The Time in Between

by Kristen Ashley

  “And can I ask who rezoned that land?” I requested tersely.

  “It was a county referendum.”

  “Written by who?” I pressed.

  “Does it matter?” she shot back.

  “I gazumped him.”

  “I’m sorry?” she asked irately.

  “It’s a British term I heard while over there that I liked very much so I remembered it,” I shared curtly. “In other words, he was planning to buy the property, planning this all along, and I got in and offered, was accepted and I got the property, thus gazumping him.”

  “Mr. Colley made it clear that the family was resistant to Mr. Stone’s offers, which was not acting in the best interests of the family.” This was said threateningly.

  The family being “resistant” to his offers meant he’d lowballed them lower than I had.

  And Robert knew about this, made some move to stop it, but he didn’t tell me about it.

  That didn’t matter. It wasn’t necessary I knew and I wished I still didn’t know.

  But now, the lighthouse was mine.

  End of story.

  I looked to the bakery case that was next to the deli and announced, “I have absolutely no interest in selling.”

  “Mr. Stone is annoyed that his offer will have to be considerably more than it would have been if Mr. Colley hadn’t intervened but he’s quite intent on—”

  I interrupted her. “It doesn’t matter what he’s quite intent on. I own that property. There’s no lien on it. No mortgage. The deed is in my name, free and clear. And I have no interest in selling nor will I. And I’ll be discussing with the Historical Society and Magdalene’s City Council how to rezone that land so it’s where it should be.”

  “Ms. Moreland—”

  “Good day, and please, tell Mr. Stone and all of his minions to cease calling me. If I hear from you again, I’ll make a record of how often this has happened and then I’ll share with the sheriff I’m being harassed.”

  “I’m sure Sheriff Yeager will take that very seriously,” she stated snidely.

  She knew about Coert and me.

  Not a surprise. We’d been somewhat out there, what with me shouting at him on the sidewalk and all.

  But the way she said that was galling.

  I looked back at Coert and retorted, “I’m absolutely certain of it. Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, which, by the way, is not the day to make such calls. But fortunately, this particular one is over.”

  And with that, I took the phone from my ear and disconnected.

  “What the hell?” Coert asked.

  “Some man named Boston Stone wants to buy the lighthouse and make it a restaurant,” I answered.

  His mouth got tight in a way that was as scary as it was sexy before he bit out, “Stone.”

  “Do you know him?” I queried.

  “Yeah. Pure dick.”

  “Sheriff! Your sandwiches are ready,” the deli lady called.

  Coert grabbed my hand and drew me to the counter.

  “Thanks, Shirl,” he murmured, reaching out to take the bag.

  “Shirl” smiled at him, gave me an assessing look, and I barely was able to force a smile at her before Coert dragged me to the cash register.

  “Tell me,” he ordered when we were standing in line.

  Even though he heard most of it from my side of the conversation, I told him in fits and spurts as we waited in line and as he paid, having to stop repeatedly for him to return a hello or dip his chin at somebody.

  It was nice to see he was so popular.

  But frustrating when you had an irritating (or perhaps any) story to tell.

  We were on the street and walking (hand in hand, I’ll add) toward the station when I was finished.

  “Wondered why that bunch pushed for the rezoning,” he murmured like he was talking to himself. “And it wasn’t popular. It barely passed.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter now. Though I’m going to share with Jackie about it. But the fact remains that it’s mine and he could offer me fifty million dollars and I’d not sell it.”

  That made Coert stop us both dead and he looked down at me.

  “Seriously?” he asked, and the expression on his face concerned me.

  “I . . . yes,” I replied haltingly, trying to understand that expression.

  “You love it that much?”

  Slowly, I looked to the horizon where the lighthouse lay, white against a backdrop of snow and sea, its black trim, red roofs and Christmas decorations could be seen all the way from there, and back to him.

  “Coert, look at it. Can you imagine if that view changed and how it could change if someone got hold of it who just wants to make money off that land?”

  He didn’t look at it.

  He didn’t look away from me.

  “That would suck and he’s not gonna offer that high, Cady, but the man’s got money and if he’s determined to do something, he isn’t easily shaken. So say he goes high, you’d say no?”

  I shook my head but replied, “Each one of the kids say they want to live there when they grow up. Kath joked she wanted to talk Pat into retiring there when she was here this summer, but she told me just the other day that now that Pat has seen it, he was thinking the same thing. They love the place. They love the studio. And it was also a joke, but they called dibs on it during dinner one night. When they did, Mike looked ticked. So now it’s a family place. But it’s always only been a lighthouse. For over two hundred years. So no. If my family isn’t interested should I need to let it go, I’d find another family. Not a developer. Never a developer. And to make that a certainty, it needs new riders written into the deed and perhaps the land around it zoned back to where it’s supposed to be.”

  “So you just want to keep it as it is,” Coert said.

  “Yes. I mean, someone may want to redecorate it one day. I’m not going to go that crazy. But . . . yes. Keep it as it is.”

