by Lara Sweety
“I used to think I could save the world, you know?”
Laurel nodded for her to go on.
“But I can’t. Solve a few crimes, process a few criminals into the revolving door system. A few big cases, but it no longer holds for me what it did as I worked my way up. I just don’t know where to go from here. I suddenly don’t give a shit anymore. I’m thirty for Pete’s sake.” She buried her face into her knees and sighed.
“If there is one thing I’ve learned, it is that we can change, adapt and go on.” Laurel encouraged her. “Jen, you can have your career and a family or walk away all together. Cake is made for eating. It looks so good, but if you don’t take a bite, you can’t taste it.”
“But it’s all I know,” Jen breathed.
“Yes, and that’s the problem. You have to walk away from your comfort zone to see where it could lead you. My family didn’t think I needed to go to college, but I did. I’m better off for it. I went part-time until I finished my degree. I still wound up running the farm, but I’m better at it than I would have been otherwise. I’m part owner of a restaurant, too. I’ve been able to do things I wouldn’t have been able to do if I hadn’t stepped outside my comfort zone. If we ever get out of this mess, you need to come to the farm and stay a while I think.”
“Maybe.” Jen felt trapped and didn’t really know how or what she needed to do to change it.
They sat in silence for a while enjoying the changing tide and the gentle touch of the waves. Jen broke in, “Think we can get a massage?” She laughed. “We are supposed to be on vacation, right?”
“Mmmhmm!” Laurel agreed. The two women headed back to the main house together, both feeling as if they had made a new friend.
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Early evening approached and Jen found herself relaxing at the hands of an experienced massage therapist. She wasn’t quite sure how the masseuse found kinks she didn’t know she had, but it felt fantastic. Her eyes closed and she allowed herself to relax. Jen pondered what Laurel had said. Could she just walk away? Do something different? Maybe get married and do the happily-ever-after thing? What was keeping her from it? Why wasn’t there a man in her life?
It slammed into her with the force of a freight train. Jolted, she opened her eyes and lifted her head, reorienting. The cold case—her parents’ death. The therapist gently pushed her head back down commanding her to relax. The case had spurred her toward police work and driven her to excel in the field, but she still hadn’t solved it.
It haunted her. No team she had ever assigned it to, could come up with anything more than she had. What was missing in her thought process? She had to go back to the beginning, dig harder, ask more questions, and push farther. At least it would give her something to do while she was stuck on the island. It was time to be freed from her continual life limbo. With a clear goal in mind, Jen relaxed fully and nearly slept through the rest of the massage.
Chapter 12
Sinking into the center of her plush bed, Jen didn’t feel like she wanted to move. She’d dried her hair, but was so relaxed she couldn’t bear the idea of putting clothes on. For once, naked felt incredible, liberating,—sexy. Her mind wondered to Adam. He was an ass, but then again, an incredibly hot ass.
She fit him, and he her. It wasn’t easy to find a man that was capable of winding around her tall, strong frame, but Adam MacClain was certainly a candidate. Hell, he’d picked her up, thrown her over his shoulder, and carried her from the beach all the way back to the house, the first time she’d tried to run. The view had been incredible. Strong back, powerful legs—between, oh lord. She’d had to resist the urge to grab it just to see what it felt like.
Thoughts of him awakened a deep over powering sensation that filled her core and radiated outward like electricity surging through her veins. The peaks of her breasts revealed her want. Naked and alone, with no schedule to keep, she allowed herself a very personal luxury.
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Adam MacClain had only gone to check on his charge that evening. Relieving the guards at her patio door, his goal was to get Jen to talk to him—have a real conversation. God, she was something else. He’d have to be careful to make sure he kept his mind, and his body separated, so he could keep a clear head around her. When he came near the glass doors that faced the beach, he realized what he was having the privilege of seeing.
