No Ocean Deep

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No Ocean Deep Page 29

by Cate Swannell


  “That’s why the universe provided you with me, darling,” Jo replied cheekily. She reached down with one long arm. “Come on, shortie. Between the two of us we should be able to get you up here.”

  “Brat.”

  A few dusty, scrambling minutes later they were up on the roof. Jo settled herself on the sloping corrugated iron, and braced her feet firmly as she pulled Cadie down till she was sitting between the skipper’s legs.

  “Comfortable?” Jo asked, amused by Cadie’s squirming.

  The American snuggled back against her taller partner’s shoulder and sighed contentedly. “I am now,” she said softly, turning her head and kissing Jo just under the line of her jaw. “This was a good idea, Jo-Jo. Though I’m not even going to try and understand why your roof has a removable panel in it.”

  Jo grinned. “When I was about 12, Mum decided she wanted to put a sunroof in, in the bathroom. They got half the work done and then she changed her mind.” She chuckled throatily. “Let’s just say I saw an opportunity for some fun and found a way to bypass the repairs.”

  Cadie laughed softly. “I wish I’d known you then,” she said. “I bet we would have had some fun.” Jo smiled and nodded. “Doesn’t it leak when it rains?” Jo raised an amused eyebrow.

  “Darling, we’ve been here three weeks. Have you seen one cloud?”

  “Hmmm, good point.”

  “Mhmm.” Jo looked away to the east, where a thin line of pinks and oranges was beginning to emerge along the horizon, outlining the stark silhouettes of the trees. Somewhere, a lone, early-rising kookaburra let loose with a string of warbling laughs.

  “S’beautiful,” Cadie whispered. She placed her hands on Jo’s thighs, feeling the warmth through the fabric of her sweatpants. “You’re going to miss this place, aren’t you?”

  There was a pause as Jo took it all in. “Silly, isn’t it?” she finally replied, sighing deeply. “I didn’t miss it enough to come back here for 15 years. Now I’ve only been here five minutes and I hate the fact I’m going to lose it again.”

  Cadie patted her thighs softly. “Not silly at all, love,” she answered. “I’ve only been here five minutes as well, and I’m certainly going to miss it.” She tilted her head back and watched Jo’s profile, its distinctive angles and unique beauty turned golden by the rising sun. Gorgeous. “I like the thought of your parents coming north, though,” she said aloud. “It’s going to be great to have them close by.”

  Jo grunted noncommittally, but the tiny smile said plenty and Cadie chuckled softly.

  “Dad said they would bring the horses and dogs with them, so that’s good,” Jo said. “I didn’t like the idea of selling them off with the sheep and cattle.”

  “Mhmm, I know.” The rim of the sun broke above the horizon’s haze and both women stared silently at the lightening sky for a few moments of contentment. “Thank you for bringing me here, Jo-Jo,” Cadie whispered.

  “My pleasure, love.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Did you ever call Toby back?”

  Cadie’s head snapped around at the question, which had come out of the blue. Or rather, out of the damp, drizzling grey. They were onboard the Seawolf, battling their way up Whitsunday Passage against a stiff breeze and a rain squall. Below decks, a small group of Japanese tourists were trying to enjoy Jenny’s seafood lunch, a challenge, given the rather rough ride. Jo and Cadie were braving the weather on deck. The women had been back from their Coonyabby adventure about three days and had only had a day at home before picking up this group, which had been a week into a two-week cruise when their skipper had fallen ill.

  “Where did that come from?” the American asked, her eyebrow rising at the non sequitur.

  Jo grinned from under the hood of her wet-weather gear and shrugged. “Who knows?” Perched as she was on the port rail, her right foot and hand keeping the wheel on a steady heading, she looked, and felt, like a half-drowned rat. “My mind was just wandering all over the place, and that thought popped in to my brain.”

  “I love the way your mind works,” Cadie said with an affectionate smile. She tucked herself under Jo's sheltering arm and they endured the drizzling rain together for a few comfortable minutes. Cadie watched a long, slow drip of cool water hang and then drop from the edge of her raincoat's hood.

  “So did you?” Jo asked eventually.

  Cadie sighed. “Too much to ask that you would forget that question, huh?” she said, a little grumpily. The truth was she had been avoiding any thoughts of Toby, Naomi, or the United States in general since the senator's PR manager had called, and she didn’t really want to start now.

