Probably Me [Davis Hollow, Davis Ranch 3] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by JQ Jones

  “What’s the biggest car you have, miss?” He said. There was a faint smile of obvious appreciation on his face. The blonde, no more than twenty, almost giggled.

  “We’ve got a Lincoln, a Hummer, and a limo. The Hummer and the limo the families around here rent for prom,” she said after she tapped in a few keystrokes on her computer.

  “We’ll take the Lincoln. Can you recommend a good hotel for an overnight stay?”

  “I’d go to the Chestnut. I’ll map it out for you. They’re not along the highway so they’re quieter and the staff is way friendly. Besides, it’s my cousins, and my grandma would have a fit if it got out that they were anything less than immaculate,” she said. “I’ll call ahead and tell them to have a room ready for you.”

  “Thank you so much for your help. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Clint leaned over the counter to read her nametag. “Ashley.”

  “See you then, Mr. Davis,” Ashley said.

  “Are you trying to get on my nerves? I could see her nametag from where I was standing so the whole lean-over-counter thing was total overkill. For a man who’s supposed to be celibate you sure do flirt like a champion,” Nora said.

  “You know better than anybody that I’m anything but, so don’t bring it up anymore. What time is your meeting?” He used the GPS to guide the car onto the county road that led to the hotel.

  “It’s at 4:30 so we have plenty of time,” Nora said. She worried the cuticle of her right thumb until they reached the hotel. It was a huge Victorian mansion with gables and torrents. The woman at the desk, an older version of Ashley, checked them into a huge master suite at the top of a grand set of stairs.

  “This was built by a railroad baron during the turn of the last century. He never used it because his wife hated it. My family has owned it since the sixties. It would have been a shame to let this old beauty go just because of a fickle woman,” she said. The suite overlooked a pool and faced the distant mountains. “We get a lot of people who drive down from the city to see the fall colors so this is almost the start of our fall winter season. But right now we’re slow. Let me know if you need anything.”

  After they thanked Mrs. Velder, Nora dumped her bag on the queen-sized bed and rummaged through it until she came up with a pair of clean jeans, a V-necked black T-shirt that she paired with a slick black leather jacket. She laid out the last item, a pair of black knee-high boots before she disappeared into the bathroom. She came out after twenty minutes looking like a badass biker fairy.

  “I did notice that there was no underwear of any kind in your bag,” Clint said. He left the door open so that she could talk to him while he shaved.

  “I wear underwear when I go to church. The last time I went was when I was seven. I wear panties faithfully when I’m on my cycle but other than that, why bother?” she said. She paced between the bathroom and the window. She jumped when Clint finished shaving and stopped her in mid circuit as he came out of the bathroom.

  “You’re way too edgy. Tell me about the people we’re meeting right now.”

  “We’re going to Mr. Carlevaros’ turkey farm. The family has thousands of turkeys so watch where you step. I wouldn’t wear the suit, the black jeans and sweater would work better. The temperature drops so it won’t be too hot. The family is well connected, based out of Philadelphia, but Dad said that Mr. Carlevaros doesn’t have the stomach for the more earthy type of family business so he does poultry. His sons are another story, they want to be big players. I expect the most push back from John Jr. He thinks he’s the reincarnation of Sam Giancana or something. The other brothers, Carmine and Anthony, have a more pragmatic outlook but they still want more of the pie. They’d be an issue even if I wasn’t leaving the business.”

  Nora sat on the end of the bed watching Clint as he pulled on black jeans and black cashmere sweater. He didn’t turn around and he went commando, too. He slipped on a pair of black ankle boots and brushed his wet hair back to allow it to dry. Stowing wallet and room key in his pocket. He held out his hand for her to take.

  “Let’s go into the lion’s den.”

  “Just think of this as practice for the bear cave we’re heading into in Newport News and then the dragon’s lair in Houston,” Nora said.

