Ashley pocketed every bunch Duane removed, slipping them into her bag. She planned to hang them up all over Drew’s house. She wanted to catch him unawares for the next week before she had to fly back to Chicago.
She really was planning to move back to Tennessee and hoped to return for good no later than the end of March. I was glad to hear it because it would give us a few months of getting acquainted before Duane and I were off. Plus I still thought these boys needed someone. They needed a good woman to keep them safe, and Ashley already loved them with her heart and soul.
Dinner was nice. Actually, it was great. The boys were lively and animated, telling stories about Ashley and Duane, hoping to embarrass their siblings. This may have worked for Ashley, but I already knew most of the stories they told about Duane. Therefore I didn’t hesitate jumping in and adding details they missed.
My eagerness earned me high fives from his siblings, but only heated glares from Duane. And it was totally worth it. Each hot look ignited a simmering thrill low in my belly because each promised delicious retribution. I had a feeling I was going to enjoy his version of revenge.
After dinner I served my four kinds of pie. When all the dust settled, not a single slice remained. Truly, there is no feeling quite like making four pies and leaving with no leftovers.
Dessert was followed by an impromptu family concert. Cletus played his banjo and Drew accompanied on his guitar while Billy and Ashley sang folk duets of Christmas classics. They looked like twins, Ashley and Billy; and their harmonies were beautiful, like they’d been singing together all their life, like they knew each other from the inside out. I guess, when I reflected on it, they did.
From the time the music started until it ended, Duane had me wrapped in his arms on his lap. I leaned into him, enjoying his easy affection. He touched me with contentment, with wistful sighs and smiles, melting my heart with each cherishing pass of his fingers through my hair and stroke of my back.
Midnight came and went. Around 1:30 a.m. Duane told me it was time to go. Leaving took another twenty minutes as sleepy hugs were handed out and Ashley made me promise to have lunch with her before she flew back to Chicago. The entire brood gathered on the porch to wave as Duane pulled the Mustang out of the drive and turned on Moth Run.
I yawned, eyeballing Duane in his bucket seat.
“I miss the Road Runner,” I said, my words a little slurred because I was dead tired.
“Why?”
“Because it was a bench seat. This car has bucket seats.”
“Fair point.” He nodded solemnly, then took the turn off for the cabin.
I gave him a small smile and shook my head. He hadn’t mentioned we’d be staying the night at the cabin, hadn’t discussed his plans with me, but couldn’t say I was surprised. He’d been doing this with regularity over the last month, taking us out to his fortress of solitude.
Sometimes we’d have picnics, go on walks, talk, play cards. The cabin was where we’d discuss my Aunt Louisa and my feelings on the subject. I’d lost it a few times, cried tears I didn’t know I needed to cry. And he’d held me close, reassuring me that I was wonderful and her absence in my life was her loss. I talked through my messes and he listened, giving advice if and when I asked. He talked through his frustrations and I listened, giving advice if and when he asked.
But most of the time we ripped each other’s clothes off.
Yep. That’s what we did. And I finally got to spend some quality time with his buttocks, thighs, and calves. They were wonderful.
Duane pulled up to the stone steps and cut the ignition, then jogged around to my side of the car. I was barely on my feet before he swept me up into his arms and kicked the door closed behind him. I snuggled against his broad chest and placed a kiss on his neck; meanwhile, he had the keys ready and unlocked the cabin door, crossed to the bed, and placed me gently on top of the covers.
I sat up and fumbled to remove my clothes, the room spinning a tad, likely the effect of too much moonshine eggnog and the late hour. Duane quickly built a fire and turned back to me when he was done, giving me a pleased grin when he saw I was naked except for my socks.
“Get under the covers,” he said, peeling off his own clothes.
I did as he instructed. My eyes were heavy but I managed to keep them open long enough to watch him undress.
Sleepy tipsiness meant I was saying and thinking in tandem, “I like watching you take off your clothes, it’s like unwrapping a present.”
My stream of consciousness nonsense was rewarded with a broad smile, his glittering sapphire eyes just visible in the dim cabin.
“How do you think I feel? Having you to myself, naked? It’s like winning the lottery.”
I giggled at this and turned my face into the soft pillow. A moment later the bed dipped and I felt him climb in next to me, one of his legs moving between mine, his strong arms bringing my chest against his, and his hands smoothing down my body.