  “Sorry, love,” Jo murmured. She could hear the note of annoyance in her partner's voice and she already regretted bringing the matter up again. But she was also curious. With a twist of her wrist she adjusted the Seawolf's position as they continued to beat into the wind. Then she glanced down at her shorter lover, and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

  Tired eyes, more grey than green in the overcast conditions, looked back up at her. “No, it’s okay, Jo-Jo,” Cadie said, summoning a smile from somewhere. “Take no notice of me. I'm just a grumpy bitch today.”

  Jo smiled back at her and kissed her damp forehead softly. “No worries, sweetheart,” she said. “It's just not like you to not return someone's call, so I guess that's why it was nagging away at the back of my brain.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just couldn’t imagine that he was calling for anything other than bad news,” she admitted. “And, to be honest, I just don't want to go there.” She glanced up at Jo's puzzled look. “In my head I mean, not to the US.” She thought about that. “Well, actually I don’t want to go there either, but that's not how I meant it.” Jesus, get to the damn point, Arcadia.

  “I know,” Jo said softly. The thought of saying goodbye to the blonde, even if it was only for a few weeks, bothered the hell out of the skipper. But she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it since she figured that would only make Cadie feel worse.

  “And I guess I also decided that if it was urgent, he would call back,” Cadie continued. She looked a little sheepish at Jo's slightly amused, if tolerant, look. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just making excuses. It's not like we've been easy to catch lately.”

  When Jo had decided to fill in for the sick skipper herself, Cadie had opted to come along for the ride, and to help out where needed. And, although they'd been within reach of cell phones and the boat's radio, they hadn’t necessarily been easy to contact.

  “He could just be ringing to say g'day, y'know,” Jo said calmly. Inside she knew that was unlikely. Although Jason and Toby obviously had a lot of affection for Cadie – after all, Jason had even helped the blonde make her getaway from the senator at Sydney Airport all those weeks ago – Jo didn’t think Toby would go to the trouble of tracking her down out at Coonyabby, just to say hello.

  “I doubt it,” Cadie muttered, confirming Jo's private opinion. The blonde snuggled closer, and Jo was more than happy to accommodate her. She reached inside Cadie's wet-weather gear and wiggled her fingers under layers of clothing until she found the warm softness of her lover's stomach. Jo let her fingertips slide in comforting circles and was unsurprised to feel the compact body pressed against her begin to relax.

  “Oh, I love you,” Cadie purred, resting her head against the tall skipper's solid, if damp, shoulder. “Mmmmm, I'm giving you an hour to stop that.”

  Jo chuckled, appreciating her partner's tactile nature. Before Cadie had sailed into her life Jo had not known what it was like to express her feelings through touch. Sex she was familiar – more than familiar – with. And violence, absolutely. But gently affectionate, intimate touch? That hadn’t been anything she'd ever had a chance to learn. Cadie's tendency to touch her whenever they were talking privately, and sometimes in public, had been a revelation. She had decided she liked it. A lot.

  “When will we be home?” Cadie asked.

  “Tomorrow morning,” Jo
replied. “This mob,” she tilted her head in the direction of the companionway, where warm, golden light was shining up from the main cabin, “has a plane to catch in the early afternoon. We'll give 'em a night in Blue Pearl Bay tonight, then head back to Shute Harbor at dawn.”

  “Sounds good,” Cadie murmured. Jo's light touch on her belly was setting off the gentlest of tingles and she was rather looking forward to getting her home. “When we get home, can we spend a few days in bed?” She grinned up into Jo's rain-soaked face and laughed as a damp, but elegant eyebrow disappeared up almost to the skipper's hairline.

  “Something on your mind?” Jo drawled, a smile playing across her lips.

  “You,” Cadie answered bluntly. “And warm, dry sheets ... and a boycat.”

  Jo laughed. “What on earth do you want to do with him?” she asked, giggling.

  “Well,” Cadie replied speculatively. “That really loud purr he has could come in really ha-” A long-fingered hand muffled the end of her sentence, and she took the opportunity to lick Jo's palm with the tip of her lingering tongue.

  “Ooooo, wicked woman,” Jo murmured. She took her hand away and ducked her head, taking advantage of their solitude on deck to claim Cadie's lips in a searing kiss that made them both forget the rain, the wind, or Toby's call. They shifted so their bodies were more in contact and deepened the kiss.

