Angels Landing

by Rochelle Alers

  Jeff made slow, deliberate love to Kara until he established a rhythm she followed as if they’d choreographed it in advance, their bodies keeping perfect tempo with each other. Even with the thin barrier of latex, he still could feel her heat as he quickened his thrusts. Soft moans filled the room, and she rose to meet his strong thrusts, their bodies in exquisite harmony with each other, hurtling him to a point of no return.

  His scrotum tightened painfully, and the burning sensation at the base of his spine was an indication that he was going to ejaculate. Jeff tried concentrating on anything but the woman writhing underneath him. He closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of her thrashing head and the rush of color darkening her face and chest.

  Burying his head between her neck and shoulder, he quickened his movements and then released the desire, lust, and passion that had been building since the first time he walked into the garden room to find Kara rising off the chair like an apparition in a dream.

  He felt Kara’s orgasm as her flesh squeezed his penis, released him, and then squeezed him again and again. It was his turn to plead with her to stop when her vaginal muscles held his semierect penis in a viselike grip.

  “Oh, baby, baby, baby,” he chanted over and over until her throbbing flesh stilled and he was able to pull out. Rolling off her body, Jeff lay on his back, arms above his head as he tried slowing down his runaway heartbeat. He let out an audible sigh when Kara climbed atop him.

  “Are you all right,” she whispered in his ear.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  Kara rested her cheek on his muscled chest. “Don’t you dare pass out on me, Jeff.”

  He smiled. “I’m not going to pass out. I just need to catch my breath.”

  They lay together, he barely feeling the weight of the body molded to the length of his. Jeff wasn’t certain when Kara had fallen asleep because he had also. When he did wake, it was hours later. Kara lay beside him, curled into the fetal position. He went to the bathroom to discard the condom.

  He returned to the bed, got in next to the woman whose scent was stamped on his skin like a tattoo, and pulled a sheet and lightweight blanket over their bodies. He fell asleep again. His internal alarm clock woke him at six, and Jeff managed to get out of bed, dress, write a note explaining his absence, and leave the house through the rear door, the door locking behind him.

  It wasn’t the way he’d wanted to leave Kara, but he was scheduled to relieve Nelson Lambert at eight that morning. It was early Sunday morning, and the Cove had yet to stir when he maneuvered his car under the carport next to his grandmother’s.

  Jeff used the back staircase to his bedroom. He shaved, showered, and dressed, then went downstairs to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. His cooking skills weren’t four star, but he was able to put together a more than passable breakfast.

  He’d just finished flipping buckwheat pancakes, placing them on a plate next to a bowl of sliced strawberries and peaches, when his grandmother walked into the kitchen. She was dressed for church in a becoming shirtwaist dress and sensible pumps. The single strand of pearls around her neck matched the pair in her ears.

  “Good morning, Gram.”

  Corrine smiled. “Good morning, Jeffrey. Slept out last night, did you?” She picked up her favorite coffeepot and filled it with water.

  Jeff refused to look at her. “Why are you asking a question you already know the answer to?”

  “I just needed to hear it for myself.”

  His hands stilled before he set the plate on the table. “Who told you?”

  “Hannah Forsyth called last night, waking me out of a good sleep to tell me she saw you and Kara at the movies. And I figured when you didn’t come home, you were with her.”

  Jeff shook his head. “Damn, Gram!”

  “Jeffrey, you know I don’t abide with cussin’ in my house on Sunday.”

  “Sorry about that. What did she do? Put a GPS tracker on my car?”

  “You haven’t been away that long that you don’t know how fast gossip spreads across the island. The next thing you know they’ll have you and Kara married with a house full of kids.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Gram.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she doesn’t plan on living here past five years.”

