by Jane Keeler
“We need shoes, can’t forget the shoes!” Karlee said. “You can wear heels, right?”
“I… don’t rightly know,” Sarah replied.
They decided on a pair of antique-gold pumps with three-inch stiletto heels. Sarah wobbled through her first few turns up and down the aisle in her new shoes, but soon got the hang of it. She wouldn’t want to spend the whole day in them, but they sure looked good.
She looked good.
Gabe disappeared for a moment and came back with a bag full of Sarah’s old things. Karlee cut the tags out of Sarah’s new clothes and gave her a final once-over.
“I think you need earrings,” Karlee said.
“I think you’re right,” Gabe said. He disappeared again and came back with a set of gold earrings in a simple round knot shape.
Sarah had a little trouble putting them on, since her ear piercings had practically closed over, but they put the finishing touch on her outfit.
“You look terrific, Sarah,” Karlee said.
“She sure does,” Gabe said. He and Karlee exchanged a conspiratorial grin.
“I’m feeling a little tired,” Karlee said. “It’s been a great day, but I’d like to turn in early. I slept great last night but I’ve still got a lot of catching up to do.”
“We should go back to the hotel,” Gabe said.
“Karlee, would you like another treatment, dear?” Sarah asked.
“No, no.” Karlee put her arm around Sarah’s waist and hugged her. “I feel good, I just want to lie down and relax for a while.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Westley was waiting for them in the hotel lobby. When he saw Sarah he was immediately on his feet and walking towards her as if pulled by some irresistible force. Karlee and Gabe grinned at each other and slipped tactfully away.
Westley reached out and took Sarah’s hand. “Have dinner with me,” he said.
“Sure,” Sarah said. “You want to try the hotel restaurant instead of room service this time?”
“No,” Westley said. “I mean, come out on a date with me.”
“Oh.” Sarah blushed. “I’d love to.”
“I know just the place.” Westley smiled.
The restaurant was swanky but surprisingly low-key. The walls were yellow and covered with simply-framed pictures of former patrons; the lighting was cozy and intimate. The wait staff were warm and friendly—their attitude did a lot to make Sarah feel comfortable. She noticed some male heads turning to look at her (and female heads turning to look at Westley). She felt his hand on the small of her back and smiled. The hostess led them to their table, which was covered in a crisp white tablecloth.
The food was simple but well seasoned and perfectly cooked. Their waiter was almost like an invisible genie out of a folktale; their courses appeared before them like magic and their water glasses were somehow always full.
Westley ordered a red wine with a rich earthy flavor, and Sarah got a little tipsy. She enjoyed the food and the wine and the service, but all she really saw throughout the evening was a pair of gray eyes gazing back into her own.
When they got back to the hotel Sarah invited Westley into her room. It felt like the natural thing to do, just as it felt natural to turn to him and reach out her hand.
Westley wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. They stood like that for a while, savoring the warmth between them. Sarah ran her hands over him. She could feel the tension he carried in the muscles of his back and shoulders. His arms around her waist tightened. She lifted up her face and he bent his head to kiss her.
His lips were firm on hers, but they softened when she opened her mouth to his. Her hips arched against him as the kiss deepened and they explored each other. His hands caressed her back and moved down to pull her even closer.
Sarah felt a fluttering in her belly and a flowing heat that moved up to fill her breasts and down into her core. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy, their tips exquisitely sensitive where they rubbed against his chest.
When they finally broke the kiss and headed for the bed, Sarah wasn’t so swept away by passion that she forgot to hang her new clothes neatly over the back of a chair. She stood there before Westley, nude except for her high heels, enjoying the expression on his face as he looked at her.
She reached out and helped him off with his jacket. She walked to the closet, hips swaying in her high heels, and hung it up. His eyes watched her every step of the way. She turned to find that he had followed close behind her. They kissed again, briefly and hungrily. He grinned and handed her his tie. She unbuttoned his shirt, running her hands over his chest before taking it off and hanging it up as well.
When she turned back to him he’d tired of the game and was now as naked as she. He pulled her close for another kiss, making a sound low in his throat. She moved against him, feeling him hard against her belly. He pulled away slightly so he could cup her breasts in his hands and run his thumbs over her swollen nipples. He left a trail of kisses down her throat to her collarbone and she gasped softly. Then he took her hand and led her to the bed.
They lay down facing each other, looking into each other’s eyes. Westley ran his hand over the curve of Sarah’s waist and down over her hip and thigh; she wrapped her leg over him and pulled him on top of her.
He kissed and nibbled gently on the upper curve of her breasts before sucking on her nipples. Sarah felt her core start to pulse, sending waves of pleasure through her body. His kisses worked their way downward, until he reached her center. His hands caressed her thighs, spreading them apart so he could lick and suck at her most sensitive place.
Her legs spread wider and moved involuntarily against him.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered.
He moved up to align their bodies, pausing at her slick entrance until she whimpered, whereupon he worked his cock slowly into her all the way to the root. It didn’t take them long to find their rhythm, at first moving slowly together, speeding up almost to the point of release, then slowing again, drawing out their pleasure so they had time to kiss and taste and explore.
