Page 77 of Castaway Whirlwind
Gibson drops his cowboy hat on his thigh and hangs his head back on the chair. “And you’re damn lucky Allen was spotted on the other side of the border in Mexico.”
“He’s alive?” I ask with a gasp, attempting to sit up. Russell’s whole body goes stock still. Wyatt and Davis exchange an indiscernible look, which they then cut to Elliott, who looks grumpy but otherwise as expressionless as usual.
Gibson raises a brow. “Does that surprise you?”
“Um, no?” I roll and bite my lips, scooting down and pressing my face into Russell’s side. “Crap.”
“Surprises me, too,” Russell murmurs so low that only I can hear, pressing a kiss to my crown.
Shaking his head, Gibson slouches lower on his chair. “As I was saying, you got lucky, Russell. Even luckier that Allen disappeared before we could get our hands on him on this side of the border. Though, technically, he’s free to travel whenever he wants, even if he quote-unquotevoluntarilyresigned in the middle of the night under rather suspicious circumstances.”
Sheriff plops his cowboy hat over his face. “Now, if y’all don’t mind, I need my own rest and recovery. And while I do that, get your stories straight in case any of my higher-ups start questioning why Allen felt the need to cross the border illegally and was still wearing his uniform, covered head to toe in dirt, with literal piss and shit running down the back of his pants like it’d been scared out of him.”
This time, Elliott can’t help the tiniest twitch of his lips that I would have missed if I weren’t looking directly at him. Deputy Green doesn’t miss it either, going rathergreenhimself in the face, shivering as if he’s got the heebie-jeebies when he and Elliott make eye contact.
Cooke rolls her eyes, though she rests her hand on her holstered service weapon and takes a half-step in front of Green. It’s cute how they scuffle when Green tries to take a protective step in front of her, but Cooke won’t let him.
Sheriff pushes his brim up enough to ask Elliott shrewdly, “I don’t need to worry about you and a hitchhiker or waitress giving me trouble next, do I?”
It’s as if Elliott’s mental walls have become visible, slamming shut over his face, his answer a silent yet resoundingno.
“Good.” Five seconds later, Sheriff is snoring louder than a bullhorn, sleeping through the two nurses who are actually able to force everyone except Russell out of my room so my surgeon and I can talk privately, my future growing impossibly brighter by the minute.
* * *
Russell
After another overnight stay, Violet hands me the forms I requested when I excuse myself to meet up with her in a side hallway. “This only works if you can slip them in with her discharge papers to sign.”
I’m pleased as punch when I step back into Layla’s hospital room, more than ready to get my woman alone at home. Dolly winks when she sees I have the papers, and she distracts the discharge nurse by pulling him into a conversation long enough for me to slip the marriage license forms in the middle of the stack of documents.
Once Layla has signed everything, flipping through each sheet of paper without reading them, I give Faye a nod. It’s her turn to distract the nurse while I thumb through the documents behind the nurse’s back, finding the ones I need with my heart tripping over itself with longing.
I subtly pass the forms to Violet, who’s waiting on the other side of the door. “Tell Carolina I said thanks.”
“Will do. Twenty-eight days,” Violet says with a twinkle in her eye.
* * *
“Three days, darlin’,” I whisper so as not to wake Layla, lifting the comforter to get into bed once I finish my call with Violet, working on some last-minute details long after Layla fell asleep on her stomach, one knee hiked up high on the mattress. She’s wearing one of her new white cotton nightgowns, clutching her fat, two-foot-long grizzly teddy bear like a body pillow, which I gave to her to replace the white one we burned in the fire pit at Dolly and Wyatt’s house. She cried, I cried. Dolly cried, of course. It was cathartic.
Getting comfortable and slipping my hand up the back of Layla’s thigh, which has thickened deliciously over the past few weeks now that she’s no longer working herself to death, my blood heats when I find her hip naked, her bottom bare. Tonight’s the first night since her surgery that she hasn’t worn panties to bed, wanting more than cuddles.
Though I have the light of the moon to see by at night, I’ve plugged in a few nightlights. My little darlin’ is the scenic view anywhere we go, not the landscape.
After scooting down the bed without jostling it, I kiss the underside of her cheek and flip the hem of her nightgown up and out of the way. “You were waiting for Daddy’s kiss goodnight, weren’t you?”
Gently pushing her knee up higher to spread her wider, I bury my face in her and lick a line between her pussy lips, carefully sliding a hand over her hip to caress the tiny, life-changing, fresh scar near her navel. It was astonishing howthe town came together to pay for both of our hospital stays after Faye passed an absurdly large pickle jar around at the diner.
Popping my index finger in my mouth, I get it nice and wet, then slip it between Layla’s thighs from behind and press the pad against her clit, applying the gentlest of pressure as I massage it. It’s enough to have her lips parting with a puff of air as her breathing accelerates, but not enough to make her twitch or awaken.
My cock aches in my sweatpants, missing the warmth of her wrapped around me, and I sit up on my knees, straddling her straight leg to push the thick fabric down. I squeeze my shaft from root to tip, then swipe my index through my precum beading at the slit, returning to her clit as I slowly jack my cock. Staring at my hand at the juncture of her thighs, I edge myself as I think about sliding into her an inch at a time and how deep I may be able to go without hurting her now.
“Soon, darlin’, your belly won’t be so little anymore.” My eyes roll back in my head with pleasure while I thrust my cock through my closed fist. “I’ve already made the appointment. Can’t wait to surprise you. F—I’m gonna cum just thinking about it.”
“Daddy,” Layla moans. My eyes pop open to find her straightening her other leg and pushing her bear away so she can roll further onto her stomach. She arches her back and tilts her hips up, presenting her bottom. “What appointment?”
I abandon her clit and my cock so I can kiss the top of her bottom and work my way up her body, lowering myself over her, pinning her legs together between my knees, bracing my elbows on either side of her shoulders. “Were you pretending to be asleep?” I ask, pushing my face into the crook of herneck. I slide my cock between her inner thighs, skimming her pussy, teasing her as much as I do myself.