  Corrine frowned. “That’s nonsense. If she stays five, then why not ten or even thirty? That will doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve said thirty years. And what would she have done? Live here for that length of time, then pick up and leave? I don’t think so, Jeffrey. You know I’ve never been one to get into your personal business, but it’s going to be up to you to change her mind. And you don’t need five years to do that. My sister called and told me how David messed up his life stringing that girl along for so long. In my day no girl would wait around for a man to get up enough nerve to marry her. But you young folks hem and haw, and when the girl leaves you for another man, suddenly you realize what you’ve lost. My mama used to say, ‘You don’t miss your water ’til the well runs dry, and you don’t miss your baby ’til she says good-bye.’ Don’t be a fool, Jeffrey. If you want Kara to stay, then you better start now trying to change her mind.”

  “Kara’s parents are coming for Easter, and she’s inviting us to Angels Landing for dinner.”

  “Tell her we’re coming and find out what she’d like me to bring. And don’t try and change the subject, Jeffrey. If you let this girl get away, then I’m going to disown you.”

  Jeff pulled out a chair at the table. “Please sit down, Gram, and eat before your pancakes get cold.” Leaning down, he kissed her soft, curly hair. “Love you.”

  Corrine waved him away. “Don’t try and sweet-talk me, Jeffrey. I mean what I say.”

  Sitting opposite his grandmother, Jeff blew her a kiss. He knew she was angry with him, but there wasn’t much he could do to get Kara to change her mind short of proposing marriage. He’d done that once, and one thing he’d learned was not to make the same mistake twice.

  He would enjoy the time given them, and when Kara packed up and left Angels Landing, Jeff knew he wouldn’t have any regrets.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kara felt as if she was on a roller-coaster. At first she’d complained about not having anything to do but read and weed a garden, and now she couldn’t find enough hours in the day to complete her to-do list. However, keeping busy was the perfect excuse to keep from thinking about Jeff. Whenever she did think of him, it was always thoughts of their lovemaking. The image of his hands searching between her thighs, his mouth on her breasts, and his hardness moving in and out of her body invaded her dreams, and she’d wake gasping, struggling to breathe until the throbbing and pulsing subsided. She’d curse her traitorous body; then she would lay motionless until sleep claimed her again while praying the erotic dream wouldn’t return. But it did return—not every night, but often enough to remind Kara of what she’d had for one blissful night and wanted again. She couldn’t wait to see Jeff again, but had so much to do in preparation for the upcoming holiday.

  Not only were her parents, Jeff, and Corrine coming for Easter dinner, but Dawn had called to say she was closing her dance studio for a week and had decided she needed a change of scenery. Dawn, who didn’t like flying, had decided to take the train into Charleston.

  Sitting in her car at the Amtrak station, Kara closed her eyes. She’d ordered all the food she needed from the supermarket in the Cove. Back in New York, she would have traveled to the grocery store herself. But Mrs. Todd told her that she hardly ever went to the supermarket. She’d call in her order and had the groceries, meat, and produce delivered. The market would bill Taylor, and he would mail them a check. Now that she handled all the expenses for the household, Kara found herself doing the same, in addition to writing checks for electric, gas, and other household incidentals. Even though there was no mortgage on the house, there were still property taxes. The insurance premiums on the vintage cars, the house, and its contents were ast
ronomical.

  The engineer had sent his report, stating the foundation was sound, and the historic preservationist had sent her a copy of the estimated costs of restoring the interiors and re-creating the exterior buildings and gardens. Morgan had recommended him because he’d been one of her instructors at SCAD before he retired to go into business for himself while hiring a few of his interns. Now she knew why Taylor had bequeathed her so much money. A large portion of the inheritance would go to restoring Angels Landing.

  It had taken the security company three full days to wire the house and property. They’d placed tiny cameras in trees that were barely visible at first glance. Kara now felt safer, especially once she armed the system before retiring for bed.

  Jeff came to see her whenever he was off duty but had only slept over once since the system was installed. She wasn’t certain whether he didn’t want to leave his grandmother home alone too often or if he wanted to keep gossip to a minimum.

