“You mess up this one, and I’ll have to attend your funeral after Katie kills you.” Jeb stopped and looked into his brother’s eyes. “Don’t mess up.”
Butch saw the pain in his brother’s eyes—eyes which threatened that something cold and painful lurked behind the chiseled face. Butch worried about Jeb. He locked what happened that day on the pier inside an icy core, possibly for forever. Here at the new house with Kate and Tom, he saw glimpses of the man that was his brother, and that gave him hope.
“I won’t.” Butch smiled, high on life. “She won’t let me. Pushy woman. Where are you going?”
“Helping a friend.”
“You have a vest on. Do you have help yourself?”
Jeb climbed into the truck. “I just need to check on his little sister. I’m taking the chopper. I’ll be back tomorrow. Next day at the latest. Tell Katie I love her.”
Butch grinned at his brother. “The hell I will. Get your ass back here, and tell her yourself.”
Butch trotted back into the courtyard a happy man. He snuck up on Kate as she chatted with his mother’s church group and nibbled her neck. He breathed in her scent. “The smell of wild strawberries always makes me so damned hungry. Come with me, Mrs. McCormick. I want to show you something.”
Katie playfully held back, giving her apologies to her guests as he tugged her. “I think I’ve already seen that show, Mr. McCormick.”
“Little woman, are you going to come peaceful-like?” Butch lowered his eyes and growled at her mockingly.
“I told you. I’m not the little-woman type.” Kate giggled, dancing around Butch, playing hard to get.
Butch grinned. “I was hoping we’d do this the hard way.” Butch shouldered his bride and ran into their wing of the house, nudging their dogs aside and locking the door firmly behind him. Once up the stairs, he threw her onto the bed and tossed the long skirt up.
Kate laughed as satin and lace covered her face.
“You have boots on.”
“What else is a girl going to wear on her wedding day?” Kate tugged off her panties and rolled on top of Butch. With eager hands, she stripped him down to skin. Her long fingernails, painted white and trimmed with sparkles, teased over his tense muscles. She took her time, tasting him, savoring every line, every valley, every plane. “You have something for me, Mr. McCormick?”
Butch moaned with blessed torture and fitted her over him. He wanted to remember the sight of her this way forever: her face as flushed as her dark red hair, the swell of her breasts pushing at the sculpted dress, and that look on her face.
“Wait.” He reached across the bed for his coat. He fished in his pocket and pulled out his phone.
Kate sat up straight. “You’re calling someone? Now?”
Butch worked the touch screen and took her picture. “Put that sexy look back on your face. Yeah, that’s the one.”
Kate swirled her hips and teased him until he couldn’t see straight. Butch tossed the camera aside and grabbed her hips with hard fingers, taking control of the situation. He drove up hard and fast, showing no mercy when her body convulsed over his. He wrapped his arms around her body and thrust into her until he exploded, filling her.
They lay locked together, both unwilling to have any distance between them. As the heat of sex wore off, Kate propped herself up and looked down into her husband’s eyes. She kissed his chin and sighed. “I love you.”
Butch ran his thumb along her jaw. “I know you do. I love you, too. You’re everything to me.”
“I believe you. I feel it.” Kate kissed him gently, deeply, showing how much he meant to her. “We should get back before people think we’ve gotten lost.”
Butch rolled with his wife, pinning her under his body. He moved his hips in a slow, languid rhythm that had her mewing like a kitten. “We’re not lost, Katie. We’re found, and I’m going to stay found with you forever.”
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to the many talented and patient people who helped bring Butch and Katie to life. Thanks to Kristen for teaching this city girl about farming, to Mitch from North Wells Service Center for helping me hobble Kate’s Shelby, and to Laura Stone for bringing out the Southern charm in this story. Thank you to Kyra, Kristen, Anna, Sue, and Michelle for being the first to read my story and giving me the courage to go public. Thank you to my mother, Jane, and my aunt, Barbara, for your constant love and support. Thank you, reader, for spending your time with me. I first wrote this to entertain myself—to laugh, to daydream, to escape. Now I entrust it to you, hoping it lightens your day and brings a smile to your face.
About the Author
Anita DeVito is a Cleveland, Ohio, native who grew up on a diet of mysteries, rock-n-roll, and her nonna’s homemade pasta. By day, she works as a Civil Engineer unraveling the mysteries of water challenges, while by night, she applies her talents to the vexing question of “Who dunnit?” Visit Anita’s website at www.AnitaDeVitoWrites.com for more information on her fast-paced style of storytelling and to sign up for her news-less newsletter, Equinoxious. Start every season with short stories, games, puzzles, and some brain teasing fun. Anita lives with her husband, two sons, and two ornery dogs.
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