Adam stayed behind the decorative, potted shrubs, him just out of sight and her in full view. He froze in awe. He was transfixed by her beauty. Damn. Her long, golden blonde hair was down. It flowed across the pillow, framing her angular face, and melting around her feminine shoulders. She was tall, and strong, not thin, but not round, toned. Lovely pink-brown nipples sat as amazingly hard peaks high upon round, beautiful breasts that he knew would feel incredible in his hands. His mouth watered.
Her long firm thighs were now gently parted, her left hand moving between them, slowly, but with purpose. Her right was at the swell of breasts, toying with the firm peaks encouraging them higher, brushing, stroking. Her face was taut with the tension of impending ecstasy.
“This is giving me some serious wood, Jen, baby,” he thought quietly, but out loud. Nothing in his SEAL training had prepared him to be able to pull away from this. Adam stood unwavering and undetected, mesmerized by her body, and the eroticism of watching her pleasure herself.
He quivered with her as she bucked her hips against her now quick hand. Growing rock hard below his Navy issue belt, it was all he could do not to join her as he watched her body arc, and heard the final rush of her climax, a silky alliteration that rose from her throat. Adam closed his eyes for a second, trying desperately to refocus. He was still transfixed as he watched her final strokes, and her body settling, coming down from her incredible high. I want to give you that look on your face, baby. He longed to touch her. He smiled, watching her roll away, pulling the covers around her before falling into blissful sleep. Their conversation would have to wait.
Chapter 13
Laurel’s daughter, Shannon, was helping in the compound’s small hospital, attending to a couple of soldiers injured in a boat rescue drill. Extending her nursing training was important to Shannon. Laurel was proud of her children and their drive to excel. Shannon’s absence left her only one option for female company. As the only other uncoupled female in the resort-style compound, Jen joined Laurel on the beach again the next day. Everyone that was under protection had grouped together for the day to have fun.
“Well I’m glad today that I’m a matter of ‘national security’!” Jen joked, yelling the familiar thought to Laurel over the roar of jet skis. Laurel was, for once, glad to have known Jake LeGrande. The acquaintance had some perks apparently.
The two women had the opportunity for quiet conversation later that day. “I think I know what has me stuck.” Jen broke the silence in their sun-soaked position on the beach. Laurel was glad to see Jen relaxing and opening up.
“Oh?” Laurel turned her head toward Jen.
“I need to find out who is responsible for my parents’ death. It’s the cold case I’ve never been able to solve.”
Laurel waited to see if she had something else to add, then asked, “I know I’m no detective, but I do like details. Do you want help? We could work on it while we are here. I think I can get ‘Navy’s’ cooperation.” Laurel smiled, and she thought of mystery books she’d read as a child.
Jen nodded, “Sure.”
She thought of herself for a moment as a detective. It would be nice to be of help and to have an adventure. They were interrupted by a Navy administrative clerk who approaching them stiffly.
“At ease, soldier. We are in the middle of the frickin’ Caribbean!” Laurel’s saucy side was showing again.
The clerk acknowledged her, tipping, his hat. “Ma'am.”
He let a slight grin creep in. “Your presence is requested,” he noted while handing envelopes to both her and Jen.
Laurel read
the note and looked at Jen. “Shall we?”
Jen nodded.
“Dinner is at seven o’clock. Have a good afternoon.” He tipped his cap again and went on his way.
“Private dinner—the four of us. Huh. Wonder what that’s all about?” Jen mused. Laurel laughed, “Jen, have you not seen the way Adam looks at you? I know I’m his mother, but—are you blind girl?!”
“It would never work,” Jen dismissed the thought.
“Why? Sweetie, if you always run from the possibility of getting hurt, you are going to miss something amazing, I promise you. Besides, I know Adam would never hurt you, at least not on purpose. He’s like his fa—, like his daddy.” The verbal trip didn’t go unnoticed.
“Your turn.” Jen prompted Laurel attempting to change the subject.
“Huh?”
“Yesterday, I told you about myself. Now it’s your turn.”
“What do you want to know?” Laurel hid behind her sunglasses.
“Just start,” Jen pushed.