As one they decided it was time, and Westley picked up her thighs, spreading her legs wide so he could drive in deep and hard and fast. Sarah felt the waves of pleasure that had been flowing through her body concentrate in her center until her hips lost their rhythm, pushing up in a frenzy towards Westley, who was there to meet her.
For a moment before their orgasms they felt like they were floating together in infinite space, and then they came back down to earth, to a warm and peaceful place.
Westley kissed her one more time. They lay there for a while, luxuriating in the comfort of each other’s bodies. Sarah’s head fit perfectly into the hollow of Westley’s shoulder.
At five o’clock the next morning, Sarah awoke to the sound of snoring in her bed. It wasn’t a loud snore—more of a purr really. She watched Westley’s face, so unguarded in sleep, and was unable to repress a satisfied smile.
She felt warm and contented and relaxed in a way she hadn’t been in years. Something inside her had always been tensed and ready for the next crisis, but now it had let go. It wasn’t just the amazing sex. Somehow she trusted Westley. Not only that he wouldn’t hurt her, but that he wouldn’t look to her to solve his problems for him.
Westley could always take care of his own problems. She loved the intelligence that lived behind his eyes—observant, assessing, always one step ahead of everyone else.
Not right now though. Right now, soft purring snores issuing from his lips, the lines on his face smoothed in sleep, he was as carefree as he ever got.
She wanted to touch him. He needed his sleep; not everyone got up at the crack of dawn like she did.
She slithered out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, where she drew another luxurious bath. She didn’t like the city much, but she could get used to this.
She was searching for her clothes in the semi-dark when sh
e heard her name. Westley was propped up on one elbow, drowsily enjoying the view.
“Come back to bed,” he said.
She smiled and crawled into bed to snuggle against him once more.
Chapter 7
Sarah and Westley were back in Hannahs Branch. The trip back had seemed much shorter than the trip down, and they had spent most of it curled up in the seats of various vehicles, talking softly about any little thing that crossed their minds.
Karlee and Gabe were staying in Atlanta for a few days so they could wrap up Emily’s final business. They had smug smiles on their faces as they said goodbye to the new couple, and seemed in good spirits overall.
Sarah was glad to get home. Westley was staying with her while he investigated possible factory sites in the area (at least that was the story they were giving out). It was a good thing no one was around to care, since the first thing they did once they shut the door behind them was share a passionate kiss.
Westley had his hands on the buttons of her dress, but Sarah was forced to stop him. “Hold that thought.” She sighed. “We’ll be having visitors soon.”
“Did you call someone from the hotel to meet you here?”
“Oh, we don’t need none of that in Hannahs Branch. Would you be a dear and put our luggage in the bedroom with the door shut while I get things ready?”
Westley looked a little confused but didn’t argue. He took the opportunity to hang up his jacket and take off his tie. The house wasn’t air conditioned. It was actually quite comfortable, but too warm for a jacket.
The phone rang. Sarah sighed again and picked it up.
“Hello Sarah! You back from your trip?”
“Why yes, Patricia, I am.”
“That’s wonderful! I was just calling to tell you I’ve got a nice crop of eggplant—way too much for little old me, and I was wondering if you’d like me to come around and bring you some?”
“That would be lovely, Patricia. I’ll see you in a few.”
This conversation was repeated, with small variations (blueberries, cucumbers, sweet corn, and peppers), a total of five times. Sarah figured she was at least getting a good lot of fresh food out of the deal. She smiled at Westley, who smiled back.
“Clayton wasn’t kidding, was he?”
“Who’s Clayton?”
“He’s my driver back in New York. He told me about small town grapevines, but I thought he was exaggerating.”
“It would be a hard thing to exaggerate. They’ve had a few days to get worked up—we could tell them you’re a big Hollywood movie producer and you want me to star in your next blockbuster, what do you think?”
Westley laughed. Sarah grinned at him. “You think I’m joking but I’m not. I’m sure that’s one of the stories going round about us.” She snickered. “There’s probably another one where you’re an organized crime boss who’s abducted me to be his sex slave. People here have a lot of time on their hands and not much to entertain them.”
Westley toyed with the top button of her dress. “Yes, my proud beauty,” he said, a low growl in his deep voice, “it will be my pleasure to break you to my will.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her cheek, “and introduce you to pleasures that will degrade your soul and leave you screaming for more.”
“Promise?” Sarah was having hard time catching her breath, and really wished the top gossips of Hannahs Branch were not about to descend on them en masse at any moment.
The phone rang again, which was just as well, Sarah thought.
“Hey Gramma, Mama says to bring you these brownies and muffins she baked.”
“Thank you, Fenton dear. I’ll see you shortly.”
Sarah looked up at Westley. “My grandson. I really do need to get ready. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you some iced tea?” She kissed him on the corner of his mouth and disappeared into the kitchen.
Westley sat down and looked around the room. He liked it—it was very clean and simply decorated with genuine wood furniture. You could tell the place had a history. Generations had lived and raised their children there, and it was as if their vitality had soaked into the walls.
