by Susan Stoker
He vaguely felt Laine’s hands running up and down his chest as she caressed him through his orgasm. Wes dropped down lightly onto her, pushing her legs open farther, forcing her to wrap them around him. He felt himself growing soft and mourned the end of their first lovemaking session.
“Don’t be sad,” Laine said, somehow reading his mind.
“I’m not sad, exactly.”
“Then what, exactly?” Laine asked with a smile in her voice.
“Uh . . .” Wes couldn’t think. “I guess I am sad. I wanted it to last longer.”
Laine giggled, and they both groaned when her laughter pushed his flaccid length out of her body. Wes immediately rolled so Laine was resting on top of him.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, since we didn’t use a condom, the gallons of jizz that you forced out of my body will, sooner or later, be making its way out of yours. I didn’t think you wanted to sleep in the wet spot . . . so I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
“Oh, you goof. Let me up. I’ll go take care of things and come back, then neither of us needs to sleep in the gross wet spot.”
“I like you here,” Wes whined.
Laine pushed up to her hands and knees then leaned down and kissed him, pulling away when he tried to deepen it. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.”
Wes watched in the dim light of the room as Laine hopped off the bed and headed for the bathroom. He thought for the hundredth time that night how lucky he was and how pretty Laine was.
She was back within moments and snuggled into his side. Wes drew the sheet up and over them both and closed his eyes in appreciation for his life.
Chapter Seven
‡
Laine smiled down at the text on her phone the next morning while she sat at the table waiting for Wes to finish making their breakfast. He’d insisted on making them both omelets, and Laine didn’t argue. Why would she? She’d let Wes cook her every meal if he wanted to.
“What are you smiling about over there?” Wes asked as he carried two plates to the table, putting one down in front of her.
Laine turned her phone so Wes could see the text that Mack sent.
On a scale from 1-10?
Wes’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s that mean?”
Laine looked down at her phone as she typed out a reply. “She wants to know on a scale of one to ten how the sex was. I told her a seven point five.”
Laine screeched as her phone was grabbed out of her hands. “Hey!”
Wes was looking at the screen. “You did not. A twenty?” He grabbed Laine around the torso and tilted her chair until it was resting on the back two legs.
Laine squealed again, holding on to Wes for all she was worth and laughing at the same time. “Wes! Let me up! Of course it was a twenty! Good Lord, man. You were there. Do you disagree?”
Wes kissed her until she couldn’t breathe and finally brought her upright. “I would’ve told her at least a thirty.”
Laine snatched her phone back up and read Mack’s response.
You’re welcome.
They both laughed. Laine relaxed as they ate their breakfast. She’d been a bit worried that the morning after they’d had such awesome sex would be awkward, but it hadn’t been. Laine had opened her eyes that morning to find Wes up on an elbow, watching her. He’d smoothed a length of her hair behind her ear and smiled down at her.
“Good morning, sleep well?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Best I’ve slept in a long time. You make a good pillow.”
They’d both laughed and Wes had told her to use the master bathroom and he’d use the guest one. Yes, they’d had sex, but it was still a bit weird to do normal morning stuff with him the morning after, and he’d somehow known it. So they’d taken showers in separate bathrooms and met in the kitchen.
“What are your plans for the day?” Wes asked her after they’d finished eating.
“I have a showing this afternoon. You?”
“I’m assisting in an interrogation of a suspect in a robbery, and I’m on call.”
Laine wrinkled her nose.
Wes smiled at her and stood up. He kissed the top of her head and grabbed their dishes. “Such is life for two working adults. But know this, darlin’, I’m going to make every effort to see you every time I can. When I’ve got time off, I want to spend it with you. When you’ve got the time, I’d love to meet you for lunch. As much as possible, I want to spend the night with you. I don’t care if we’re both dead on our feet and all we do is sleep, I like being around you.”
Laine stood up, followed Wes into the kitchen, and watched as he nonchalantly rinsed off the dishes and put them into the dishwasher without having to be prompted. It hit her then. Wes wasn’t a boy. He was a responsible man, who’d lived on his own for a long time. He wouldn’t expect her to cook all the time, or always do their laundry, or clean the dishes . . . he was used to doing those things for himself, just as she was. The perks of dating a man like him occurred to her again. She smiled and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his back.
“I’d like that.”
“Like what?”
“All of what you just said. Meeting you for lunch. Sleeping with you. Hanging out with you. Spending time with you when we’re both free . . . and when I’m not busy hanging out with Mack.”
Wes turned in her arms. “I’d never make you choose between me and Mackenzie, Laine. I know how important she is to you.”
“Thanks. I know I told you about our close relationship before, but wanted to make sure you really understood.
“Never be afraid to tell me how you feel. As we’ve said, we’re not sixteen. Communication is the key to having a strong relationship.”
“Agreed. So we’re officially dating?”
“Absolutely.” Wes beamed at her, showing off his perfect smile. “So . . . what time is this showing you have this afternoon?”
Laine grinned back at him mischievously. “What time do you have to go into work?”