  * * * *

  The Carlevaros’ turkey farm, visible from the main highway and stretching over twenty-five acres, was surrounded by a white fencing that encompassed everything. Three border collies ranged up and down the fences making sure that the free-range turkeys stayed where they should and that people were discouraged from plucking up a succulent bird at will. Mr. Carlevaros, John Sr., was a burly man who barreled his way through the gate. He was followed by a man who could only be called pretty. John Jr. had glistening brown eyes, wavy dark brown hair and a dimpled smile. Carmine was the middle brother and he closely resembled his father although he smiled more and looked more approachable. The final man who came out of the coop was Stephen. He was six feet tall with the combined looks of John Jr., hair and dimples and Carmine, barrel chest and hulking girth. The men stood in a line as Clint slowed the car to a stop.

  The collies approached cautiously, laying down closer to the turkeys than to the quartet of men. Two huge guards with stern, unsmiling faces searched Nora and Clint before they were even allowed to enter the first gate off the main road. Now, a duo of what looked to be clones of the gate guards patted Clint down and gingerly did the same for Nora.

  “Come on guys. You can’t pat down a little girl like that,” Mr. Carlevaros said. “But you could do a better job on the muscle that she brought with her. Who is he, Nora?”

  “This is my lawyer, Mr. Carlevaros. This is my Clint.” Nora answered.

  “You need a lawyer to talk to a man who watched you grow up?” the old man said.

  “I need a lawyer to make sure I explain a multi-national operation correctly,” Nora answered.

  All around them turkeys begin to gather. Since they were free range they had the run of the place. Turkeys were drawn to sound and movement so they were collecting close to the impromptu meeting. Carmine and Stephen used long poles with milk jugs tied at the end that seemed to be filled with pebbles to draw the flock closer to coops. It was almost time for the sun to set, so it was getting time for them to bed down for the night. The dogs took over the operation, herding the stragglers into the larger flock, barking them into order.

  “Let’s go into the house and settle down so that we can discuss this in comfort and without the smell of turkey shit,” Mr. Carlevaros said.

  Nora introduced the three brothers to Clint as they walked into a mud room where everybody removed their shoes. Nora held her leather portfolio clutched tightly to her chest.

  “You’ll stay for dinner.”

  “No sir, I’ve got two other meetings to make within the next couple of days. So we have to meet and run. I’m sorry for the rudeness, but you know I’ve got to get back home to make sure the harvest is going smoothly.”

  “Always you do business. I hope you’re coming to me now to tell me that you’ll accept my offer and sell me seeds and the process and have decided to work for me. You and your brother could live well. I’ll give you a good price.” The old man waved Carmine over to a handcrafted wooden bar where he poured out tumblers of bourbon.

  Nora sipped hers while Clint carefully placed his on a side table. He sat quietly behind and a little to the right side of Nora. Mr. Carlevaros sat in a large leather chair to Nora’s left. John Jr., Stephen and now Carmine sat on a large, bloodred leather sofa. After air toasts, the bourbon was drunk and a new round poured out. This time to remain on the table and be sipped from time to time.

  “I’m never going to sell OMG to you. What I want to discuss with you is my idea of creating a hydroponic farm that grows fruits, herbs, and vegetables and can be mass produced and sold all over the world. My plan”—Nora pulled out the business plan and handed it to Mr. Carlevaros—“is to create it cheap enough and simple enough so that it could be used com
mercially or for a DIY-er. If it goes well then we should be able to go to the third world, where with a little potable water, some sun and organic nutrients, families should be able to harvest at least three crops a year.”

  “Hydroponics has been around for years. Why would this system be better than any other? The stuff I’ve tasted grown hydro is bland and tasteless,” John Jr. said. He sat back on the couch and crossed his legs.

  “It’s true that in the past the produce tended to be very bland and rather tasteless, but I’ve created a blend of nutrients that make you want more. Clint’s had them. What did you think?”

  Clint was caught off guard and tried to remember when he’d had her vegetables. The memory of the taste of the broccoli from last night came back to him.

  “I’ve only had it once but it was some of the best I’ve eaten.”

