Page 46 of Broken SEAL'S Secret Baby
“We won’t have long,” she whispers, “Cece will be up. And I want you. I want you right now, before I have to share you with everyone and all the things that need to be done!”
“Your wish is my command,” I whisper back. I had no more desire to be interrupted than she did. I ease back up over her, and slowly ease my length inside her. Her eyes open wide, and she gives a sharp intake of breath but makes noother sound. But I feel her increase in tension, as she tilts her hips to meet me.
Then I am lost in the feel of her, her scent compounding of her shampoo, her arousal, and her. My awareness becomes hyper-focused, narrowing down to the center of our mutual pleasure, as we find our rhythm. She matches me, stroke for stroke, wrapping her legs about me to give me better access. Even in the throes of passion, she retains enough awareness to be silent. Only a hoarse intake of breath, shuddering tension and subsequent relaxation tells me that she has reached her climax. Her muscles hug me, and I follow after her in a cascade of ecstasy.
Rain continues to pound on the roof. I ease myself down beside her, wishing we could stay there forever. But I know my daughter will be up soon, and her brother will be knocking on our door. I kiss her again, then whisper in her ear, “To be continued.” Then I slip out of bed and retire to the miniscule bath to clean up and get dressed. Kate slips past me as I come out, lifting her face for a quick kiss. I oblige, then say a little hoarsely, “Careful there, or we’ll wind up back in bed.”
She giggles, as I had intended her to, and goes on to take her turn at the facilities, such as they were. We’d need to see about water, sewer, and power for everyone – and soon.
Dressed, I step to the door and open it. In the distance, I can hear the sound of rushing water. It irritates me that it continues raining. I’m not sure why it should, but it did. We’d already managed through one storm. Now, I have people who need a day or two of sunny weather to regroup and be safe. But that is weather for you. It never pays attention to people’s needs.
James, wearing a yellow rain slicker, rain hat, and fishing boots, comes walking toward me from the direction of the sound of the rushing water. “The creek’s up,” he says. “Weneed to move everyone to higher ground. How much land do you have here?”
“You should know,” I replied. “You helped me buy it. There’s three hundred acres. The stream cuts diagonally across it. The highest point is a little town called Spindizzy. You should recall it because I had a devil of a time buying it. I had to lease part of it back to the owners to get their consent.”
“Yeah, I remember that now,” James says. “You aren’t going to get a warm welcome up that way.”
“No,” I agree, “Likely not. Is there anything they need? Medical clinic? Fire department? Post office? How can I sweeten the deal so that moving a small village next door to them isn’t going to cause a riot?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” James drawls casually, “Give back ownership of their town?”
“James!” I exclaim. “It was a ghost town. About one house in twenty was occupied, and there were hardly more than one hundred dwellings in the first place. I just bought the property last year. With a little more time, I can make it into a thriving community again.”
“Well, you see,” James says, “That’s one of your blind spots, Chief. I can hear a lot of ‘I’ and ‘me’ in that statement, and not much ‘they’ and ‘them.’ Have you asked those last twenty inhabitants what they really want?”
I fold my arms, the rain soaking my hair and dripping in rivulets into my collar. “I suppose you have?”
James gives a wry smile. “Didn’t need to. One of the residents is a local sports hero who heads up the volunteer fire and rescue. An older couple who runs the post office are my great-uncle and great-aunt on Mom’s side of the family. I didn’t realize when you wanted to acquire some acreage in Kansas that you were going to buy up a whole town.”
“Well, shit,” I say. “Why didn’t you say so when I purchased it?”
James looks troubled. “Because it is a ghost town, and it’s going to fall apart soon if no one does anything about it. I know you’ve been grieving, but the folks there are beginning to wonder if anything is going to change.”
Charles sighs. He had loved being a recluse with his daughter and her nanny. But it seems that the world has moved on, pandemic or not, while he had been sequestered in his penthouse. “Are there any buildings that are sound? What about utilities?”
“Well, the old GoGetters grocery might be alright. It was a sort of department store and farmer’s market. It was closed just about five years ago when the last heir passed away, and some city slicker bought up the location.” James gives Charles a toothy grin. “It isn’t tornado safe, though.”
I blow a drop of water off my nose. “Well, hell,” I say.
Kate says from behind me, “Guys! Cece’s going to wake up soon. Let me out so I can walk Gidget. She swears she’s about to burst.”
I step aside, amazed at how put together and proper Kate looks, considering what we’d been doing only a short while ago. She continually gives me more reasons to be amazed. I am too busy ogling her to pay attention to where I am stepping, and I wind up ankle deep in a rain puddle. Gidget, then Kate, make a similar splashdown. Gidget pulls her unfortunate human tagalong to slightly higher ground before doing her business.
“Is the old grocery store parking lot paved?” I ask, surveying the haphazard arrangement of vehicles.
“Yeah,” James says.
“Then let’s get these people to higher ground before we have to get a bus or tow them out.”
“On it, Chief,” James says. “The truck is still hitched up.Can you get the camper, Cece, and Kate up-slope before it really cuts loose?”
I turn around to tell Kate what is going on, but she cuts past me, saying, “I’ll get things battened down and get everyone into the pickup cab.”
By the time I have the camper braces lifted, Kate is strapping Cece into the car seat. She has the cat carrier backpack strapped to her shoulders, and Gidget sits in the passenger seat.
“Where are we headed?” she asks, as I get in.
“An old grocery store parking lot in Spindizzy,” I reply.