“Not for a few hours.”
“Same here.”
Wes started backing her out of the kitchen toward his room. “Looks like we have a few hours on our hands then. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?”
“I might have some ideas,” Laine said, then turned and sprinted down the hallway, laughing as she heard Wes pounding after her.
Chapter Eight
‡
I can’t wait to see you tonight
Laine’s lips turned upwards in a small smile at the text. Wes never failed to make her feel good. They’d been dating for a little over a month and everything about him made her happy. He was protective, but not stifling. He was responsible and polite, and he made her laugh. Oh, he’d pissed her off too, but because she immediately called him out on his actions, they worked their way through them when they did occur. Just as he did with her when she said or did something that he wasn’t sure about or didn’t like.
Me either. I’m going to check out a property then I’m headed to your place.
Be careful. See you soon.
I will. Later.
Laine turned off her cell to save the battery, which was only at twelve percent. She’d forgotten to bring her charger today and she wanted to make sure she had enough juice for her trip back to his place, just in case. Safety first. Wes had gotten upset with her the other week because he’d tried to call her and couldn’t get through because her phone was dead. She’d tried to tell him how she was simply too busy to remember to keep her charger with her all the time, and he hadn’t listened to her, rightly so. It wasn’t a big deal to carry the stupid thing and she was trying to be better at keeping her phone charged. She didn’t want to worry Wes and she’d be upset if the shoe was on the other foot and she couldn’t get in touch with him if she needed him.
She put her cell back in her purse and climbed out of her car. The ranch took some doing to find, as it was way off
the beaten path . . . but it was so worth it. The neglect was obvious, but the property was gorgeous. Laine could see through the neglect to the gem it could be once again. A porch swing was hanging by one chain on the wide screened-in porch on the front of the house. She could hear the banging of a door from somewhere; she assumed it was coming from the large barn off to her right.
The house was one story, a true ranch-style property. There was a large window in the front, which faced west. Laine could almost imagine the beautiful sunsets the previous occupants of the house had enjoyed over the years. The current owner was a ninety-two-year-old woman who’d long since been moved to the city and into a nursing home. She had one daughter who had no desire to live on the ranch. It was kinda sad, as the home had been in the Johnson family’s possession since the 1800s. But since there weren’t any relatives who wanted it, they had put it up for sale.
There had been several additions over the years and it now boasted five bedrooms and four full baths. The paperwork said it was forty-five hundred square feet, but Laine knew that when the guesthouse square footage was added in, it would easily top six thousand in living space.
It had been on the market for a couple of years, and the daughter was desperate to sell it. The woman had contacted her, wanting to switch to a different realty company, to see if that would breathe new life into the listing and hopefully to sell it.
Laine leaned into her car and grabbed her ever-present boots, remembering how she’d worn them the first time she’d been out to Wes’s ranch. The memory made her smile as she tugged off her sandals and put on the socks and boots. She wanted to walk around the entire grounds to get a feel for it personally. She’d found the best way to represent a property someone wanted to sell was to find out all about it . . . pros and cons. If she was upfront with a potential buyer, or another realtor, it went a long way toward fostering trust that she wasn’t trying to gouge someone or pull the wool over their eyes.
Appropriate footwear on, Laine headed out. She knew she probably looked silly, but no one would see her in her skirt, lacy top, and comfortable old boots. She normally wouldn’t wear a skirt while touring a property, but she’d had lunch with new clients earlier, and had wanted to look professional.
She slowly circled the house, looking at the foundation, seeing if she noticed signs of termites or other critters, and even checked the wood in places to see if it had rotted away in the heat of the sun and the harsh Texas weather conditions.
As she rounded the side of the house, pleased so far with what she’d seen, Laine stopped dead in her tracks. Sitting in front of the large porch was the ugliest dog she’d ever seen. No, ugly wasn’t fair . . . pathetic was a better description.
It had been a long time since the dog had seen any kind of gentle care. Her fur was filthy. It looked like some sort of pit bull mix. She was obviously female, as her teats hung low, as if she had puppies somewhere who relied on their mother for nourishment. As Laine took a step toward her, the dog’s tail tucked between her legs and she backed up.
“Oh, you poor thing. I’m not gonna hurt you. Do you have babies somewhere? I don’t blame you for being wary of me. Come here, baby.” Laine knelt down in the dirt and held out her hand, trying to coax the dog to her.
When it was obvious the dog wasn’t going to come near her, Laine said out loud, more to herself than the dog, “You look hungry. I bet I have something in my car that you’d like.”
She stood up and the dog made a break for the barn at her sudden movement, keeping well out of her way.
Laine’s heart broke. She wanted to hold the dog and reassure her that she’d never hurt her, but the dog wasn’t going to let her get anywhere close.
The house forgotten for a moment, Laine opened her passenger-side door to see what she could scrounge up from her purse. Thankful that she always carried some sort of snack, Laine triumphantly pulled out a granola bar. Luckily, it had no chocolate in it, so the dog could safely eat it. It was some sort of protein thing, which tasted like shit, but Laine didn’t think the dog would care. She peeled off the wrapper and dropped it onto her purse to throw away later before she shut the door.