  “See, and Clint’s a beef man. If you doubt me, Junior, I’ll ship you some when I get home and you tell me if it’s bland or not.”

  “What does that have to do with the product that you could currently produce? And whether or not you sell it to us?” Carmine said.

  “It has to do with the fact that growing weed is still illegal although I don’t expect it to be very much longer. Mostly it has to do with the fact that I have a legitimate product, and I want to offer my distributors the opportunity to get in on the ground floor of something that could possible change the world,” Nora said. Her voice started out shaky, but grew in confidence as she spoke.

  “You still haven’t explained why you gave up a line of business when it remains our highest non-chemical seller? If you sell it to us, we take over the risks,” John Jr. said.

  “We can offer you $10 million for the entire operations. But that offer is only for today,” Mr. Carlevaros said.

  “It’s a nice offer, low-balled by quite a bit, but it would be an interesting starting price. You know I’m not wrong when I tell you that the Jamaicans will offer double that and the Mexicans four times. But I have no plans on selling marijuana. I’m only here to offer you shares in my newest venture. I’ll leave the prospectus for you to look over,” Nora said. She smiled at the four men, drank her bourbon and accepted another one.

  Mr. Carlevaros accepted more from Carmine. He leaned back into his chair and cleared his throat. “You’ve made this offer to the others already?”

  “You have been my family’s oldest business associate and I came to you first. The others I have appointments with later this week,” Nora said.

  Clint watched her closely for signs of distress or hesitance but didn’t see any.

  “We could just keep you here, with little Sebastian of course, and have you grow what we need at our convenience,” John Jr. said. His angelic face wore the sweet smile of a deadly saint.

  “I would personally be upset if such a thing happened,” Clint said. He moved closer to Nora and John Jr. answered his movement by leaning over the table. Nora held both hands up to stay the motion of both men.

  “John, these are not the days of our great-great-grandparents, when we could be made to work at the whim of someone with more money or connections. I’m not chattel, you’re not my patron, and I resent the implication,” Nora said. There was almost no inflection in her voice but her eyes shot fire.

  “Apologize for the insult, son. Nora, we’ll be in touch,” Mr. Carlevaros said.

  “That’s all I ask,” Nora said.

  * * * *

  The ride back to the hotel was silently completed with one stop, a place with smoked turkey legs that Mr. Carlevaros had recommended. Clint was out of the car and back before Nora could make a request or an objection. They trudged up the steps in complete quiet, totally ignoring one another as they took turns in the bathroom. Showers completed, and they ate the rich turkey drumsticks by hand, washing them down with beer from the stocked fridge.

  “Now I see why Iona made me come on this trip. You’d end up chattel before the first meeting, going by the way you handled tonight. You should have done this by phone. Or better yet, simply stopped supplying them and disappeared into a legitimate business. But Miss I-have-to-make-them-an-offer-they-can-not-refuse decides to tell La Cosa Nostra that she’s never going to do what they want and oh, by the way, fuck you on the way out the door,” Clint said. He spoke with his head bent over the tiny work table in a slow, rumbling voice highly tinged with barely controlled anger.

  “Since Mr. I’m-Popeye-Doyle would have ended up buried under a ton of turkey shit if I hadn’t been there, I pretty much think we’re even. Mr. Carlevaros would not, will not stand for anyone messing with me. John Jr. is trying out his big-boy pants but anytime he gets too big for them, Mr. Carlevaros pulls him back to the real world. I will continue to handle my business the way I see fit,” Nora said. She gingerly picked off pieces of meat that clung to the bone of the turkey leg.

  “What are you thinking? Or do you think? What’s going to happen to Sebastian if you miscalculate the kindness of your gangster friends someday?” he said.

  “I only think of Sebastian, so that was way below the belt. I don’t need a lecture from you, so I’ll just take a shower and take my very naïve, stupid, self off to bed,” she said.

  Clint sat on the small settee listening to her mumble as she brushed her teeth for what seemed like fifteen minutes. She came out and flounced into the bed, naked and mad where she turned off the lights on her side of the bed and turned her back to him.

