She collapsed, and he caught her and gently rolled her onto her back to his right side. Drake nuzzled against her neck, planting soft kisses there while his hand went to her breast, where his thumb gently stroked her nipple.
They remained that way for several minutes, content to be in that space between love and lust, sleep and consciousness. Cara floated there in awe and gratitude, amazed at her sexual response to Drake and his unorthodox (at least in her experience) method of satisfying her.
“Ready for a little more fun?” he asked as he moved his hand across the taut expanse of her tummy.
“How can you top what you just did?”
“You should know I love a challenge.”
He slipped his hand under a pillow and pulled out a condom packet, causing her to laugh.
“Prepared. As usual.” She watched as he rolled on the condom.
His eyes darkened as he loomed over her.
“No secret that I’ve thought about this moment for weeks, Cara Forrest. I would’ve made love to you that day in my Jeep in Littleham if you’d given me the chance.”
“Now’s your chance,” she said, guiding him inside her.
He shuddered and closed his eyes as they joined, and she smiled at his response. Placing her hands on his lower back, Cara was happy to let him set the pace.
When his lids slowly opened and she saw the glint of those bright blue eyes, it was her turn to shiver.
Drake moved slowly but deeply, his head dipping to her neck to plant kisses while the thumb of one hand stroked a nipple. Cara closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her, overtake her.
Oh, was he good. Which shouldn’t have been any surprise after her first orgasm of the night. She knew there would be another. The tenseness was already building, her legs beginning to quiver, as Drake increased the frequency of his thrusts and brought a hand between their bodies to stroke her.
Cara’s hips flexed upward to meet his fingers as well as his length, her body arching, her head pushing deep into the pillow. Her chest rose as her breathing became ragged, her breasts pressing into his chest.
Drake’s growl followed by a groan, coupled with the stiffening of his form announced he’d climaxed. The knowledge, accompanied by his continuing movements, pushed Cara over the edge as well once more that night.
Her body felt liquid, dissolved from emotional and physical exhaustion as well as the increasing heat in the cabin. Drake collapsed onto her, his breath shuddering in her ear before turning to kiss her on the cheek. With effort, he propped himself up over her.
There was nothing to say as he brushed her hair away from her face, then kissed her, their communion complete in that moment, the gorgeous silence that enveloped them a benediction.
13
A few months ago, the thought of getting an interview with the Judicial Nominating Commission for an open spot on the Court of Appeals would’ve been the most wonderful thing Cara could have imagined outside getting the appointment itself.
But falling in love with Drake had changed her perspective on what was truly wonderful.
He was sweet, tender, kind, and attentive and loved both Nate and Vera. He’d even taught her how to canoe and kayak at her request and had helped her purchase some appropriate gear. Since both Drake and Nate were drawn to the water, she had decided she needed to learn some more about the activities. The attraction of the pastime was evident on her first trip down Old Crow Creek with Drake as her companion and teacher. There was something spiritual and calming about being on the water.
He’d finally shown her his house—very tidy for a bachelor pad—and they’d made love there several times over the past weeks. It was nicely convenient since he only lived a few blocks from her house, and getting home late was not a problem, despite her desire to stay in his arms all night. He was still in negotiations to buy a place out on Brush Grove Pike, a large, rambling piece of property with the creek as a boundary.
The notion excited yet alarmed her. She knew he was interested in moving to a more rural spot and out of the city, but being near that creek did frighten her since she could foresee Nate running around on the land.
And when she had that thought, another entered her head.
This relationship was long-term.
She often heard that outdated voice in her head screaming husband material (and, in fact, the voice was getting louder) even though they had not yet confessed to the other they were in love. Cara sensed that time was coming, maybe as soon as Labor Day weekend, should they get the chance.
The problem was timing.
On that Saturday of the holiday weekend, Drake was going on a run down Brush Grove and Old Crow Creeks to the distillery with a group as a sort of trial run for the tours they were calling Water of Life excursions. The title was a nod to the kayaking aspect as well as the ancient Gaelic name for whiskey, uisce beatha, the same words found on the Old Garnet logo. The group was to set off from the nature preserve, stop at The Cooperage for a snack, and then head to the distillery for a tour, lunch, and tasting. Drake had promised to spend Saturday night with her, but she expected he would be exhausted. They had no firm plans for the evening other than to get together.
Her campaign committee, with Hannah at the helm, had swung into full force, contacting scores of people in the appellate judicial district to drum up support. Hannah, Harriet, and Jon regularly reported good news to her about getting people on board for her bid for higher office.
And both Vera and Nate had fallen in love with Drake.
Cara had thought no man would ever satisfy her mother when it came to getting her approval for her widowed daughter’s hand, but she’d been wrong. It didn’t hurt that Drake regularly brought not only flowers for her but little gifts for both Vera and Nate and made sure to include them on a few “dates.” They had gone out to eat a few times at The Windmill, just like a family.
And that’s what they were becoming.
But she should’ve known there would be a downside, a karmic payment for the little slice of happiness she’d finally been enjoying.
