C.A.K.E novel Chapter 3

Arden arrives home with a little over an hour's time to get ready for dinner with the Callaghans. She would have left the bakery earlier. But one of her employees had a family emergency. So Arden had to close the cafe alone, which means she had to handle a wedding cake delivery on her own as well.

The bride and groom loved her three-tier, cherry blossom masterpiece of fondant so much, they invited her to stay for the reception. By the time she convinced them she couldn't stay, they had promised to name their first child after her. The newlyweds were taking full advantage of their open bar.

Arden smiles at the thought of being that young—and drunk—and in love. Just then, she receives a text from Elliott. He's running late. No real surprise there.

Remains were found in the Pelham City landfill two days ago, and his services were needed. Her husband is good at what he does, which means she falls somewhere around third on his priority list. Ardi sighs and leaves the phone on the kitchen counter to walk farther into their home.

She leans against the back of the turquoise leather sofa and runs her fingers across its grommet details. Arden stares out of the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows along the far wall of the living area at the impending sunset. The rays strike her brown eyes, making them glow a honeyed amber. She stands stock-still, letting herself become one with the silence in the empty apartment.

Her approachable and somewhat offbeat style is evident throughout the space. The starkness of the exposed brick and ductwork of the high ceilings is softened by the plush chairs and settees in shades of coral, chartreuse, turquoise, and fuchsia.

An entire wall has been dedicated to family photos in frames of various shapes and sizes. Eclectic chotskies live in every nook and cranny. Nothing matches, but everything coordinates. Their place has character and warmth, just like her childhood home.

The Stones own the top two floors of the Fifth Avenue Lofts on Birmingham's Southside. They were the first to move into the renovated building, and the owners had no problem with them turning the two floors into a penthouse. The Stones' million dollar check, along with her father's name, might have greased the wheels in that respect.

When they moved in four years ago, she had been concerned that a condo wouldn't be big enough for them. Now she wants to eat her words. Their home is plenty big. Especially, since she spends a great deal of time in its expanse alone. It's May, and summers have always left her with more than enough time to herself. But soon the days will be just as long, no matter what the season.

Arden sweeps that thought under the rug and forces herself to get ready. She's reminded of the ache in her neck and back with every step she takes to the bedroom. The end of a long day and all she needs is a hot bath. It'll have to be a short one.

As she waits for the tub to fill, she collapses on the bed and stares at the dove-gray walls. She focuses on the silver, crystal chandelier above the bed to keep her tired eyes from shutting her off from the waking world. The rushing of water ceases in the next room, stalled by the automatic valve designed to prevent an overflow. Ardi heaves herself from the comfort of their white and periwinkle bedding and into the closet.

She undoes her emerald, a-line dress, and steps out of her floral flats. Her jewelry is returned to the felt drawers of the built-in armoire in the center of the walk-in. Once she's disrobed and tied a scarf around her hair, she closes the frosted glass doors that separate the closet from the bathroom. Arden adds rosewater to the near scalding bath and slips her body into the water. A tiny wave is displaced as the water envelopes her, spilling over the sides and onto the bank of smooth pebbles surrounding the bathtub.

She washes the day off her skin, letting the torrid water permeate her pores. Arden turns on the jets, and sinks lower into the basin. She rests her head on the lip of the tub, while a dozen tiny sprays pulse against her aching muscles. As the tension in her back lessens, a jet near her feet creates a new tension in her lower body.

Ardi adjusts to find just the right—“Ooh, shit. Right there.”

Having found the perfect position, she closes her eyes and allows the purifying surge to relieve the frustration that's plaguing her. Arden expects her mind to manifest her husband's ruddy complexion, but Casper's form materializes.

His hands draw near her in the haze of the humid bathroom. She succumbs to the phantasm's touch, moaning her consent. Casper's ghost melds into her senses, leading her to the edge. The fogged mirrors bear witness to her cerebral tryst, reflecting a distorted image of the pleasure and pain riddling her sweet features. Arden grips the sides of the tub, as she's driven to the brink of insanity.

“Arden, honey, you home?” . . .

Casper's lips are making their way down Arden's neck on a direct path to her chest.

“Ardi?” . . .

His fingertips trace a trail of fire across her stomach. She bites down on her knuckle. Arden is too far gone to hear the voice calling her name from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Where are you?” . . .

Casper's girth is between her legs, playing a sensual concerto. All her focus finds its way to her spot, leaving her other senses out to dry. Where she's headed, she doesn't need them anyway. She moans softly as delicate convulsions ravage her.

“Arden?”

Her head still raised to the ceiling, she mutters, “Fuck . . .”

The rush of cool air from the adjoining walk-in added to the side effects of her orgasm, have her shuddering. For a moment she's forgotten her own name and the name of the man who is standing in the doorway gawking at her.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Arden becomes aware of Elliott's presence and shuts off her aquatic lover. She blinks several times, trying to will her body's return to its normal state.

“Elliott . . .” Her speech falters. She takes a deep breath. “When did you get in?”

He kneels beside the tub and holds her chin in his hand. “About the time you were sliding into home plate.”

“Oh my, God.” Ardi sinks lower into the warm water.

“No need to be embarrassed.” Eli smiles and leans over to taste her lips. “Next time I'll be here to take care of that for you.”

“I'll hold you to that,” she says with a smirk.

Elliott strips down and steps into the shower, while Arden scolds herself. Nice, Arden. Getting off to another man just as your husband walks in the door. Very classy.

She collects her thoughts and pulls her body from the tub. Ardi wraps a towel around herself and slips out of the wet air of the bathroom into the closet to get dry. She applies shea butter to her skin, and a citrus vanilla musk to her pulse points, making herself smell good enough to eat.