Laurel shrugged her shoulders. “Well, Grandma Maralee always did say, ‘...the beginning, honey, just start at the beginning...’.” Really, though, there isn’t anything exciting or fabulous. Just regular folks. Life.”
“Okay. Derrick, then. You said his story was for another day. It’s another day.” Jen chirped.
“Well, Derrick came to stay with me about a year after Jahn died; it was around the middle of May, about nine years ago....” Laurel looked off into the distance, searching for the pieces of her life in the deep blue water.
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Chapter 14
Smiling, she’d watched the house disappear in a cloud of dust, behind the Chevy 4x4, as she turned onto Siddy Creek Road. The lilacs in the drive were in full bloom and the scent had filled the cab of the truck. The oaks were leafing out and everything was turning green. The fields held the promise of future champions with new foals and calves everywhere.
Getting away for an afternoon was nice, but coming back would be even better. The year’s foal crop was playing tag in a lush green pasture below the horse barn. Mid-Missouri couldn’t have been more beautiful. The homestead had a view that her grandmother had said would, “...stop a city boy and make him cry...”.
It had been Grandma Maralee, who’d told her about the magic of the big red barn. Laurel choked up a little as she realized how much she missed her grandmother. Grams, as Laurel so affectionately referred to her, had told her the love story of her and Siddy when Laurel had been of age.
From her children’s births, all the way back to her days as a bubbly teenager and back to the day she met Siddy, Grams would jump in time, but you could always follow her stories.
Grams was a free spirit and believed in passionate living and loving; it was part of what Grandpa Siddy had found so wonderful about her. She didn’t mind talking about love, sex, and relationships; her granddaughters had grown up the same way. Laurel had hoped to live out her days, and grow old with the same man, the way Grams had. It just wasn’t meant to be.
Laurel sighed. Loving that farm might be the death of her. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. She was alone trying to make their dream happen—without him. She’d kept it together in the months since he’d been gone. Her education helped, and she knew how to network, but it was still a lot to handle. The horses had always been hers and Jahn had managed the row crop and hay operation. Now it was all up to her.
On her way to town, she considered how badly she needed a break. She was looking forward to her dinner date, and seeing Addy. Siddy Creek Farm faded behind her; she hit the main road and picked up speed toward the interstate. It would be good to catch up.
Laurel arrived at City Creek Bar & Grill—mid-afternoon to beat the rush. The restaurant had the farm for its namesake with a clever spelling twist. She loved that about it. It would be a good time to chat with her sister, Adrianne Hanson. Adrianne had been “Addy” for as long as she could remember. Walking into the restaurant, she noted all the things she loved about it. The place was incredibly upscale, while maintaining rustic roots.
She loved all the special touches she and Addy had enjoyed designing. The stone fireplaces, the water fall, the hand-scraped oak floors in the VIP areas, and in the bar. The stone-look exterior with an entrance framed in large timbers had set the tone for the entire building. The design had been the perfect marriage of modern and rustic.
Addy enveloped her sister in a bear hug. “Hey sis, it’s so good to see you!”
“Hi ya!” Laurel squeezed her tight, “How’s it going?” She smiled brightly at her sister.
“Good, good. Well—any hot dates? Still single?” Adrianne teased her.
“Geez Addy, you think we could sit down first?” she said chuckling. Laurel had known it was coming. Addy wanted to see her happy and it was her way of telling her it was okay to try for love again. Her sister knew better, there was no one special. They spoke often on the phone, but it was good to hug and see each other face to face.
“So, how we doin’?” Laurel pointed to the reports in Addy’s hand, as they scooted into one of the plush red leather booths that had become the preferred seating of City Creek customers.
“Good to great. Here, take a look.” Addy pushed the reports to Laurel. They were impressive, consistently in the black, and very profitable over all.
“Good job, gal!” The younger sister grinned at her sister’s praise.