She’d gone to her interview with the Judicial Nominating Committee nervous yet reasonably optimistic about her chances. But after initial expected inquiries about her background and experience, the interview had morphed into something unpleasant.
They knew she was dating an attorney—no doubt they’d gotten that information from none other than the smarmy Judge Robson or his supporters. Yet their questions had implied that she hadn’t recused from Drake’s cases in a timely manner, that the two of them had started dating weeks earlier and that only when he joined her campaign committee did she finally take that step to enter the recusal order.
Cara had vehemently denied the accusation, her mind racing as to how they could’ve gotten the notion. She had gone to great lengths after the kissing and cuddling in the Jeep to distance herself from Drake, taking care to be professional and very cautious in the courtroom when he had cases before her. Cara in fact pointed out to the committee that she had ruled against Drake in several matters over the summer, pointing in particular to the case Drake had taken up on appeal to the Court of Appeals.
In those weeks between the May encounter in Littleham and their summer nighttime meeting at the city park, Cara hadn’t thought that she’d ever be in a relationship with Drake. The idea of recusing herself from any of his cases due to a few kisses had never entered her mind.
As she drove back to Craig County from Frankfort, where she’d had the interview with the Commission in a dark wooden paneled room in the state capitol building, her mind raced. Had someone found out about that little assignation in the Jeep that hot May afternoon and—
CiCi?
Did someone let slip to the Gossip Queen of Craig County, Kentucky that she and Drake had exchanged more than polite conversation back in May?
She hadn’t talked much with CiCi lately. The clerk had been out a lot during the summer, and Cara feared she was having health problems. CiCi had conf
ided once that she suffered from endometriosis, and Cara knew that could be a very painful condition, particularly as one aged.
But on that day as she returned to the Craig County Courthouse in high dudgeon, Cara sensed she needed to ask CiCi whether she’d heard any rumors about the tenure of her relationship with Drake.
“Hey! You’re back!” CiCi exclaimed when Cara knocked on her door. “Come on in and tell me how it went!”
“It could’ve gone better,” Cara lamented.
She shut the door, sat, and told her story.
“They really think you had some kind of secret thing going with Drake for weeks before you recused? That’s bullshit! Where’d they get such an idea?”
“Wish I knew. We didn’t start dating until I recused myself from his cases.” She explained how they had met in the park that one night, but she left out the part about the kisses in Littleham.
“So that means someone’s making up tales about you. You’d think that your ruling against Drake in that one case would be proof enough you’re not playing favorites.”
“No use trying to use logic against the force of gossip,” Cara countered.
“So that means Garner Robson and his cronies probably made it up,” CiCi griped, sitting back in her seat, her arms resting atop the armrests of her office chair.
CiCi was probably right. And while Cara was angry with the situation, she was just as equally uncomfortable with the personal animosity flowing from the woman sitting in front of her.
Now that she was entangled in a possible narrative of personal revenge when it came to CiCi’s sister-in-law, Cara wanted to know more.
“Tell me what happened between Nina and Garner,” Cara demanded. “I’m completely in the dark. If Garner is willing to spread tales about me, I should at least know the truth when it comes to him.”
“Cara, that’s someone else’s story to tell,” CiCi protested.
“Maybe it was before I got drafted as a candidate for the bench. But I’ve put myself out there up against a political powerhouse like Garner Robson. I want to know what he did, at least from your point of view.”
“Are you going to use it against him?” CiCi asked.
“I wouldn’t tell it to the press, but I’d certainly tell it to his face that I know what he is. But all I know is that he apparently betrayed your sister-in-law. So I’m not fully armed for battle.”
CiCi’s shoulders fell, and she sighed. She leaned forward on the desk, picked up a paper clip, and began to bend it into obsolescence.
“Last summer, around a year ago, Nina and Garner broke up. I was shocked. They’d been together for years, and I thought they’d be engaged soon. To make matters worse, Nina had a biking accident at the same time. It wasn’t serious, but she spent a night in the hospital for observation. I don’t think Garner even showed up. If he did, she never said so; I found out about the breakup after the accident. Then less than a month later, Garner’s dating Penny Smithers, a rich lobbyist from eastern Kentucky. The next month they’re married. It wasn’t two months from breakup to wedding bells and a baby on the way for Garner.”
Cara sighed and sat back in her seat. “Poor Nina…”
“Tell me about it,” CiCi said, her voice strained. “She’s not over him, and she’s not dated anyone to my knowledge since Garner.”
“Is it as bad as it looks? Dumping the girlfriend to go after the rich, connected gal?”
“Sure looks that way to me. Garner’s rich, but so is his wife. And even though he was already hyperconnected, the combination of her money and connections…” CiCi stopped and shook her head disgustedly.
“Does Nina ever talk about him?”
“If you’d been betrayed on that scale, would you?”
That shut Cara down on any further inquiries into the likely tortured soul of Nina Cain, someone she barely knew. But Cara still had other concerns.
