To Get Me to You
“Which is?”
“To make them stop.”
“That’s a pretty big goal. Nobody’s ever managed it.”
“I think you’ll find I’m up to the task.” Proof of that fact pressed into her belly.
“You’re up to something.”
His smile spread, slow and wicked as he eased away from her to finish shedding the shirt.
Norah crossed one arm over her breast to hold the dress in place and offered a smile of her own as she backed away into one of the silvered squares of moonlight spilling through the intermittent skylights. From the shadows, she could feel Cam watching as she let the dress peel away, sliding down her body, until she stepped gingerly out of it.
“Sweet Mary, mother of God,” he breathed.
“I did a little shopping when I was in Oxford.”
His fingers reverently traced the line of the garters that held up the sheer, thigh high stockings. “If I’d known you were wearing this, we’d never have made it to the dance.”
“If I’d known everybody and their brother was going to treat tonight as another day at the office, I’d have said we could just skip it.” And yet something about the interruptions had felt good. Because it meant she was a part of something. That people trusted her enough to come to her for help.
“It’s part of being in the public eye. They’ll be back at it tomorrow. But not tonight. The rest of tonight is for us.”
He pulled her in, his broad palms skimming up the bare skin of her back as he took her mouth in a slow drugging kiss that blurred the details of the rest of the evening. He drew the straps of her bra down and away, baring her breasts. They felt full and heavy, cupped in his calloused palms. She pressed into his touch, sweeping her tongue into his mouth, inviting the same as she struggled to take control.
But he wouldn’t be rushed.
He stroked, tasted, and explored until her breath hitched and her legs trembled. Dizzy, she realized he’d lured her, one sexy step at a time into the bedroom. A wide shaft of moonlight haloed the bed. She wanted him there, wanted to watch the slick play of muscle as he moved inside her and they lost themselves to oblivion.
But Cam apparently had other ideas. He knelt before her, bringing her hands to his shoulders for balance as he slipped off first one shoe, then the other, until she stood, swaying a little in her stockinged feet. With more of that infinite patience, he detached one garter and began to roll the stocking down, following the trail with his lips.
“Christ, Cam, glaciers are faster than this.”
He ran a hand up her bared leg and slid a finger beneath the edge of her panties, stroking through the drenched heat. “But glaciers aren’t this hot.”
Norah’s legs jerked, and she swore at him as he chuckled, returning to the other stocking. She was going to incinerate before he ever finished. Every inch of her skin felt tight and hot as he finally slipped off the panties and garter belt.
He nudged her legs further apart, gripping just below her ass. “I’ve dreamed of having you like this, at my mercy.”
The heat of his breath against her sex caused another slow pull in her belly. “I’m not seeing a lot of mercy.”
“I haven’t even gotten started yet.” He pressed his mouth between her thighs.
The orgasm whipped through her like lightning. Gasping for breath, muscles quaking, Cam’s hold was the only thing keeping her upright. She rode the knife edge between pleasure and pain, her vision blurring as he sucked and licked and drove her ruthlessly, relentlessly up again.
At the cusp of that next, brutal peak, he stopped. Norah whimpered as he eased her back from the edge, rising from his crouch to lay her, at last, on the bed. A rustle of clothes, the rip of foil, and the mattress dipped beneath his weight as he came back to her, skin against glorious skin. Opening her arms, she got her wish, watching his face in the silvered light as he slid smoothly inside her. Home.
They held there, joined and trembling, and she stared into eyes gone dark with passion.
I love you.
It was too soon to say the words, but she lay one hand over his heart and threaded the other through the hair at his nape.
He began to move, a slow retreat and thrust that seated him deeper with every stroke. Her body arched, straining for more of that exquisite friction. She murmured his name, drawing him down to take his mouth. Sensation built upon sensation as he picked up speed, at last losing that infinite patience as he drove them up that final crest toward release. His breath went ragged, his body tensing. Wrapping her legs tight around his waist, she held him deep as he lost himself, and moments later flew joyfully over the edge behind him.