  Jenny wandered up on deck, seeking a momentary escape from the constant chatter of the Japanese tourists. She'd pulled on a wet-weather poncho and her deck shoes before she stepped out of the warmth of the cabin and up on to the wet deck. It was situation normal to expect Cadie and Jo to be huddled together in the cockpit, but she could almost see the steam rising from the damp twosome.

  Recently married herself, Jenny could certainly empathize with Jo and Cadie’s need to be close. She cleared her throat loudly and then laughed when the pair barely blinked, let alone interrupted their kissing.

  Jo felt Cadie begin to pull away when she heard Jenny’s cough, but a gentle squeeze from the lanky Australian let the blonde know that they were being interrupted by a friend and not a tourist. Cadie relaxed against her once again and Jo reveled in the kiss, bringing it to a long, leisurely and altogether satisfying conclusion.

  “Mmmm,” Cadie purred as she rested her head on her lover’s shoulder, her back still to the main cockpit. “Hello, Jen.”

  “Hiya.” The deckhand moved towards them, shrugging herself deeper into her wet-weather jacket. “You two are the only people on the planet I know who actually would rather stand out here in the rain than be down in the warm.”

  Jo grinned at her friend, even as she felt Cadie shifting around so she was tucked in the crook of the Australian’s arm. “Someone’s got to drive this thing, Jen,” the skipper said.

  “And someone’s got to keep the skipper company,” the blonde tagged on.

  Jenny shook her head in mock exasperation. “You two are something to see, you know that, right?” she said, grinning at the pair who looked blissfully happy despite the persistent rain dripping into everyone’s eyes.

  “Is there a problem with that?” Jo asked, one eyebrow tilting upwards damply.

  “Nope. Not a damn thing,” Jenny replied. “It’s just cute, that’s all.”

  “Cute?” Cadie stifled a giggle at the sharp tone to Jo’s reply. “I’ve never been cute in my life Jennifer,” the skipper growled. But the deckhand wasn’t in the least bit fooled.

  “Yeah, well, you’ve sure got it nailed now, skipper.”

  Cadie’s soothing hand on her belly reminded Jo that she was being tweaked and she relaxed, grinning back at the brunette. “Ahhh, what can I tell you, Jen? It must be love.” She felt Cadie snuggle closer. “Either that or the incredibly adorable blonde under my arm is increasing my cute potential exponentially.”

  “Ooh, big words, Jo-Jo,” Cadie teased.

  “I took my smart pill this morning.”

  “I see that.”

  Jenny threw up her hands in surrender. “Oh, stop it, you two, you’re going to make me puke,” she laughed.

  “What’s happening below?” Jo asked.

  “Not a lot,” replied her crew member. “I think they’re pretty much sailed out. Ready to go home.”

  “They’re not the only ones,” Cadie murmured as she stifled a yawn. “I don’t feel like I’ve even had time to unpack since we got back from Coonyabby.”

  “We haven’t,” Jo said bluntly.

  “And I guess it won’t be long before you have to be packing again, huh Cadie?” Jenny said.

  Bummer, Cadie thought. Thanks, Jen, like I needed reminding. “Yeah, I guess so,” the blonde muttered. She tucked her head against Jo’s shoulder, seeking reassurance. And she got it, the skipper’s strong arm pulling her closer and squeezing.

  “Sorry,” Jen said hastily, realizing her mistake. “Didn’t mean to blow the mood.”

  “S’okay,” Jo said quietly. “We’ve got to think about it some time.”

  “When do you have to go back, Cadie?”

  The American sighed heavily. “Ten days,” she replied. Ten very short days.

  Three very short days. Jo sighed. She leaned on the top rail of the verandah, gazing out over the lush, green forest that surrounded the house, and beyond to the rich colors of Whitsunday Passage and the islands. Three very short days and it already feels like we’ve been saying goodbye for a week. Jo sighed again. It left a cold knot in her stomach thinking about Cadie being gone for a few weeks. I just want to get this over and done with, so we can get on with the rest of our lives.

  It had been a busy week for them both. Jo had been flat-out at the Cheswick Marine office, catching up on all the paperwork that had accumulated during their vacation at Coonyabby. She had discovered that as a company manager, she made a damn good yacht skipper, but she had also dug deep and found she very much relished the challenge of learning new skills. The week had taken its toll, however.