  Mrs. Todd had warned Kara that folks were talking about the sheriff spending the night at Angels Landing. What Kara didn’t understand was how anyone knew he’d spent the night when he’d parked his car where it wasn’t visible from the path leading up to the house. The nearest residence was more than two acres away, so unless someone had a powerful telescope trained on her property, it would be impossible for them to monitor anyone coming and going. She decided to wait a week, then contact the security company to review surveillance footage to ascertain who was watching her home.

  Kara heard the sound of the train pulling into the station and got out of the car and walked to the platform to wait for Dawn. Her former roommate was the last one off the train. Kara waved to get her attention. “Hey, Miss Dee.”

  Dawn turned when she heard her name. “Miss Kay!” Shouldering a large tapestry bag, she rushed over and hugged Kara.

  Kara returned the hug, then pulled back to look at her friend. Dawn’s pixie hairstyle suited her. With her natural blonde hair, peaches and cream complexion, and tiny round face, she could be the perfect Peter Pan.

  “Welcome to the Lowcountry.”

  Dawn pulled her sweatshirt away from her chest. “I can’t believe this heat. We’re still wearing winter coats in New York, and here you are in a T, shorts, and sandals.”

  Reaching for Dawn’s bag, Kara slung it over her shoulder. “You probably want to shower and get into something lighter than sweats.”

  Dawn closed her sky-blue eyes. “You’re singing my song.” She gave Kara a long, lingering stare. “You look good, roomie.”

  “I feel good. Come on, let’s go before we run into traffic. Of course, it’s nothing like rush hour traffic in New York—”

  “Please don’t mention New York until it’s time for me to go back.”

  Kara led the way to the parking lot where disembarking passengers were hugging friends and relatives and loading trunks of cars and taxis with luggage. She put Dawn’s bag on the rear seat, slipped behind the wheel, and drove away from the train station.

  Dawn slumped against the leather seat and closed her eyes. “I envy you, Kara.”

  “What for?”

  “For being brave enough to change your life.”

  “I’ve only changed my lifestyle, Dawn.”

  “Life or lifestyle. Same difference. Look at me. I’m a professional dancer who suffers from occasional stage fright, so in order to make ends meet I open a dance studio and teach kids whose mothers believe they’ll be the next Nureyev or Dame Margot Fonteyn. But my students could care less about first, second, or third position. I don’t want to teach, Kara. I just want to dance, dance, and dance some more.”

  Kara and Dawn had talked at length about her inability to perform in front of a live audience. The talented dancer had tried hypnosis and antianxiety medication, but she wasn’t able to overcome the disorder that kept her from doing what she’d been trained to do.

  “What other alternatives do you have?” she asked. “Think of Nureyev or Baryshnikov. What did they do after they stopped dancing?”

  “They never really stop dancing. Most times they become mentors or teach.”

  “What about choreographing, Dawn? I know if I were in your class, I wouldn’t want to come in once or twice a week and learn steps and positions. That’s boring as hell.”

  Dawn opened her eyes, sat up straight, and stared at Kara’s profile. “What would you want to see?”

  “The Nutcracker, Sleeping Beauty, and Swan Lake with an urban spin. Bernstein and Robbins took Romeo and Juliet and turned it into West Side Story, and the rest is history. Give your students something they can relate to: street dancing.”

  “You’re a genius!” Dawn said punching her shoulder.

  “Ouch! You don’t know your own strength.”

  “My bad, Kara. Can you imagine my kids putting on an updated version of The Nutcracker? The mouse king has to be a real badass.”

  Kara smiled. “There you go.”

  Dawn kept up a steady stream of conversation during the drive to Cavanaugh Island, falling silent only when Kara drove along the allée of oaks draped in Spanish moss. Her mouth formed a perfect O when the house came into view.

  “You are freaking Scarlett O’Hara.”

  “Scarlett lived at Tara. This is Angels Landing.”

  Dawn stuck her head out the open window, staring up at the three-story structure. “I see why you decided not to come back. This place is awesome.”