  Coert seemed extremely relieved. So much so, it worried me.

  “Coert?”

  He started us moving again and replied, “During sandwiches. They’re hot and they’ll get cold if we stand outside much longer. Meet the guys quick, we’ll eat them and talk in my office.”

  Now I had my mind on all of this as he took me to the station.

  The hot sandwiches weren’t only in answer to the cold outside.

  It was an indication of how sweet Coert was.

  He had hot sandwiches in a bag held in his hand. It was lunchtime. They were men. They got all that in a big way. And thus the round of introductions was short, not prolonged, and relatively easy for me (not that they’d be anything else, all his men seemed very polite, respectful but familiar and friendly with Coert, respectful and friendly to me, but it was kind of Coert to maneuver it so there was no opportunity to put me under a microscope).

  When we hit his office, he drew me to a chair and let me go so I sat in it, taking off my jacket and scarf.

  He grabbed two cans of Fresca from a mini-fridge in his office (he still drank Fresca, we were both Fresca lovers back in the day, and this knowledge calmed me) and handed one to me. He shrugged off his jacket, but not his scarf, and sat beside me rather than behind his big wooden desk as he pulled out the sandwiches and two bags of kettle-cooked chips.

  I waited until he’d peeled back the foil and paper and taken his first bite before I asked, “What was that on the sidewalk?”

  Then I took my first bite.

  Sliced prime rib with melted Swiss cheese, horseradish sauce and crispy onions.

  It was divine.

  And it was from Wayfarer’s.

  So it was even more divine.

  “I’m not sure we should get into this now,” he replied after he swallowed.

  “I think from the look on your face outside, honey, that we need to get into this now,” I returned cautiously.

  He held his sandwich (it looked like shaved ham and cheese) in front of him with elbows on his spread knees but
his eyes were on mine.

  “I got a kid,” he said carefully.

  I smiled at him. “I know.”

  “I now got a woman. The only one I ever wanted.”

  My heart warmed and my smile remained in place. “I know.”

  “And someday, that day being very soon, if I can manage it without messin’ up my kid or the solid ground I’m forming in raising her with her mom, my two girls, every other week, are gonna live together. But for me, every day, I’m gonna wake up next to my woman.”

  I nodded.

  This was what I too thought was the unspoken but mutually agreed plan.

  “Baby, we can’t do that at the lighthouse.”

  My brows drew together. “I know.”

  He stared at me.

  “When that happens, I’ll rent the lighthouse,” I shared. “I want it to be lived in, not let like a B and B or something. Find someone decent who loves it and wants to stay for a while. Elijah might want it and then he can move over when I leave and we’ll rent the space over the garage. The studio can be rented like a B and B if the tenants in the lighthouse and garage are all right with that. Or it can be left open for when my family, or your family, come to visit for somewhere nice for them to stay.”

  “You’re okay movin’ in with me?” he asked like that shocked him.

  But I couldn’t imagine how it would shock him.

  “I like having sex with you, Coert, and that can’t happen if we convert the family room into Janie’s bedroom. The stairs are open and we’ll be right on top of her. But the only full bath is off the master bedroom and that simply won’t work. And the studio is far too small. Last, we can’t build on lighthouse land because, well . . . I think we went over that already. So unless you want to move to a new house altogether, which seems unnecessary to me since your house is fabulous, then that’s the only option.”

  He grinned his crooked grin and it was the first time I’d seen it since back in Denver, before it all blew up, before it all went bad, and for a second my mind blanked of everything but that boyish grin on his handsome, manly face.

  Then he scooted his chair forward with his boots without leaning back, which was somehow cute and sexy, and he kept scooting until one of our knees touched, and I came back into the room.

  “I know you love it, baby, so I was worried about takin’ you from there.”

  I was finding my Coert was a worrier. Especially when it came to me.

  That was cute and sweet.

  I leaned into my elbows on my knees with my sandwich in front of me too, just to get closer.

  “That’s sweet, Coert, but it isn’t going anywhere and it’s still mine. Maybe one day when Janie’s gone to college or something, we can move back. We can talk about it then. But that’s a long way away.”

  He pressed his knee against mine and the relieved look on his face changed to something so intense, it frightened me.

  “Not for now, I’m just gonna say it now because you have to think about it and start doing that right away. We both have to think about where we are. What we want. Where we’re goin’. And if you aren’t where I am on this, I’m good with that, Cady. If you take anything from this discussion, I need you to take that. I got what I want when I got you back and I’m happier than I’ve been my entire life. Even havin’ Janie. Love her but there was shit makin’ that not all it could have been. So now I’m right where I want to be. But I still need to put this out there because you need to think on it. And what I need to put out there is that I want you to consider having my baby.”

  I wasn’t moving.

  Still, I froze solid.

  “Not for now,” he said quickly. “You don’t have to give me an answer right now. But think about that. And we’ll talk—”

  “I want your baby.”

  It was then Coert, also not moving, also still froze.

  “I’ve always wanted that,” I whispered.

  His voice sounded funny, thicker, when he reminded me, “We’re not young.”

