“Mmmmmm, this is a good thing.”
They occupied themselves for a few minutes just kissing and nibbling, hands touching and exploring in a slow and gentle reawakening.
“Do you miss them?” Cadie asked finally.
Jo looked where her hands were resting, and squeezed the perfect handfuls gently.
“Constantly,” she grinned.
“Tch, not them, silly,” Cadie giggled.
Jo watched the faint blush making its way up the blonde’s neck to her face, highlighting her light brows. Gorgeous.
“You are so beautiful,” she murmured, smiling as her words heightened the effect of the blush.
“You are so biased,” Cadie demurred.
“Yes I am,” the dark-haired woman agreed. “But that doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”
Cadie’s heart melted. How did I get this lucky, she wondered.
“You didn’t answer the question,” she whispered.
“What question? Oh … do I miss my parents, you mean?” Jo’s gaze drifted from Cadie’s face to somewhere over her shoulder.
The blonde watched the emotions flicking across her partner’s face. Jo hadn’t seen her parents in about 15 years, she knew. Not since she had sneaked away from their farm in the west of New South Wales as a troubled teenager and headed for the temptations of Sydney. They had talked over the phone a few times, but Cadie knew it had been at least a year since their last contact.
Jo sighed.
“I guess I do, kind of, yeah,” she admitted. “I don’t … it’s been so long. I don’t know who they are any more, and for sure I’m a completely different person from the kid they knew.” Her eyes flicked back to Cadie’s. “And I guess I feel guilty as well. The longer it goes on, the easier it is to stay away.”
Cadie absorbed that, wondering just how true that was, or if Jo was avoiding the issue. I’d like to meet her parents, she thought. But unless she’s comfortable with the concept, I’m not going to push it.
Jo had her hands behind her head, eyes closed.
“I’d like them to meet you, though,” she said suddenly. Cadie smiled quietly, watching the older woman’s face carefully. “Maybe with you around, they’ll see that I’m not such a waste of time.”
Awwwwww Jo-Jo, don’t do that to yourself.
Cadie pushed Jo’s fringe away from her eyes.
“Why do you think that’s how they see you?” she asked gently.
She watched Jo swallow. Blue eyes blinked repeatedly.
“Because they’ve never asked me to come home,” came the bleak response.
“Ohhh, Jo-Jo.” Cadie leaned closer, wrapping her arms around her soulmate’s waist. She felt Jo bury her face against her neck and she planted a soft kiss against the black hair. “I don’t think it’s about them thinking you’re a waste of time, sweetheart,” she whispered. “I think, when you ran away, they were hurt and scared and angry because they didn’t understand. But I also think they wanted you to have what you wanted - which was to be anywhere but the farm.” She felt Jo go very still in her arms, just listening. Softly, softly, Arcadia. “Maybe staying silent was their way of letting you go. And as time went on, like you said, it got more and more difficult to ask for what they really wanted. To see you. To ask you to come home.”
Jo sniffled slightly, and wiped her face on Cadie’s t-shirt, provoking a smile from the blonde.
“D-do you want to meet them?” Very quiet.
“I’d like to very much, yes,” Cadie answered honestly. “But I understand how difficult that will be for you, sweetheart. And I’m in no hurry.”
Jo pulled back a little and Cadie kissed a stray tear from her cheek.
“I… uh… maybe we could start with a phone call?” she asked uncertainly.
Cadie laughed softly, kissing Jo’s lips.
“Yes, hon. We can do that.”
Chapter Two
It was silent in the darkened office. The figure slumped in the mahogany leather chair gazed through the large window at the cityscape outside. Bustling traffic around Union Station was evidence of rush hour, the imposing building glistening against the night sky as cars and people swirled around it. The shadowed form looked down on the organized chaos of a Washington DC late winter’s evening. Her mind was a long way from the city though, and her mood was dark and uncertain.