While still in her undies, she paints her face. She creates a subdued shimmer on her lids with a bronze shadow. Forgoing the falsies, she defines her lashes with black eyeliner and a couple of coats of mascara. Arden chooses a deep red with hints of orange for her lips. A dusting of bronzer along her cheeks and her makeup is done. Her hair is given a deep side part, before being swept into a low chignon.

Arden hears the hairdryer on the other side of the double doors to the bath. Good. We might be on time tonight.

All Eli has to do is run a little mousse through his hair, slap on some deodorant and cologne, then throw on his clothes. She has yet to convince him to make lotion a regular part of his routine. Ardi is buttoning up her tuxedo shirtdress when Elliott emerges with a towel draped around his waist.

“Have you selected my ensemble for the evening, darling?”

“I figure you can dress yourself tonight.”

“In that case . . .” He rips away his towel. “I'm ready to go.”

Arden laughs. “Unless you're looking to make a couple of dollars, I suggest you put that away.”

He hooks his hands behind his head and begins thrusting his hips like a Chippendale. “Cash and all major credit cards are accepted.”

She shakes her head. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Crazy little thing called love.” Elliott becomes a version of Elvis and winks at her.

“It has to be.” Arden gives him a kiss, and a quick slap on the ass. “Put me down for a lap dance later.”

“I'll reserve the VIP section.”

They return to their respective sides of the walk-in to get dressed. Arden accents her petal-pink dress with a coral matte belt, statement earrings, and a ring to match. She grabs a pair of cream two-tone heels then takes a seat on the bed to slip them on.

Elliott appears, dressed in a burgundy velvet blazer, a white button-down, medium-wash jeans, and brown oxfords. With his hair slicked back, he looks rather dapper.

“Not bad, Elliott Stone. Not bad at all.” She grins at him.

“Thank you, all me.” He does a spin for her. “I gave my stylist the night off.”

She applauds him. He picks up her other shoe and slides it on her foot. After he secures the strap around her ankle, his fingers find their way up her leg. His hand flirts with the idea of lifting her silk chiffon hem.

Arden leans down to caress his face. She tilts her head to kiss him, then pauses and raises an eyebrow.

“You know we don't do quickies.” She launches from the bed.

“Touché, Mrs. Stone.” Eli catches her wrist and smiles. Getting to his feet, he steps in front of her. “I must say, you do look incredible tonight.” His eyes run the height of her frame. “But you missed something.”

“What?” She glances down at herself.

Elliott undoes three pearl buttons on her dress, exposing the lace trim of her bra. “Casper likes a little more cleavage.”

Arden laughs and looks down at her shoes, then back up to smile at him. “Not so blind after all, are you?”

“I'm not Ray Charles. But even he could have seen the way that guy looked at you.” Eli takes her hand. “Can't blame him, though. Who could ignore these? ...” He kisses her lips. “These ...” He trails a finger between her breasts. “And especially, this.” Grabbing her ass, he dips her backward, supporting her weight on his left leg.

“That's not all there is to me.” She laughs. “Maybe he likes my personality.”

“Nah, you're not that interesting. Thank God, for your looks.”

“And thank goodness you're educated.” She strokes his cheek. “Only a mother could love this face.”

“See? There's that shining personality.” Elliott pulls her upright.

Arden stops at the door and gives him a smoldering look over her shoulder. “Come on. We can't be late for my date.”

Elliott and Arden arrive at the Callaghan's home about fifteen minutes early. They approach the door hand in hand and ring the doorbell. Seconds later Karma appears in the doorway looking like the picture-perfect beauty queen.

“You're punctual. How polite,” Karma observes with a smile.

Her former dancer figure is draped in a navy, quarter-length sleeve dress with a high-low hem. She's wearing a pair of black, studded booties and her eyes have been shrouded in a haze of metallic-gray shadow. Arden wonders if Karma owns any clothes in less somber colors.

“This is for you.” Elliott hands a bottle of Chianti to Karma.

“And thoughtful.” Karma steps back and opens the door of her home to the Stones. “Come on inside. Casper's in the great room.”

She closes the door behind them, then leads Arden and Elliott down the hallway into a room at the back of the house.

The realtor who sold the Callaghans' house labeled this rather large space as the bonus room. A room with no predetermined use which lends itself well to a fifty-two-inch, 3-D television, full wet bar, and a collection of basketball memorabilia.

Lots of old leather, Cuban cigars, twenty-year-old scotch, and every gaming platform and tape of Richard Pryor's stand-up has found its forever-home here. This is the one room in the entire house that reflects Casper.

Arden and Elliott descend a couple of steps into the room. Casper pulls his attention from the game coverage on the flat screen and greets their guests.

He shakes Eli's hand. “Nice to see you again, Elliott.”

“Likewise. Thanks for having us.”

Speaking of having . . .

Casper approaches Arden, takes both of her hands in his, and places a kiss on her cheek. “Arden, it's a pleasure.”

A pleasure indeed . . .

His touch and the spice of his cologne makes her close her eyes to enjoy it. As images of her encounter with Casper the Friendly Ghost in her bathtub come back to her, she pulls away from him.

“As are you, Casper.”

An awkward silence hangs in the air, while Casper's gaze lingers over the flustered Arden.

Karma steps between her husband and Ardi. She raises her eyebrow at him.

“Casper, why don't you make our guests a drink, while I go check on dinner?” She pats her palm against his chest, before leaving the room.

He does as Karma asks and offers a beverage to Arden and Elliott. Casper opens a temperature-controlled cabinet and produces a bottle of single malt scotch.