In other words, this was my first indication of how small of a town Magdalene really was.
“Alyssa,” the other blonde murmured. She was just as pretty, but in a more refined way (in fact, her outfit didn’t seem Maine at all, but instead Paris in wintertime), her eyes blue to the other blonde’s brown.
“You are, yeah?” the other one, Alyssa, pressed me.
“I . . . um . . .” I mumbled.
“Finally!” she cried. “It’s high time that hot hunk of lusciousness got his hands on a fiery one. Need to know that story, babelicious. I’m the woman behind Maude’s House of Beauty. Half-price mani-pedi you come in and spill all. And to sweeten that pot, I’m talkin’ gel mani. Not stuff that’ll chip off in two days. Make it late afternoon, then we’ll all go out and get drinks.”
“Erm, we?” I asked.
She jerked a thumb to the blonde with her. “Me, Josie here and our other girl, Amelia. She’s got some man problems right about now too. Me and Josie’ll be cool that we’re livin’ the dream with our fellas, though, while we help you sort yourselves out.”
I found myself sharing, “I think my situation has sorted itself out.”
Her face fell.
Her friend Josie’s brightened.
“So you aren’t givin’ Coert a run for his money,” Alyssa muttered.
And for some reason, I kept sharing. “It took us nearly two decades to get sorted out.”
That was when Alyssa’s face brightened but Josie’s grew distressed.
“Brilliant!” Alyssa cried. “It’ll be a three martini night for sure.” She pointed at me. “Maude’s. After Christmas. Now I gotta get my ass home ’cause I got seven thousand presents to wrap. Laterzzzzz.”
And on that she sashayed out the door.
Josie got close. “Alyssa is . . .” she smiled a small smile, “Alyssa. Big heart. Big mouth. Big everything. She’s a love and what she’s trying to say is, we’d like to welcome you to Magdalene. So I hope you call and make an appointment.”
Brash but sweet.
Soft-spoken and also sweet.
I made a decision. “I guess . . . I will.”
She smiled and offered a hand. “I’m Josie Spear.”
I took her hand. “Cady Moreland.”
“Lovely to meet you,” she murmured as she squeezed my hand and let go. “We’ll speak soon. Have a Merry Christmas.”
“You too.”
She touched my arm briefly then followed her friend.
In Magdalene I had Jackie and Amanda, but Amanda didn’t live close so we saw each other, but not that much.
Now I had Coert.
And with Coert (eventually) would come Janie.
But a girl needed her girls and as wild as what just happened was, it felt nice to have some strangers walk up to me and essentially offer to be my girls.
“Do I need this?” Kath shouted from across the store.
I looked her way to see her holding up a deep-purple ladle that she absolutely did not need.
“It’s Christmas and you’re buying stuff for yourself?” Pam shouted from her place across the store in the other direction.
“Pat won’t think to buy me a purple ladle,” Kath shouted back.
“I hope not,” Shannon put in.
Verity walked up to her mother, took the ladle from her hand and moved to the cash register, saying, “Merry Christmas, Mom.”
Kath beamed.
As hilarious and sweet as my family was being, I tried not to scream at them to hurry up.
In the end, we got out, to the grocery store, home and I had to make three pies, two to leave for the family.
One for Coert and Janie (and maybe Kim).
So now I was on my way to Coert’s and I had a variety of things cluttering my head.
One, I was on my way to Coert’s and I was fiercely curious about where he lived. I had the address he’d texted me programmed in my sat nav (at the same time he thoughtfully invited Midnight to come along and I was glad, I’d been worried, since I’d had her we barely spent any time apart).
But I’d had the address before. It was in the investigator’s reports.
I’d just never tortured myself and gone.
I also had Mike’s parting shot to me in my head, this being him pulling me aside after I’d said my farewells but before I got out the door.
“Tell that guy he’s coming for Christmas dinner.”
I really needed to get Mike past referring to Coert as “that guy.”
However, right then was not the time to do it.
“Mike, he has his daughter.”
“She’ll be in your family, our family, a family you want us to let him be a part of, so she should meet our family too.”
“It’s too soon,” I told him, because it was and I had to admit to being a little miffed because he had to know that too.
“She won’t know what’s going on. She’s five. She’ll just know there’s family and love around.”
“And she’ll also know you’re giving her father the stink eye,” I retorted.
Mike had no reply.
Which meant there’d be stink eye and I was going to have none of that.
“You agree to be fair and give him a shot, I’ll broach this with Coert,” I offered. “If you don’t, Mike, then you’ll meet Coert before you go home but when he’s ready to do that, and you’ll meet Janie when he makes the decision that time is right because I haven’t even met her yet, officially, so he may not think that time is right.”
“Showing her how much people love you and how much you love your family is the perfect time, Cady,” he’d returned. “But I’ll make you that deal.”
On that, me, Midnight and the pie moved out, got in my car and I texted Coert I was on my way.