Looking over at the barn, Laine saw the dog peering at her from the broken door. She walked slowly toward the barn, stopping when she was halfway there, figuring any farther would be pushing her luck. She broke the granola bar into pieces and placed them on the ground, knowing the poor dog wouldn’t care about a little dirt on the snack.
“There ya go. See? It’s just food. I’m sure you’re hungry. You look hungry to me. I know it tastes horrible, but you need the fuel. Think of your puppies. They need you to stay healthy, I’m sure.” She stepped back slowly, not taking her eyes off the dog. “Go on, it’s safe. Promise. I’ll stay out of your way while you check it out. It’s all yours, I’m not gonna steal it back before you can get it.”
Pleased when the dog slunk toward the food, Laine kept backing away. She stayed about twenty feet from the dog the entire time and smiled when she sniffed her offering and then wolfed it down, never taking her eyes from Laine.
Feeling as if she’d won a gold medal in the Olympics when the mangy mutt wagged her tail, Laine smiled and took a step toward her.
Startled anew at her movement, the dog whirled and took off around the side of house.
“Darn.” Looking around—for what, Laine had no clue—she shrugged and followed where the dog had gone. There was no one out there. There were a few clumps of trees here and there, but for the most part the land was empty and desolate. There was no way she could just leave the dog and puppies. Even though she hadn’t seen any signs of other dogs or of the puppies, there had to be some around. Most likely in the barn. Laine had no idea how she’d get the frightened animal, or any puppies she might find, in her car, but felt she had to try.
Rounding the back of the house, she saw the dog sitting about a hundred yards into a large pasture. She was sitting on her haunches now, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Laine ducked under the rail of an old wooden fence and climbed through after the dog. She spoke to her as she walked, keeping her eyes on her, trying to portray friendly vibes.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. You look like you need some help. Those mats can’t feel good, right? I can bring you to a lady who can shave those things right off. You’ll feel two hundred times better once they’re gone, promise. And food. Oh, as much as you can eat. Your babies will get the care they need too. You’re probably tired of them nursing, yeah? They’ll get their own food and you can get healthy again. I don’t know what kind of dog you are, but I bet you’re beautiful under all that muck, aren’t you? I might be able to find something else for you—”
Laine’s words were cut off as the ground under her gave way and she screamed, terrified, as she fell. The pain radiating up from her ankles as she landed made her knees immediately buckle, and she fell onto her butt into about half a foot of water. The boards, which had been covering whatever she’d fallen into, bit into her skin and made her groan out in pain as she sat there for a moment trying to process exactly what had just happened.
Laine could feel the darkness creeping in at the sides of her eyes from the pain in her ankles, but she closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply until the sensation passed. When she thought she was past the danger of fainting, she opened her eyes and looked up, needing to know just what the hell she’d gotten herself into now.
She could see the blue sky and the light fluffy clouds she’d thought so pretty ten minutes ago above her head . . . way above her head. She was probably around twenty feet down, with no way of climbing out. There were no hand holes or steps leading up. She was in some sort of shaft . . . if she had to guess, she thought maybe it was an old well.
It smelled musty, as if it’d been covered up for a long time. Laine sneezed three times in a row as the mold in the air tickled her nose. She put her hand on the side of her tomb to test the strength of the walls surrounding her. The dirt flaked off
in her hand. It was more like clay, but Laine could see as the walls went upward, the clay made way to drier dirt. Hell, she was lucky she wasn’t buried alive. She knew as well as anyone how dangerous these old wells were. With the droughts they’d had recently, many wells were drying up and even collapsing because of the lack of water in the soil.
Laine half sighed, half sobbed, not believing how stupid she’d been. All of her attention had been on the dog, and not on where she was walking. Laine knew better. She’d been trained on how to recognize the signs of abandoned wells on properties. Had to sit through an entire class for her realtor’s license, in fact. Laine thought back to what she’d learned in the eight-hour course . . . pipes sticking up, depressions in the earth, windmills, or random pieces of lumber lying around. They were all signs that there might be a well or mine, and to beware.
Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to get out, Laine climbed to her feet carefully, and turned her attention to her immediate surroundings. She was standing in about six inches of black, murky water; luckily it wasn’t more. There were some sort of insects on the surface of the water and Laine couldn’t help but think of snakes and leeches. Figuring she was safe from snakes, thank God, as she didn’t immediately see any, her concern went to the bugs that decided she must’ve been sent by a higher power to feed them. They were on her legs and buzzing around her face. Laine waved a hand in front of her to try to keep them away.
Her ankles hurt. They’d taken the brunt of the landing from her fall. She cautiously moved one; it throbbed, but she didn’t think it was broken. Somehow she must’ve used her hands to slow her fall on her way down. Whatever the reason, she was glad she wasn’t more injured than she was. Laine didn’t dare take her boots off to check her ankles, for fear if they started swelling, she’d never get them back on.