  “It needs a lot of work,” Kara explained when she parked her car near the garages.

  “What are those?” Dawn asked, pointing to the two one-story structures several hundred feet from the main house.

  “Guesthouses. The groundskeeper and his wife live in one. I plan to move into the other once the workmen begin their restoration. What’s nice about the guesthouse is that it has two bedrooms, a full bath, utility kitchen and living/dining area.” Kara opened the car door. “Let’s go in and get you settled.” She led Dawn to the second floor and opened the door to a bedroom in the west wing. “You’ll have your own bathroom.”

  “Where’s your room?” Dawn asked as she placed her bag on the bench at the foot of the queen-sized bed.

  “I’m at the other end. Have you eaten?”

  “I stopped and had something to eat before I got on the train. Once it pulled out of New York, I reclined my seat and went to sleep”

  Kara stared at the petite woman who barely tipped the scales at one hundred pounds. “We’ll go out for dinner.”

  “Fancy or casual?”

  “It’s casual.” She decided she would take Dawn to Jack’s Fish House. “By the way, my parents are coming in tomorrow for the weekend.”

  Dawn’s face split into a smile. “I love your folks.”

  “I know they’ll love seeing you again. I’m going to shower and change. Meet me in the kitchen.”

  “Where’s the kitchen?”

  Kara pointed to the nearest staircase. “Take the stairs and turn left. It’s the second room off the hallway.”

  She left Dawn, retracing her steps until she entered her bedroom. She wondered how Theodora would’ve reacted if she knew her son’s daughter had become mistress of Angels Landing and that the house would be filled with people she probably would’ve deemed beneath her.

  It wasn’t the first time Kara had tried to imagine meeting her paternal grandmother. Would the woman reject her outright, or would she embrace her because they looked so much alike?

  What she found strange was that anyone who mentioned Theodora’s name didn’t have anything nice to say about her, and Kara shuddered to think of how she would’ve turned out if her mother had married Taylor instead of Austin.

  Walking into the bathroom and stripping off her clothes, she covered her hair with a shower cap. It was easier to think about Teddy than Jeff. She missed seeing him every day, sleeping with him, and making love with him. He’d become a drug, a very addictive drug she didn’t want to shake.

  Kara and Dawn walked into Ja
ck’s, and the room suddenly quieted before conversations began again. Most of the muted televisions were tuned to the Atlanta Braves baseball game while others were tuned to ESPN. As usual the restaurant was crowded with regulars and out-of-towners.

  Dawn, wearing a pair of black cropped pants with a white man-tailored shirt and four-inch heels, leaned close to Kara. “Does this happen every time you come here?” she whispered.

  “No. Folks are curious because you’re a stranger.”

  Bright blue eyes grew wider. “Please don’t tell me everyone knows one another.”

  Kara smiled. “They do.”

  “How do you deal with that?”

  “I just deal. Tuesday, we need a table for two,” she said to the waitress that had approached them.

  “Please follow me.”

  They were shown to a table in a secluded corner. It was only when she sat down that Kara noticed Jeff sitting at a table with another man. He turned his head and their eyes met. Her pulse quickened when he said something to the man, stood up, and came over to her table. Those close enough to watch the interchange had stopped eating while craning their necks.

  Rising to her feet, Kara smiled up at him. “Hey,” she said softly. He smiled, bringing her gaze to linger on the attractive cleft in his strong chin.

  “Hey yourself. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

  “I brought my ex-roommate and houseguest for the next week. Jeff, this is Dawn Ramsey. Dawn, Jeffrey Hamilton.”

  Dawn, who was usually never at a loss for words, stared up at the tall man with a gun strapped to his waist. She recovered enough to offer him a limp wrist. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Jeff’s raven-black eyebrows lifted. “The pleasure is all mine.” His gaze shifted back to Kara. “Call me when your folks come in.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  “I’d join you, but Mayor White and I have rescheduled this meeting several times, and there are some things we need to discuss.”