But now I was not only thinking I shouldn’t have made that deal, I was thinking I shouldn’t have told a perfect stranger in a kitchen shop that it had taken Coert and I nearly two decades to sort ourselves out. They both obviously knew him. He was the sheriff. I didn’t need to be offering up gossip for the gristmill.
In other words, no matter what, I was going to make this trek to his house nervous as hell.
But by the time I reached his block I was making it nervous as hell.
Those nerves flew away when I counted house numbers and finally caught sight of Coert’s house.
I’d never allowed myself to imagine us together again and I’d also never allowed my mind to go other places, especially not after I’d learned he’d had a daughter.
And one of those places was never allowing myself to think about where he might live, the home he’d give his daughter.
But seeing a house that looked like a farmhouse, painted yellow with white trim, huge trees in the front, lots of paned windows, a red-framed door fit mostly with paned glass, steep gables in the second story, all this tufted with the snow we’d been getting, took my breath away.
However, it was more.
There were candles in all the windows. White Christmas lights on two small pine trees beside his front steps, their illumination muted by snow. A thick pine wreath with a red bow on the door. Two red rocking chairs on a front porch that was recessed from the façade of the house.
Like most of his block, he decorated for Christmas and he did it gracefully, cheerful but not garish; handsome and subtle.
The odd thing out, prominent in one of the windows, even proud, was a big Christmas tree lit with multi-colored lights, shining behind the white lit candles in the window, incongruous with the rest that seemed planned and executed so perfectly.
He probably did all of this for his daughter, but the fact he did it at all stunned me in a way that thrilled me.
But that wasn’t it.
The two lights on the outside of his house were lit bright, beating back the dark night, the lighting in the recessed porch lit too.
A beacon for me.
He didn’t want me to miss his house.
He wanted me to come ho
me.
And I knew this was true when I made the turn into his drive at the side and did it while one of his garage doors was going up.
I’d texted I was on my way and he’d been watching for me.
I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to shout with glee.
But I didn’t do this.
I guided my car into the garage by a miracle, doing it staring at the tall frame silhouetted with light coming from behind as it stood framed by the inside door.
I parked, turned the car off and heard the garage door going right back down as I watched Coert step into the garage and come toward me.
He passed my door and I knew why, so I made sure the locks were unlocked as he opened the back passenger door to let Midnight out.
I took that opportunity to turn and grab the pie. I would have to go around to get my bag that Kath had advised I pack, doing this stating, “It’s been a long time for me but not a century and I’m thinking you need to be with the program from the start. So here it is from memory of a boyfriend sleepover. Nightie. Clean panties. In this weather, slippers or thick socks and maybe a cardigan or robe. Cleanser and moisturizer and a toothbrush. At least.”
So I didn’t just have my purse.
I had an overnight bag I hoped communicated the right things.
When Coert opened my door, I twisted with the pie but had to stop because he was in my door, blocking me.
I looked to his face to see his eyes aimed at the pie carrier.
“Coert—” I started to greet (as well as ask him to get out of my way because it was cold and I wanted my dog and I to get indoors, but after seeing the outside, I also was dying to see the inside).
I spoke no more and not only because he interrupted me by whispering, “Pie.”
Suddenly I was a nervous wreck again, wondering if I should have reminded Coert of something we’d had, something that was sweet, but it was also a reminder of what had come in between.
I didn’t get to wonder long because half a second later, the pie was not in my hands, though one of my hands had been captured by Coert’s and I was being pulled out of my Jag.
I just had enough time to slam the door before Coert was dragging me toward the door of his house, Midnight moving excitedly alongside us.
We were through the garage and in a laundry room that was relatively spacious but a complete disaster with shopping bags and rolls of Christmas wrap and not one, not two, but three hampers of laundry, men’s clothes intermingled with little girl’s.
I had no time to experience what a treasure it was to have that first look into Coert’s everyday life, a life he shared with his daughter, that first look being an actual first look since I’d never even had that before, considering when we were together he’d all but moved in to his friend Casey’s with me, because I was in a kitchen.
I saw it was dark and masculine, various gleaming woods, open shelves, iron mesh fronted cupboards, pounded iron over a big stove, when I was stopped in front of a stainless steel fridge.
“This need refrigerating?”
I was thinking about wood, laundry, little-girl tights, the bag I’d left in my car, the fact Coert had a glass trifle bowl filled with oranges on his kitchen island.
In other words I wasn’t following.
“Sorry?” I whispered.
“The pie, Cady. Does it need refrigerating?”
“It’s . . . um, for you. And Janie. And Kim. For tomorrow night, if you want to take it with you. It’s a butterbeer pie. I don’t know if Janie’s old enough for Harry Potter but I thought—”
I emitted a small cry when my arm was yanked and I went flying, slamming into Coert’s front.
I looked up at him to see his chin in his neck looking down at me, holding the pie to the side.
“Does this pie . . . need . . . refrigerating?” he growled.
“Yes,” I breathed staring up into his eyes.
Heated eyes.