Senator Naomi Silverberg, the junior Republican senator for Illinois, was deeply depressed, and that was always a dangerous state for her. But she felt she had good cause to be in a foul temper. Thanks to a drunken, ill thought out evening on the tiles at the Australian island resort she had been visiting, Silverberg’s face had been plastered all over the Australian media. It hadn’t taken long for the good news to filter across the Pacific and she had been recalled by the party to Washington. She had arrived home to be greeted by a hostile press, and an even less friendly meeting with the GOP’s higher echelons.
She’d also returned without her partner, and that too had set tongues wagging. Her long-term relationship with Arcadia had been one of the cornerstones on which her successful political career had been built. So far the cover story they’d concocted to explain Cadie’s absence had held with the press, but the time was rapidly approaching for her partner to stop this nonsense and come home.
The party leadership was not happy with her, Naomi knew. Most were slightly to the right of Genghis Khan to begin with, and had grudgingly supported her career only when the power of the pink dollar had been pointed out to them. It was no secret that many Republicans had been waiting for any opportunity to take her down a few notches. And they had. Resoundingly. She had been carpeted, keelhauled and hung out to dry. It would be a long climb back.
Bells began ringing through the office building. Up on the wall of the office, just below the clock, a series of lights blinked into life. Behind her a door opened, admitting a member of her staff. In his early 30s, neat, bespectacled and earnest, Jason Samuels was one half of the senator’s public relations team. He and his partner, Toby McIntyre, had been with the politician in Australia. They had watched Silverberg’s relationship with her partner unravel in the face of the unquestionable chemistry between Cadie and the yacht skipper they had met there. And since their return to the US they had witnessed the steady breakdown of the senator’s personality.
Silverberg had always been an abrasive character, but despite her flaws she had never failed to do her job as a politician. Jason wasn’t sure that was the truth any more. She was even more emotionally erratic, had skipped important meetings and brushed off lobbyists she wouldn’t have dreamed of ignoring a few months ago. And lately … well, lately she’d had a gleam in her eye that just didn’t look quite sane.
He shook that last thought away as nonsensical. She’s just tired and angry and defensive, he decided.
Jason approached cautiously, casting a glance up at the lights which indicated a vote in the Senate Chamber, and the time left for Naomi to make the quick trip over to the Capitol to cast her vote. The silhouette in the chair hadn’t moved, however.
“Vote’s on, senator,” Jason said quietly. “You’ve got about 10 minutes.”
There was no movement from over by the window and he waited. Lately she had been hard to predict and he no longer knew when he could push her and when it was best to leave her be. After almost 10 years working for her, that was unnerving.
She’s never been the most affable of people, he acknowledged. But since we came back from Australia … He let that thought go unfinished as he stepped forward and placed a file of documents on the large oak desk the senator sat behind.
“Get me the phone number of Cheswick Marine,” came a husky voice from behind the high back of the leather chair.
Ahhh. Now at least I know where her mind is, he thought.
“I’ll have it for you when you come back from the Chamber,” he answered carefully.
“Get it now,” she growled.
Jason sighed. Don’t get on a jag now, Na
y, please, he thought.
“You don’t have time to call now, senator,” he said patiently.
“Get it NOW!” The senator spun the chair around to him and he was faced with sparking brown eyes that brooked no further argument.
“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, turning on his heel and walking back out to the aides’ room. He closed the door behind him and caught the eye of his partner, who was tucked behind a plain wooden desk in the far corner of the crowded room.
“Problem?” Toby asked, noting Jason’s harried expression as he weaved his way through the other desks towards him. The two men looked disconcertingly alike, though Toby was the slightly taller of the two.
“She wants the phone number of the yacht charter company,” Jason answered, dropping his voice so they couldn’t be overheard by the receptionist and the other three aides in the room.
“Shit. Now?” Toby asked, glancing down at his watch. “She’s never gonna make that goddamn vote, and then we’ll have the Sergeant-at-Arms on our ass.”
Jason nodded.
“I know,” he said, quickly flicking through the Rolodex on Toby’s desk. “Here it is.” He yanked the card from the file just as the office door behind them slammed open and the stocky politician stalked out. As she drew level with the two men she reached out a hand and Jason wordlessly placed the card against her palm.