He weighed a ton. Her face pressed into his throat, breathing in the healthy scent of sweat and sex and Cam, Norah decided she was entirely okay with that. Her body felt loose and used and relaxed for—possibly the first time in her life. With a little purr, she stretched beneath him, running one foot up the back of his thigh.
“Well, you are nothing if not a man of your word.”
“Mmm?”
“Apparently mine wasn’t the only brain you obliterated.”
“You aren’t supposed to be able to form coherent sentences yet.”
She nuzzled his ear. “I’m an overachiever.”
“I’m starting to learn that about you. Give me a year or so, I’ll catch up.”
“You know, for once, I’m not on city speed. I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything but stay right here with you.” For maybe the rest of my life.
The realization had her heart kicking back into high gear. She wanted a life with him, wanted a future with him. And tonight had given her a glimpse of what that might look like. It wasn’t the kind of clear-cut plan she liked, more a glimmer of possibility. But she hugged that glimmer close to her heart as she held him close to her body. A secret wish.
It was terrifying and exhilarating. And when her practical side tried to point out the problems, Norah reminded herself that if it could happen anywhere, it could happen here. Wishful was, after all, a town where wishes came true.
Chapter 14
“…Oh, and we finally found a venue for that fund-raiser dinner,” Molly said. “Tom Thatcher’s going to host it at The Spring House. It is, unfortunately, a much smaller location, so we’re limited to about half the head count, but we’re working on ways to maximize that.”
“Then I need to finish drafting the press release for the regional newspapers.” Norah checked her watch for the fifteenth time before scanning the crowd assembled on the town green. Eighty three locals had shown in response to the call. The bulk were members of the coalition or related to someone who was. Several had tool belts slung around their hips. All were dressed for a day of hard, messy labor. While they were waiting for her instructions, most circulated through the line of the coffee station generously provided by Cassie Callister. Some of them for the second time.
It wasn’t enough people to execute her plan. Not by a long shot. Molly followed her gaze but said nothing about the turnout. This was Norah’s show, and the coalition chair was standing back, letting her run it.
Had her Hail Mary failed? Had the promise she’d elicited earlier in the week meant nothing? The timing hadn’t been awesome, what with today being the morning after Valentine’s Day, but she’d thought surely some of them would show.
Cam joined them where they stood across from City Hall. “The natives are getting restless.”
She checked her watch again. Nearly half an hour past time to start.
Cam reached up, began to knead at her shoulders, and she leaned into him, her mind taking a quick detour to how those hands had felt, slow and languid in the hour before dawn. The morning air wasn’t frigid enough to cool the blush that heated her cheeks.
“I think this is all we’re gonna get, Wonder Woman. We’d best prioritize the work that needs doing and see what we can manage with this group.”
Tearing her brain back to the issue at hand she said, “Just wait
a little bit longer.” Even she heard the trace of stubborn desperation in her voice.
“Honey, if you wait any longer, you’re gonna start losing your workforce.” He nodded to where a contingent had broken off and headed toward Sweet Magnolias. “We need to go ahead and get started with what we’ve got.”
Disappointment weighed heavy as she nodded. “Who’s got the bullhorn?”
Norah retrieved it from Liam. Stepping onto the ledge of the fountain, she put on her best cheerleader face as she called out, “Good morning! First off, I want to thank all of y’all for giving up your Saturday to work. We’ve got tons to do and a somewhat smaller group than expected, so it’s important that we prioritize our projects.” Since she’d been so closed-mouthed about her full plan, no one knew exactly how short they truly were on man power except for her co-conspirators, Mitch and Tyler. “The goal of this work weekend is to give downtown Wishful a makeover. We want to clean up and spiff up the area with much-needed curb appeal. In the long-term, we have plans to address each individual business on Main Street, but for today, we’re going to focus on the public spaces, those that will impact everybody.”