The waiter politely interrupted the exchange so they could order drinks. When her Maralee’s Margarita arrived, Laurel sat back and sipped it, relaxing. “Best drink in the house!” she laughed with Addy. Laurel spent a few minutes bemoaning her problems with the farm. Addy was a great listener with an excellent head for business. They could always find a solution to a problem together. The conversation soon drifted to other things.
“Who is it this time?” Adrianne Hanson raised her brows at her sister.
“Ellie. Darra’s daughter.” Laurel sipped on the drink again.
“Good grief, you missed your calling, Laurel. You should have been a sex therapist. Well, Dr. Ruth, is it bad?” Addy prodded.
“No, and you know I never kiss and tell on a friend—or anyone. You know, ‘doctor-patient privilege’ and all that!” She smirked. Laurel might have been open, but she didn’t share other people’s problems.
“I know, I know, just in the mood for a juicy story. Where’s Grams when you need her?” The two of them fell into peals of laughter, both knowing the depth of Grandma Maralee’s stories.
Ellie Tanner surprised them.
“Oh,” a worried look covered Ellie’s face, “I thought we...,” she looked questioningly at Laurel.
“I was just getting up, Ellie. No worries. The grill chef is having a fit about the steak cuts. I’ll be busy all afternoon solving that one.” With a hug for Laurel and a wave to the worried young woman, Addy scurried off to the kitchen.
Ellie Tanner slid in beside Laurel, instantly spilling everything about her relationship with her husband. She was married to Daniel Tanner. Adam was friends with Daniel. Ellie had met Daniel while she, and her mother Darra, had stayed at the farm after Darra’s divorce. Desperation was in Ellie’s voice.
“You need to figure out that you are in love with him, and that he loves you, Ellie. That love will give you the trust you need to open yourself to him—your body, your mind.” This was Laurel’s intro to the advice she was about to give.
“But I do!” Ellie flipped her hands to the sides of her head in exasperation, and then buried her face back in them, elbows on the table. She was blushing from embarrassment and frustrated with her situation.
“Ellie, is there something you feel ashamed or scared of?” Softly, Laurel pushed her to open up.
Ellie's frustration boiled over, and she bared her intimate life for Laurel. Ellie Tanner would tell her friend some of the most private details of her marriage. Her reservations about oral sex, her difficulty climaxing, her image issues with
her round bottom, her scar, her none-to-big breasts, her fear of Daniel leaving her, everything—splayed into the air for review.
Looking side-to-side to assure herself they were still reasonably alone that afternoon in City Creek, she continued, “What do I do?!”
Laurel had never been known to mince words with it came to sex. She just couldn’t see a reason to hide something so beautiful. As far as she was concerned, the world’s view of sex, body image, and morays were convoluted, ill formed, twisted, and wrongly promoted.
“Honey, two people who love each other wholly will learn to worship each others’ bodies completely. He loves you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He loves your boobs and round butt and doesn’t see the scar. Let him give you pleasure and you give back. He loves everything about you. Let him have you, let him see you.”
“Ack! You mean, like, do it with the lights on?” Ellie sounded panicked.
“Yes, for starters. Let him undress you with the lights on. Turn them off before you climb into bed. He will appreciate the view, Ellie. Relax and let him see all your curves. Big or small, everything is right for him. Not every man likes the same thing; we aren’t all driving a Ford. Your body is what he wants. You are what he wants. You are beautiful—don’t try to hide it. Offer yourself to him completely. There is no greater offering to the man you love. Once you see that he really loves to see you, to feel you, you will relax and enjoy the experience too. He loves you Ellie. Trust him.”
Ellie nodded, her pouting lips and misting eyes told of overwhelming emotion. Ellie was the daughter of one of Laurel’s oldest friends. While Ellie had trusted her mother, Darra, with a lot, there were just things that “Aunt Laurel” was the “go-to gal" for. This was one of those times. She hugged her confidant. “I’m sorry for being so emo, Laurel. I don’t want to lose him; I don’t want it to fall apart because of my hang-ups.” A tear trickled down her face.