  He did a bit of mumbling himself as he took his turn in the bathroom. As he climbed into the king-size bed, making sure that he disturbed her as much as possible to lie on his back, he watched the thin light peak through gaps in the curtains.

  She had the nerve to actually go to sleep about twenty minutes later. After thirty minutes, he felt his dick and temper rise at the same time. She was too trusting and naïve to be out alone. She was also a very sexy woman in a world of men who had little or no respect for women in general and, judging by John Jr., her in particular.

  She tried to move closer to the edge of her side of the bed, but his added weight made her keep rolling back to his side. The fourth time she slid into him, he used his hand to anchor her there. She mumbled a few incoherent words before she flung her leg across his thighs.

  He inched her up the side of his body until he could easily kiss her, open mouthed and wet. She wasn’t quite asleep but she wasn’t all the way awake either, but she responded to his touch and his warmth. She immediately began to suck and bite on his tongue, her mumble now a soft moan. He moved his hands down to cup her ass, delving between her legs to dip into her pussy, rolling her clit, making her wetness drip down his finger, then two fingers as he slowly moved them in and out within her. He stretched her legs, opening her so that he throbbed just at her apex.

  “Are you fully conscious now?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “You ready for me?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “You made me very mad.” He slipped just the tip of his dick into her wetness.

  “Ditto.” She pushed down on the head of his cock and grunted.

  “I’m not a gentle man when I’m happy.”

  “You lie, you’re never happy so you’re never a gentle man.” She allowed gravity to bring her all the way down his shaft to his pelvis. In the dim light, they stared into each other eyes, neither moving, both enjoying his throb and her pulsating clutch.

  “Ride me,” he groaned out through clenched teeth.

  “No, you woke me up. You fuck me.”

  “Damn, you are too stubborn for your own good.” He rolled them over so that she lay beneath him. He plunged in deeper than before. His arms slipped under hers as his hands gripped her shoulders and shoved her into his thrust.

  She wanted to scream but remembered in time where she was. She whimpered instead. Pinned as she was, she couldn’t touch him with her hands but she could lick his neck and bite it when the passion overrode her. She gripped him tightly with her thighs, hooking her feet around the back
of his legs and trying ardently to meet his powerful pushes into her.

  He changed direction slightly, so that every time he moved into her he was able to bring the entire length of his dick down hard on her clit. She lasted a few minutes more before she came in a scream that he muffled with a kiss. He slammed his mouth down on hers so that she could swallow his own scream when he came moments later.

  They were in a tangle of sweat-covered arms and legs. She wouldn’t allow him to move from where he landed on her chest until they both stopped panting. When she finally did, he went to the bathroom to clean up and brought a warm washcloth and wiped her down. He returned with a dry towel to dry off what he had made wet before tossing it onto the floor after he finished.

  They went back to their pre-sex positions in the bed, the only difference being that they were both struggling to stay out of the wet spot in the middle.

  “I don’t know why I react the way I do with you,” Clint said. “I don’t think I can ever be as angry as I was today.”

  “Hell, just wait until we get into Newport News,” Nora said. It only took her five minutes to go back to sleep, curled around the warmth of his body.

  * * * *

  They stopped at a chain breakfast restaurant on the way to the airport. Nora had the big man’s meal with bacon, eggs, hash browns, pancakes, oatmeal, a fruit cup, and hot tea. Clint had coffee.

  “It’s always the little-bitty ones that eat the most. I can’t even look at half of that without putting weight on,” the waitress said. She was full-bodied with big teased brown hair.

  “I have a major appetite today. I had a pretty tiring evening,” Nora said. She and the waitress laughed as Clint sputtered into his cup of coffee.

  “Men, always act like a boy caught stealing out the cookie jar the day after, don’t they sweetie?” The waitress walked away laughing with Nora more.

  Nora added milk and honey to her tea, stirring it as she watched Clint through narrowed eyes. She had a frown on her face that deepened as he stared back. They sat looking at each other until the food came. A slow smile spread across her face.