  “I don’t care,” I stated firmly.

  There was a fire in his eyes but his lips said, “That means fast, Cady. Move in fast. Get married fast. Get pregnant fast.”

  “I’ll make an appointment with a gynecologist next week.”

  He closed his eyes. He did this slowly. And something moved over his face that was so terrible and so beautiful in equal measure, it was difficult to witness.

  But I still knew every day for the rest of my life I’d remember the beautiful part of it.

  He opened his eyes. “A little girl with your green eyes.”

  “A little boy with your hazel eyes.”

  “Gotta have more of your green.”

  More of your green.

  My nose started stinging.

  “Oh no, I’m going to cry into my prime rib.”

  He tossed his sandwich on the Wayfarer’s bag, took mine and did the same.

  Then he had my head in both hands and his mouth on mine while we sat in chairs in front of his desk, our knees pressing into each other’s so hard, it hurt.

  I didn’t care.

  I loved that kiss.

  I’d had a lot of beautiful kisses (all from Coert).

  But that was the best.

  By far.

  When his mouth left mine, he stayed in my space and his thumbs swept in to rub through the wet under my eyes that had spilled over, even with the kiss.

  “Doctor would be good,” he whispered. “Get a sense of how much time we have so we can plan how we make this easy on Janie.”

  I nodded with my head in his hands.

  Coert pressed his forehead to mine. “Right now, with her, in my office.”

  Fresh tears fell over.

  And my throat was clogged when I replied, “Right now, with him, in his office.”

  His thumbs moved through my tears and I let them flow freely.

  Coert held my gaze as I did.

  I got myself together and he pulled me forward for a touch of lips before his thumbs swept my skin one last time and he let me go.

  He moved away, only slightly, and grabbed my sandwich.

  He handed it to me.

  I took it.

  He grabbed his own.

  “So, baby, you been to England?” he murmured.

  I grinned at him

  Then I answered.

  And Coert and I ate lunch in his office.

  I had both legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs, one hand trailing along the skin of his back, one hand with fingers in his hair.

  Coert had one leg hitched, one hand curled around the back of my neck, one arm wrapped around my waist.

  We were going slow.

  He kissed me as he moved inside me.

  I kissed him back.

  He lifted his head away and stared in my eyes as he moved inside me.

  I stared back.

  “Love you,” he whispered.

  “Love you too,” I whispered back.

  He went faster.

  I held on tighter.

  He kissed me harder.

  I kissed him deeper.

  He ended the kiss and dipped his head. I felt his tongue pressing the diamond at the dent in the base of my throat into my skin.

  I shivered and fisted my hand in his hair, raking my nails up his back.

  His mouth recaptured mine and he started pounding into me, his thrusts smooth yet rough, his tongue in my mouth giving and seizing.

  His cock hit somewhere deep inside of me, Coert hit somewhere deep inside of me, and I broke our kiss, whimpering, “Coert.”

  “Cady.”

  I was there.

  My neck arched and my mouth opened but no sound came out as the blinding orgasm throbbed higher every time the base of his cock hit my clit, his shaft slammed into me.

  His hand at the back of my neck shifted up, cupping the back of my head, righting it so he could again take my mouth.

  He sucked my orgasm deep inside as he sucked my tongue in hi
s mouth, and my climax throbbed higher again just as he released my tongue and his grunt pulsed down my throat chased by his groan that soothed it.

  My orgasm slid away from me and when it did I found myself still kissing Coert, my fingers drifting through his hair, my other arm and legs holding him close as he slowed it down, stroking in and out, in and out until he connected us and stayed there.

  Only then did his lips trail to my ear, down to my neck where he kissed me there and remained.

  “That’s how I wanna make her,” he said softly.

  My eyes floated closed, the sides of my lips coasted up and my hold on him got tighter.

  It took nearly two decades.

  But it was good to know way back when that God listened to me.

  “Then that’s how we’ll make him,” I replied.

  I felt his smile against my neck.

  We laid that way for a long time, content, silent, before I started losing Coert.

  He pulled fully out then he shifted us both out of his bed.

  Coert dealt with the condom.

  I put on panties and a nightie.

  We did what we had to do and I went back to bed.

  Coert walked the house and then he joined me.

  After he did, sensing the intimacy was done, Midnight joined us.

  And then I experienced another version of paradise.

  In his arms, I fell asleep.

  Like You and Daddy

  Cady

  Present day . . .

  “UNCLE JAKE!” JANIE SCREECHED, AND then twisted on her booty in her seat at the grease-stained picnic table that was one of three we were taking up at Tinker’s burger joint.

  She jumped to her feet and rushed around the table.

  I watched her go, turning to look behind me to where she was heading, feeling Coert sitting beside me, do the same.

  And when I saw Janie make it to a tall, black-haired, very built man who was bending to her before she arrived at him, a large smile curved into his extremely handsome face, I stilled.

  I’d met Coert Yeager at age twenty-three.

  And he’d ruined me for all other men in all ways.