“This is going to be blunt, but I have to ask it, CiCi,” she said with hint of apology in her voice. “Was the idea to support me for the open seat on the Court of Appeals payback against Garner? I know that you and Walker have to be close to the Davenports and—”
“No, Cara, please don’t think that,” CiCi said, coming out from behind her desk and taking the seat next to Cara.
“But Hannah and Harriet knew about Nina’s situation?”
“Of course they did. I told Hannah and Harriet all about it. They both knew Garner since they were both attorneys—I think Harriet and Garner were in law school at the same time—and they both reported that he was a jerk back when they knew him. So when the open seat on the Court of Appeals came along, Hannah called me as soon as she heard. She suggested your name, and I thought it was a great idea.”
“Did she mention Garner in that conversation?”
“Yes,” CiCi admitted. “Something like ‘that man has no business on the bench, much less on an appellate court.’”
Cara put her head in her hands. She had a headache, was tired from the long drive, and she had just learned the genesis of her judicial campaign was born of revenge.
“So I’m just a tool to extract some kind of justice,” Cara said into her hands.
“Wrong, Cara,” CiCi said. “Look at it from Hannah’s point of view.”
“Why hers?”
“Because Hannah’s a smart, powerful woman who doesn’t like to see others used or abused. She knows what it’s like to feel alone and ridiculed. Although she’s never told me this, I think the fact that her father didn’t see fit to leave her an equal share in Old Garnet still hurts to this day. And on some level, it seems she’s on a mission to set things right to the degree she can for women in this world.
“So when she sees someone like Garner take advantage of someone who loved him and then apparently prosper in spite of his misdeeds, that’s not going to sit right with Hannah Davenport. And you’re the perfect candidate to go up against him. Smart, articulate, a local and damned nice. Don’t forget that the Davenports are probably the biggest cheerleaders for Craig County and the people here. They’ve almost single-handedly put the town on the map as a tourist destination with the visitors’ center and the tours with GarnetBrooke, not to mention the Mack Blanton concerts.”
“That just makes me sound like the piece of a puzzle.”
“Well, you are. We all are. We’re all just one member of this community, and sometimes we might be a little more important than others. We all have our roles to play at different times.”
Cara chewed her lip, trying to understand what CiCi was saying. The revenge aspect of what was happening gnawed at her.
“I don’t like how it feels.”
“Good,” CiCi said. “I’d think something was wrong with you if you didn’t like it. But remember that everything isn’t black and white. Even the best of motives might have the tinge of something less than savory about them even if the result desired is for the greater good.”
“Sounds like you’re saying I’ve been a judge too long.” Cara laughed. “I’m supposed to decide—someone wins, someone loses, next case.”
“But you also know that life isn’t that simple. And certainly not politics.”
Cara knew CiCi was right and she would have to deal with the personal aspect of the campaign as best she could—and that included not only the story of Nina’s apparent betrayal in the background but the falsehood now being put abroad about herself and Drake.
“I’d better call Hannah and tell her how it went,” Cara said, standing. “She’s not going to be happy.”
CiCi stood and smirked.
“Then stand back, watch, and enjoy what happens,” she said.
“Congratulations, I think we’ve got a deal,” said Sam Showalter, Drake’s real estate agent.
They stood on the back porch of the house Drake had been trying to buy for months. The view below them was the lush, sloping acreage toward Brush Grove Creek. Across the stream and far into the distance was the rolling land of the nature preserve, rising to
meet a sky punctuated by soft clouds. To the left and west were the Knobs, jutting upward from the edge of the Bluegrass.
It was heaven, and someone was giving him the keys.
“So they accepted the offer?” Drake said, taking Sam’s proffered hand and shaking it vigorously.
“I think those folks were finally ready to let this place go. They’re tired of the upkeep, the negotiating. If you can get that loan lined up, this place will be yours in a month or two.”
“I’ve got the loan, so no worries there,” Drake said.
Although he’d saved a lot of money and had substantial equity in his small home on the outskirts of downtown Bourbon Springs, buying the property on Brush Grove Pike still would require an extra infusion of cash. To that end, Drake had quietly approached Hannah after one of the meetings the past week about the first Water of Life tour, set for the following day. Recalling that Hannah had worked at the bank years ago, he’d asked for a reference, and she’d given him the name of a mortgage officer.
Drake walked to the edge of the porch and smiled broadly. This place was finally going to be his, creek and all. He could put his kayak in the water and be at the confluence in minutes. The nature preserve was right across the creek, and he had already pictured himself, along with Cara and Nate, canoeing down the stream to the new gazebo with a picnic lunch.
He hoped Cara would let the boy near the water. But after Nate’s last encounter with Brush Grove Creek, it would take quite some time for her to warm to the idea of letting Nate anywhere near the stream or a boat.
But he had time. He had found what he wanted.
Although they’d only been dating for a few weeks, they’d known each other for years. And the more he thought about Cara, the more he realized that his infatuation with her stretched back at least as far Albert and Lucy’s wedding at the end of the previous year.
Sam slapped him on the back, jolting him from his thoughts.
Bourbon Springs Box Set: Volume III, Books 7-9 (Bourbon Springs Box Sets Book 3) Page 69