Westley was intrigued by the painting on the opposite wall—a depiction of a man in a garden. The execution was crude, but the massing of color spoke of a talent he hoped the painter had gone on to cultivate.
“That’s my Charles. Fenton painted it when he was about eight years old.” Sarah had come back carrying a tray with several glasses, an ice bucket, and a pitcher of tea. “Charlie passed away more than ten years ago.”
“My wife Sophia died more than fifteen years ago.” Westley was surprised when he said it. It still hurt, but the hurt felt farther away. Older.
Sarah sat down beside him and he put his arm around her. She laid her head on his shoulder and they sat like that until the doorbell rang.
“Fenton dear, tell your mama thank you for the goodies. We’re going to need them. Come in, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
Fenton had dark blond hair and looked to be in his late teens. He was wearing knee-length blue-jean cutoffs and a faded black t-shirt with the legend JOSH ROBERTS AND THE HINGES.
“Westley, this is my grandson Fenton. Fenton, my friend Westley Braxton.”
Westley stood up and extended his hand. The kid’s hand was marked with hard calluses and he had a good strong grip.
“That like Braxton Industries?” Fenton asked.
“The same.” Westley replied. “It’s my company. I still have a controlling interest, although I do have to consult with a board of directors.”
Sarah touched his arm. “Probably best to save it until they all get here. Then you’ll only have to say it once.”
The doorbell rang again. And again. And again. Patricia, Misty, Gwen, Irma, and Earl walked in the door in quick succession. They handed off their gifts to Fenton without looking at him, like quarterbacks stealth-passing a football, and headed straight for the living room, where they sat down and goggled at Westley.
Several people hadn’t bothered to call and just showed up. Fenton was quickly surrounded by a knot of giggling tween girls, whom he treated with surprising patience. One in particular—a brown-haired girl wearing lipgloss with an air of hopeful sophistication—seemed to have a huge crush on him. She’d have to wait a few years for that dream to have any chance of becoming reality.
The small house was rapidly filling with people, so Sarah deputized the children to fetch the folding tables and chairs out of the shed and set them up in the yard. She nodded to Westley, who was relieved to abandon his efforts at small talk with the Terrible Five and follow her outside.
All the guests trooped out into the yard, where the gathering rapidly turned festive. Luckily some of the neighbors had brought extra drinks and snacks.
Westley’s rented Mercedes turned out to be as big of an attraction for the boys as Fenton was for the girls. Fenton responded to Westley’s imploring look and gathered up the kids to play touch football at the other end of the yard. The giggler-in-chief appointed herself referee.
Sarah rang a spoon against her iced-tea glass. “Listen up, everybody, this is Westley Braxton of Braxton Industries, who has an announcement to make.”
Earl raised his hand, “Are you from Hollywood?”
“No, Earl. I have nothing to do with the movie business,” Westley said. “Braxton Industries makes batteries and fuel cells; we are also moving into the clean energy sector.” Westley climbed the few steps to the porch to stand where everyone could see him.
“I’m here in Hannahs Branch to investigate whether this is a suitable location to build one of our fuel cell plants.”
Everyone started talking at once. Westley took a sip of his tea and waited for them to settle down.
One of the men raised his hand. “Will you be hiring local people?”
“Of course,” Westley said. “As much as we can. Many of the factory positions will require highly specialized training,
but, as much as possible, we will be hiring locally.”
Someone else raised her hand, “When will you start building it?”
“I’m just looking for suitable sites right now. I’ll need my board of director’s agreement, but they have no reason not to follow my recommendations. There’s a lot of paperwork involved—due diligence reports and so on; an environmental impact statement will also be required.”
“I’m glad you mentioned an environmental impact statement,” said a young woman whose great mass of blond hair glowed in the sunlight. “What do you plan on doing with the waste you produce?”
“Our process minimizes the production of harmful by-products, and we’ll recycle where we can. Anything else will be disposed of in accordance with proper regulations.”
“Eastern North Carolina is one of the most ecologically diverse places on the planet, you know. Most of the habitat is already gone.”
“As a matter of fact I did not, um, did not know that, but you can rest assured that we will do what is necessary to protect the environment.”
Sarah stepped in to stop the grilling process. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, folks. Westley hasn’t even met with Bob yet. We just got back from a funeral, so please leave us in peace for a few days. You will be informed once there’s something solid to tell y’all.” She looked at Westley.
“Yes, of course,” Westley said.
“So in the meantime,” Sarah continued, “please let us get on with things. If you have any suggestions for factory sites you can drop them off at Bob’s office.”
That seemed to do the trick. Most of the visitors had satisfied their curiosity and it was getting dark. Besides, the food was gone. Many of the townsfolk wandered up to shake Westley’s hand and thank Sarah for the impromptu party.
Fenton corralled the young people and got them to put the chairs and tables away before they went home. Sarah hugged him, “You’re a treasure, dear.”
“Mama says she’ll come to visit when she has the time.”
“We look forward to it,” Sarah said.