  “Hi,” came a soft, familiar, and very welcome voice from behind Jo’s right shoulder. The tall skipper smiled in reflex. “You look like you could use this,” said the blonde, handing Jo a tall, icy-cold glass of white wine as she moved to stand beside her partner.

  “Thanks.” Jo took a sip and purred as the cold liquid slid down her throat. “I don’t mind admitting, I’m flogged,” she said. Come to think of it, she doesn’t look too perky either, Jo thought, taking in Cadie’s weary expression and the dark circles under her eyes. “Didn’t we just have a vacation?” Jo asked wryly.

  “Mhmm.” Cadie turned and leaned her back against the rail, looking up into Jo’s face. “We did and it was lovely,” she said, a small smile playing across her lips. “I think we’ve just hit the wall the last few days.”

  Jo leaned down and brushed her lips across Cadie’s, tasting the wine there.

  “Mmm, that was nice. What brought that on?” Cadie teased.

  “Nothing much,” Jo replied. “Felt it, so I did it.” She took another mouthful of wine and looked out to sea. The sun was beginning to set behind them and the gorgeous gold and yellow tones of the fading light cast a surreal glow across the water. “Besides, it’s hard to look at that,” Jo nodded at the view, “without wanting to acknowledge it. Kissing the closest beautiful thing seemed to be a reasonable way to do that.” She grinned at the charmed expression on the American’s face.

  “My, my, Jo-Jo, you can be such a romantic.” Cadie rested a hand on Jo’s upper arm and stood on tiptoes to return the favor, lingering over the delicious contact. “I do adore you.”

  Blue eyes blinked at her. “And I you, sweetheart.”

  They pulled apart again and stood in comfortable silence, just drinking their wine and watching the ever-changing landscape before them. Finally, Jo turned back to her lover, smiling at the sun-kissed profile.

  “Did you get your flights booked?” she asked, quietly acknowledging the undercurrent that had colored their interactions all week long.

  “Yes,” C
adie sighed. She had hated doing it and the travel consultant had looked at her somewhat askance when Cadie had expressed irritation over the details. “I’m afraid I pretty much bit Samantha’s head off in the process, though.”

  “Who’s Samantha?” Jo asked.

  “Travel agent,” Cadie replied. “She kept wanting to know if I wanted to go via San Francisco or LA, or what airline, or whatever.” She looked up and locked eyes with Jo, warmed by the understanding she saw there. “I told her I didn’t much care if I went over the North Pole, as long as I got a return ticket.”

  Jo chuckled and wrapped her arm around the shorter woman’s waist. “How long do you think you’re going to need to be gone?” she asked quietly.

  “I booked the return flight for three weeks from Wednesday,” Cadie answered as she leaned against Jo’s shoulder. “I figured that would give me enough time to clean out the rest of my stuff, get it either to Mom and Dad’s place in Madison, or ship it here, plus a little extra time to visit long enough to keep them satisfied.”

  Jo nodded. “Makes sense.” Three very short days, followed by three very long weeks. She grimaced. This sucks.

  “Sucks doesn’t it?” Cadie said. She looked puzzled when Jo laughed out loud. “What did I say?”

  Jo ducked her head and kissed the blonde hair. “You literally took the words right out of my mouth, sweetheart, that’s all.” She grinned down at her partner and then sobered again. “And yes, it does suck. Mightily.”

  The phone rang inside the house and Cadie groaned inwardly. Jo had been at everyone’s beck and call all day and she had planned a quiet, romantic evening.

  If people would just leave her alone for two minutes, the American thought grumpily.

  “I’ll get it,” Jo murmured. She let go of Cadie and turned back inside before the blonde could object, stepping through into the air conditioning. One of these days I’m going to unplug this damn thing, she thought absently as she picked up the receiver. “Hello, this is Jo.”

  “Madison. It’s Ken Harding.” The cop’s familiar growl was a surprise and there was a pause as Jo adjusted. Finding out that Harding had been in contact with her parents almost from the moment she had turned herself in had been a shock. In effect, he had told her mother and father a bunch of personal history that, by rights, should have been hers to tell, or keep to herself, as she chose it. That choice had been taken away from her by a combination of circumstances.

 

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