slow down. The cord spun the hat around his neck where it then flopped and rested at his back. He stopped at the hilltop and as if by magic, spotting Chadwick grazing a few feet from that pear tree. His mental power told him Deklan was there too. He had to be. Those two were like fuel and fire—always together when not at home.
Shifting his hat back onto his head, Oakland strolled down the hillside to meet Deklan, letting the wind behind him do most of the work at moving him along.
There was one thing he needed to do—console Deklan’s breaking heart and bring him back to life. It was his desire to take care of Deklan. He was his soul mate even if others understood it differently.
Fate can’t be interrupted no matter how hard others try to stop it.
Keeping his footsteps light against the ground, Oakland walked quietly up to Deklan. With his hands in the usual place he always carried them, tucked behind his suspender straps and close to his waistline, he stood in front of Deklan and waited for him to react.
It hadn’t taken long for Deklan to respond. His eyes had given off definite signs of being unhappy, but quickly changed for the better as soon as he looked at Oakland and said, “I’m glad you came.” His hand reached up and pulled Oakland down to the ground next to him. In the other hand he held a half-eaten pear out in front of him.
Oakland leaned over and took a small bite of the crunchy pear in Deklan’s hand. He side hugged Deklan, feeling the Prince’s anxiety level relaxing as the moments passed.
They reluctantly broke apart but still held hands, fingers locked together over Oakland’s knee.
Leaning back against the tree trunk, Deklan started speaking, softly at first and then strengthening his voice, “I’m not sure I can go through with the wedding, Oakland. They are making me marry that maiden. It just isn’t right on many aspects. Why can’t they see people’s lives will be destroyed just to satisfy their own self-regarding reasons?”
Oakland kept his hand on top of Deklan’s, gripping it tighter, nudging his shoulder, too. “I honestly believe the light will come on some day. It may not be straightaway, but it will illuminate.”
“Huh?” Deklan was thinking so literally at the moment that Oakland’s outlandish analogy had made no sense to him.
Oakland said it in a simpler way. “What might seem like an event that doesn’t align the way you think it should right now, will soon fall into place the way it’s supposed to later on. Two souls meant to share a life together cannot be denied. Love will find a way.”
Deklan’s forehead formed a knot between his eyes. “You lost me. What?”
“I mean to say that life is funny sometimes. We all climb different mountains, but will end up on the other side where we are supposed to be. This whole messed up situation will all work out as it should. We’ve gotta believe that.” Oakland said differently to Deklan, hoping he’d understand.
What Deklan hadn’t known and what Oakland recently found out himself, was that he had a mystical fairy as a friend, guiding him through life. Everyone does, however, Oakland was fortunate enough to meet his face to face.<
br />
Worry lines ornamented Deklan’s forehead. “What’s going to happen to us when I’m forced to be with and share my bed with that lass?”—his face turned white—“When I think about the parts a girl is made of versus the equipment on a chap that I enjoy, prefer, and don’t want to live without, I go cold. The thought of lady bits makes me queasy, Oakland. There isn’t anything wrong with them, by no means, I just have no interest. My brain and body aren’t made to function that way. Not a single part of the female body does anything for me. You know, right?”
Oakland watched Deklan worry, noticing him wincing and turning a couple shades of gray. It wasn’t pleasant. “Of all people, Deklan, you should already know the answer to that. I can definitely relate.”
“Will I ever see you again?” Deklan asked.
Oakland wasn’t prepared for that question. He stuttered, “Je… Jeez, Deklan. Of… of course you will. I’ll be right outside your window, slaving away.”
Deklan’s face had gone sour. “I don’t like that word. It never should have existed.”
What Oakland said had come out wrong. For one thing, he hadn’t meant he was headed back into slavery as it sounded, or had he meant to make Deklan think he’d only see him from his bedroom window. “Wait. No. I didn’t mean that,” he shuddered.
Deklan sank into the tree, pressing his shoulder against Oakland’s while laying a hand on his knee. “There’s too much segregation in this world. I don’t get it.”
Oakland thought optimistically. “Somehow we will figure this out.” He laid his hand over top of Deklan’s, giving it a squeeze. “We’re stronger together. It won’t be that easy for anybody to tear us apart.” He rotated Deklan’s chin toward him and delicately pressed their lips together.
Deklan breathed in Oakland’s kiss. “Never let me go, Oakland.”
“Not possible,” Oakland whispered back. Lips remained connected.
Deklan stood, lifting Oakland with him. “Let’s take Chadwick for a trot along the river. Maybe take a swim. Yeah?”
The Prince of Almond Manor Page 13