She gaged the level of interest and enthusiasm, scanning faces as she spoke. “We’re going to divide you into teams based on skill sets. Those with any sort of construction experience will be working with Mitch Campbell on things like external repairs and awning replacement. Another group will be pressure washing the sidewalks and building exteriors. Others will be on trash pick up. Others on painting, once the buildings dry from their washing. The gardeners among you will be working with Cam Crawford to get trees planted and new planter boxes installed and filled. On the front end, this is all about window dressing, making downtown appealing so people will want to stop in and stay a while. We want to get people in the door. And if, at the end of the day, we’ve still got time, we’ll revisit some of those individual businesses and see what we’re able to accomplish.”
“And how exactly are you going to prioritize those?” called a voice from the back. “Are you the person who will make the decision which businesses are important enough to move to the front of the line?”
Norah peered through the crowd, trying to find the speaker as several folks started nodding. She struggled to maintain a friendly face as she recognized Vick Burgess. Of course he’d show up trying to sow seeds of dissension when they were already low on workers.
“All the businesses will be addressed eventually. What gets dealt with today will depend upon how much time and man power is available once the main public spaces are complete.”
“But how will that be decided?”
She bit down on her temper as she noted more than a few people murmuring in agreement. They didn’t need his brand of bullshit today. She’d pulled these people together and they couldn’t afford to lose a single one. “Given our current turnout, the likelihood that we will make it past the public spaces today is highly unlikely. Speculation on what’s to be done next is a moot point until such a time as we know we have the opportunity to do additional work. Those business owners who are in the greatest hurry are free to come speak to me after work assignments have been passed out. We’ll see what we can work out.”
“Why don’t you just admit you’ve bitten off more than you can chew with this project of yours? It’s pretty cruel to get everybody’s hopes up and then renege on your promises.”
She was going to kill him. Surely nobody would blame her if he turned up floating in Hope Springs. Except it seemed a shame to taint the springs.
“Listen—” Before she could actually give voice to the insult all but choking to get out, someone laid on their car horn. Norah turned to see an aging Grand Cherokee turning onto Main Street. Behind it came a procession of other unfamiliar vehicles. As the Jeep pulled to the curb, a blonde head rose up out of the sun roof, and Norah began to smile.
“Sorry we’re late!” the girl called. “Last night’s formal ran a little later than expected and we had to make a stop to roust out the boys. We didn’t figure you’d mind if we brought some friends.”
“The more the merrier,” Norah shouted, leaping down from her post and crossing to the newcomer. Cam followed, close on her heels.
“Where should we park?”
“Tucker!” Norah called.
He bounded over, taking in the line of idling cars. “Yes’m?”
“Will you direct our volunteers over to Church Street? I’ve already cleared it with First Baptist and First Methodist to use their parking lots.”
The girl dropped back through the sun roof and opened the back passenger door, offering her seat to Tucker. “Hop on in.”
The Jeep pulled away from the curb and led the caravan around the green and off again. Behind her, the townsfolk stared as vehicle after vehicle rolled past.
“Who are all these people?” Cam stared in no little bit of awe.
Norah grinned up at him. “The cavalry.” She turned to introduce him to the bouncy blonde in a pink hoodie with Ole Miss stitched across the front and an anchor embroidered on one side. “Cam, I’d like you to meet Chelsea Patterson, junior marketing major at Ole Miss and current chair of public relations for Delta Gamma.”
Cam shook her hand and offered a confused smile. “I still don’t understand.”
“I was the DG PR chair back when I was at Ole Miss. Part of that job has to do with organizing philanthropic activities. At their heart, sororities are service organizations and members are expected to put in a certain number of service hours each semester. I went up to Oxford on Tuesday to meet with my old chapter to offer up this service opportunity.”
“We weren’t about to turn down a request for help from one of our most distinguished alumnae,” Chelsea said.
“So who exactly were these extras you recruited?”
“Oh, well Lacey—she’s our chapter president,” Chelsea added for Cam’s benefit, “—is dating the president of Sigma Chi, so she talked him into offering up his chapter for slave labor today.”
“Strong backs are more than welcome.”