“What am I voting on?” she asked gruffly, tucking the card in her pocket.
“Child Protection Bill,” Toby replied.
“Yea or nay?” She straightened her jacket, and then twisted her skirt slightly, realigning it.
The two men looked at each other.
“You’re in favor of it,” Jason said dryly.
“Fine,” she muttered. Without another word she stepped out into the hallway, joining the steady stream of politicians and aides making for the Capitol.
Toby and Jason looked at each other, mutual concern in their eyes.
“Is it time to go home yet?” Jason asked plaintively.
Jo broke the surface and spat the snorkel’s mouthpiece out as she trod water between the Seawolf and the small coral reef to her left. Cadie was in front of her, about 20 feet away, face down as she took in the colorful vista below. Jo wasn’t sure just what had made her stick her head up, but she reached up and flipped the mask off her face as she looked around. There it was again – a distant rumbling that had her blinking up at the unblemished blue sky.
Thunder? She swiveled around to the southwest, where the mainland was just over the horizon. Sure enough a line of thick, black thunderheads was gathering, and if the weather patterns followed their usual course, the storm would be rolling towards them. Oh yeah.
“Seawolf, Seawolf, this is Shute Harbor Coastguard. Come in.”
The radio crackled and spat in reaction to a distant bolt of lightning, before the voice returned.
“Seawolf, Seawolf, this is Shute Harbor. Please respond.”
Jo cursed softly and struck out for the short metal ladder hanging over the port side of the yacht. She tossed the snorkel and mask on board before she climbed up, ignoring the large puddles of water she splattered over the deck. Quickly she ducked down the companionway, flipping the radio handset off its clip.
“Shute Harbor, Shute Harbor, this is Seawolf. Come in.”
“That you, Jo-Jo? You had me worried there for a bit.” She smiled as she recognized the man’s voice.
“Yeah, Mike, it’s me. Sorry, mate, I was in the water. I bet you’re about to tell me there’s a storm coming.”
“You got it,” came the static-distorted response. “And it’s supposed to be a beauty, too. They’re predicting hail with high winds.”
Shit. “Okay, thanks Mike. Is it moving northeast?”
“Yeah. Let us know what you decide to do, eh?”
Jo held down the transmitter button again.
“Will do, Shute Harbor. Seawolf out.” She replaced the handset and stood, hands on hips for a few seconds, contemplating her options. “Bugger,” she muttered as she climbed the steps up to the cockpit. A glance over her shoulder told her the line of storms had already advanced noticeably. Jo walked to the side, looking for her partner. The American had moved closer to the reef, oblivious to the approaching weather. The skipper cupped her hands around her mouth and called out.
“Cadie!”
Immediately the blonde head lifted, turning towards the sound.
“Hey!” Cadie answered. “What are you doing up there?” She grinned.
Jo smiled back and pointed towards the storm front. Cadie followed the line of her hand, her eyes widening at the sight of the threatening sky. Straight away she began swimming back to the yacht. The skipper walked over to the ladder and reached down to help her lover up.
“I guess we’ve got to get moving, huh?” Cadie asked as Jo handed her a towel, picking up one for herself at the same time.
They stood together, drying off in the last of the sunlight.
“Well, we’ve got a few options,” Jo replied. “We could stay put and just ride it out. Or we can head out to sea and try to outflank it on the open water. Or we could head for the nearest port.”
“Which would be?”
“Hayman,” Jo said, naming the northernmost island resort in the Whitsunday chain.
“Can we get there in time?” Cadie asked, pulling a pair of cutoff denim shorts up over her swimsuit.
“Probably not, no,” Jo said bluntly. “It’s still our best plan, though, I think.” Truth be told, the Seawolf was a little too big for just two crew members, especially when one of them was as inexperienced as Cadie. Not that Jo doubted the younger woman’s abilities. She had learned a lot in the short weeks since she had first come onboard, plus she was fit and strong for her size. But taking on the open ocean in the middle of a storm in a large, under-crewed yacht was something even Jo thought twice about. “If we’re going to get caught in a storm I’d rather do it in the Passage than out at sea,” she said aloud, watching Cadie’s face for her reaction.