Oh my.
He let me go long enough to open the fridge, shove the pie in among a lot of other stuff, and close the fridge.
Then my purse was taken from me, tossed to the island, he had my hand in his and he was tugging me.
I was looking around, not taking much in, but I glimpsed the Christmas tree in the living room across the hall, which from that close looked even less like the subtle holiday décor on the outside of the house.
It was bright and jolly and lively and playful.
That was all I took in before I was dragged up some stairs.
Midnight followed us.
Coert turned right at the top, and as I was attached to him, I went with him.
We entered a room that was also masculine. Painted a dark, coastal blue, it was dominated by a huge bed.
And that was all I could take in before I was twirled around with my back to that bed and my knit cap was torn from my head.
I felt my hair flying (and frizzing) but all I did was stare up at Coert.
My gloves were pulled off and thrown to the side. Then my jacket tugged down my arms.
Once that fell to my feet, Coert took a step away and ripped his sweater off his body.
I stopped breathing.
My sweater went next with Coert taking it.
I started panting.
Coert put his hands under my arms, lifted me straight up and then he was on me in his bed.
On me.
And all over me.
So I took that as my invitation to attempt to be all over him.
He’d wanted us to slow down the second time last night, a goal he did not achieve.
He didn’t achieve it this time either.
The only difference between the three was that the last two times I got my opportunities to have the top, to take what I wanted.
But this time, even when I tried to roll him over, Coert kept me pinned to my back and he took from me.
And took.
And took.
His hands. His mouth. His lips. His tongue. His teeth.
It was glorious.
He’d divested me of my bra, and I was arching a nipple into his mouth and moaning when I lost that mouth because I lost Coert completely.
When I’d opened my eyes and searched dazedly for where he’d gone, my search wasn’t long.
He was beside the bed, tearing down his jeans.
Shakily, my hands went to the belt on mine.
I got it undone and was working on the fly when he lifted a leg and yanked off one of my boots.
The other one.
My socks.
Then latching onto the hems, he hauled off my jeans.
And when he did, the denim scored a path of fire down my legs that chased right back up between them.
Oh my.
I whimpered.
He bent over me to tug my panties down my legs.
He was naked above me, tall, lean, beautiful.
I was naked on his bed and I knew by the darkness in his face he liked what he was seeing.
He tore his eyes away from me, opened the drawer to his nightstand and then treated me to something I never would imagine would be so sexy to watch that it was excruciating.
That being watching him roll a condom on his cock.
My mouth watered as between my legs grew even wetter and I nearly came out of the bed to get to him.
I didn’t get a chance because Coert surged over me, kicking my legs open with his knee.
He settled between them and stared at my face as I felt his hand go between us.
And then I was squirming, looking into his eyes, feeling him rub the head of his cock hard against my clit.
Simply amazing.
“Coert,” I breathed.
He rubbed harder.
“Coert,” I begged, lifting up my knees, rounding him with my arms, pressing down on his cock.
He slipped it down, and then as fast as it had all gone, he slid inside and he did it just that slowly.
I felt my lips part, my scalp tingle, my s
tomach drop, my arms tighten and my pussy convulse as he filled me.
He hooked a hand behind one of my raised, bent knees and gripped tight as his gaze imprisoned mine and he started thrusting inside me.
I locked my thighs against his sides and held on, mewing then gasping.
His other hand slid over my belly, down, his finger hit my clit and started fluttering.
And right then I felt it rise inside me.
I pushed it away.
It pushed back.
Staring into Coert’s eyes as he kept driving inside, his finger making miracles, my hands slid up his spine to hold on to his hair, and I again pushed it back.
It threatened to consume me.
I started panting.
Coert broke eye contact to slide his temple down mine and say in my ear, “Please, baby, give that to me.”
And I let go.
Turning my head to shove my face in his neck, my fists tightened in his hair, my legs convulsed against his sides, and just like the two times the night before, my orgasm engulfed me, blistering through my body, sweeping me away into nothing.
Nothing, that was, except a world where there was a Coert and me.
Vaguely, I felt his finger at my clit go away as I heard his grunts turn into altogether different noises, the driving force behind his thrusts growing more powerful but uncontrolled and I shivered anew knowing he was coming with me.
Together we flew and together we drifted down to earth, to his bed, his room, this world, this life.
Ending still with a Coert and me.
Yes, it was glorious.
It was as I felt his breath turn steady on my neck that it occurred to me that, outside of kissing him back, doing a lot of squirming, moaning, holding on and some touching, he’d given me that and I’d given him nothing in return.
“I just held on,” I whispered.
“What?” he murmured against my neck.
I realized my fingers were still tight in his hair and that probably didn’t feel great so I let him go instantly, suddenly mortified.
“Cady?”
I slid my eyes to him to see he’d lifted his head and was looking down at me.
And I sounded just as mortified as I was when I announced, “I just held on. You did all the work. You gave me all that and I didn’t give you anything.”
The Time in Between Page 30