Chelsea flashed a satisfied smile. “Aaaaand I called up our sister chapter at MSU to set up a little friendly competition. They should be here, right about…now.” She pointed to the opposite side of the green where a second string of vehicles led by a Toyota flying maroon and white window flags was coming to a stop at the opposite curb.
Norah swung an arm around the girl’s shoulders and sent up a prayer of thanks. “Chelsea, you’re a woman after my own heart.”
It took another half hour for everybody to park. They far outstripped the space available on Church Street. By the time everybody had walked back to the green, cars were lining the entire downtown area, including all the cross streets, and the crowd had swelled to nearly twice the force she’d originally expected.
Norah took up her bullhorn again. “Before we get started today, I’d like to offer up a warm Wishful welcome to the Delta Gammas from Ole Miss!” The girls cheered. “The Sigma Chis from Ole Miss!” The guys hooted and shouted. “And the Delta Gammas from Mississippi State!” The girls hollered and clapped. “I’d like to thank you all so much for coming. For those of you who don’t know, my name is Norah Burke, and I’m your de facto general for the day. Now that the remainder of our army has arrived, here’s our revised plan.”
Norah took great pleasure in the sour expression on Vick’s face as she laid out the full scope of her vision. She took even more in the infectious enthusiasm of her cavalry as it spread to the locals.
“Before you leave today, each of you should stop by and see Richard Patton to give your name and T-shirt size. Richard wave for everybody.” The wiry, balding owner of the print shop lifted a hand. “You’ll be getting a free commemorative shirt for your efforts! And now I’m going to turn you over to Molly Montgomery, who will divide you into groups.” Norah stepped down and handed off the bullhorn.
Cam fell into step with her as she circled around the crowd. “Not to be a bu
zz kill, but who’s going to pay for all those shirts?”
“I intend to sweet talk all the local businesses who are getting makeovers today into donating toward the effort. Their logos will go on the shirt. That’s two hundred and fifty walking advertisements out there, to go along with the free labor. That’s what you call a good investment. We’re going to pull this off in spades. Vick can just stick that in his pipe and smoke it.”
~*~
It got worse before it got better. Old awnings came down, old paint was knocked off with the dirt when many of the buildings were washed, and more than one downtown business was in total chaos, filled with bodies shifting displays, cleaning, rearranging stock. Cam hoped like hell none of their volunteers decided to employ the five-finger discount.
Norah caught him staring in horror at all the furniture being hauled out of Lickety Split and turned him firmly away. “It’s all getting repainted.”
Similar forms of disorder appeared to be going on inside every business. “The chaos, it burns.” He shuddered
“I know, I know. The disorganization offends your sensibilities. There is a plan for each and every one. I swear. Tyler, Mitch, and I worked it out before we ever started.”
“If you say so.” He didn’t bother to hide the skepticism.
She gave him a smacking kiss. “Go play in the dirt and leave the organizing to us. And maybe use the opportunity to charm some of your compatriots on the Council.” She nodded to where Grace Handeford and Hank van Buren were listening closely as Violet instructed them on the proper means of planting a multi-season hanging basket. “I had Molly put them on your team, just in case.”
“Sneaky sneaky. I like that about you.”
With a saucy wink she left him, calling out for Dillon, who had a pair of chairs from the ice cream parlor tucked under either arm.
Cam crossed over to join his official crew for the day.
He had twenty people to manage, most of whom were regulars at the nursery. Four of them were on the Black List and not allowed to touch any plants they hadn’t already paid for—per Violet’s orders. Since the object of this project was downtown beautification, Cam wasn’t going to argue with her. It wouldn’t do for everything those folks planted to wither up and die in two days, as their track records suggested. He put them to work mounting the special brackets they’d ordered on the light posts running the length of Main Street. Violet had the hanging basket and planter folks well in hand, so the remaining few were designated tree planters. Which would’ve been fine if the damned tree spade on the Bobcat hadn’t blown a valve. With that one, single problem, a couple hours of work turned into an impossible task.