“Sounds good to me, skipper,” the blonde answered confidently, utterly sure of her partner’s judgment. “Hayman it is. And maybe,” her green eyes sparkled, “maybe we could even coax dinner out of Mama Rosa.”
Jo grinned. Rosa Palmieri was an old friend. She and her family lived and worked at the Hayman Island resort and they had happily adopted Cadie as one of their own. Mama Rosa was a traditional Italian cook, prone to producing gargantuan meals that were truly legendary.
“Now that does sound like a plan,” Jo said. “God, my mouth is already watering.” Cadie stepped closer, using her towel to brush the last of the water from the taller woman’s shoulders. “Hello, Miss Jones,” Jo burred, amazed as always by her body’s visceral response to her partner’s proximity.
“Hello,” Cadie answered with a quiet smile. She stood up on tiptoe and softly kissed the corner of Jo’s mouth. “Oh captain, my captain,” she whispered.
“Oh shut up,” Jo murmured back before she pulled the blonde closer and renewed the contact. Storm? What storm?
For long, leisurely seconds Jo put the thought of the oncoming thunderstorm firmly in the back of her mind, preferring to concentrate on the luscious feel of the soft lips on hers. Cadie had wrapped her arms around her neck and the tall skipper gladly lifted her closer as the kiss deepened.
When they broke apart it was with a mutual sigh.
“Ready to do some sailing?” Jo murmured.
“You bet. What do you need me to do?” Cadie answered softly, feeling Jo kissing her forehead gently.
“Find the boycat and shut him below decks,” the skipper replied. “Last thing we need is him wet and miserable.” Cadie felt the grin against her skin and chuckled.
“Okay,” she agreed, pulling back and looking up into blue eyes.
“Then give Shute Harbor a call? Let them know we’re heading to Hayman.”
Cadie nodded and moved away.
“I’ll dig out the wet weathe
r gear as well,” she said. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”
“Oh yeah,” Jo muttered.
Twenty minutes later they were under sail, tacking into a hefty breeze coming off the front of the storm’s wall cloud. They had picked their way through the maze of small reefs using the yacht’s motor, but once in deep water Jo had hoisted the large mainsail and the smaller foresail and they had pointed towards Hayman Island, due west from them.
Cadie was at the helm, the wind whipping her blonde hair back from her face as they raced towards the oncoming storm front. Jo finished trimming the mainsail, winding hard on the geared winch until she had the rigging taut. There was no rain yet, but she grabbed one of the yellow slickers Cadie had brought up from below and pulled it on, grimacing at the clammy feel of the plastic against her sweaty skin. She picked her way aft to the helm and handed Cadie the other waterproof jacket.
“Thanks,” said the blonde, stepping back so Jo could take the wheel while she put it on. “How long do you think it’s going to take us?” she asked.
Jo glanced down at the gauge that clocked the boat’s speed. They were nudging 10 knots, about as fast as they could go without risking the rigging. They listed to starboard by about 20 degrees and so far the yacht was cutting nicely through the moderate chop.
“Probably about another hour,” she calculated. “We’re lucky we weren’t further north or we’d be beating right into the wind. At least we’ve got a bit of a favorable angle this way.” She handed the helm back to the blonde, sliding in behind Cadie and wrapping her arms around her waist.
“I know this isn’t the best weather in the world,” Cadie said. “But I’m really enjoying this.” She looked over her shoulder and caught the feral grin on her lover’s face. “You are too, aren’t you, skipper?”
“Oh yeah,” Jo answered happily, squeezing Cadie gently. “I’m glad you love doing this. I find it pretty hard to imagine not being able to get out here every now and then.”
“Mmmmmm well, you don’t need to worry about that,” Cadie replied. She adjusted their heading a little, pointing them more directly at Hayman, which was now visible on the horizon. They were almost under the lip of the dark wall cloud and the atmosphere was rich with ozone. Both women looked up.
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