Authors: D. T. Jones
“What about the rest of their property, and the livestock?”
“The only way I was able to get your grandfather to agree to the money I offered was to tell him it was for this land as well. Once he thought that I was willing to buy his farm so he could move or live without worry of finances, he agreed to the sale. I couldn’t convince him his land was worth far more than Nelson was suggesting.”
“So you own their farm?”
“We own their farm; remember, you’re my wife and therefore you own half of everything I do.”
“I don’t know if I should be angry or happy that
you saved my grandparents a life of hard work in their elderly years.”
“Sandra, it’s good business sense,” he explained, eager to stop any further arguments from erupting. “We need someplace to house the wo
rkers once the factory is built and I cannot in good conscious encourage our employees to work in an eco-friendly environment while allowing them to commute twenty or even fifty miles. I can and will arrange for a shuttle to pick them up if they live in neighboring towns, but if there is affordable housing here, it would make sense that many will want to purchase a home close to their jobs. By doing so, they become a part of the solution rather than making the problem worse. The greenhouse gases belongs to all of us and we all have to work together to make the world a better place.”
“It does make sense, I agree with that, but I’m worried about my grandparents.”
“We’ll talk to them when they return,” he suggested calmly. “If this is truly something they want, if they want to spend the remainder of their lives in England with you and our children, then will you agree to the idea? I won’t move forward with this unless you’re a part of the decision.”
“If it is what they want and they don’t feel like they are being coerced, then yes, I’ll agree with your plans. But only if Andrew can’t find anything to indicate Angela Meacham was murdered in that house.”
“Good,” he said with a smile as the front bell rang. “Then we’ll discuss it when they get back and see what happens from there. I don’t want to push them out of their home if they really don’t want to go.”
Sandra nodded and stood, walking down the hallway to the front door where she found Michael Farnsworth and Harold Anderson, the planning commissioner, standing on the front porch.
Smiling, she stepped aside and allowed the men to enter the house, watching Creighton shake their hands in turn. It had always been a custom for guests to adjourn to the kitchen; it was an old country tradition, so Sandra led them to the room down the hall and poured each a cup of coffee as they sat at the table.
“The
town hasn’t stopped talking about everything that happened yesterday,” Michael said with a smile.
“I’m sure Nelson will be the headliner for many weeks to come,” Creighton said, watching his young bride as she joined them.
“So how’s it feel to be home?” Harold asked Sandra, taking an oatmeal raisin cookie from the plate in front of him.
“It’s great, though my home is now in England.”
“You’ll always be a child of two worlds,” Michael added, taking a cookie and biting into the soft, sweet treat. He looked up to Creighton and smiled again. “So, are you ready to do business?”
“Depends on what your commissioner says,” he
replied. “And only if there have been no short cuts or special privileges offered.”
“No sir,” Harold remarked
, taking a drink of his coffee. “Your people had everythin’ in order before ya even arrived. All we had ta do was fill in the blanks and stamp our approval.”
“So has it been approved?” Creighton asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Like I said yesterday,” Michael stepped in. “You have taken into account the wetland and the preservations and codes we have in place. I’m impressed; we have had a number of prospective businesses who wanted to build in Hoisington, but your company is the only one willing to do what it takes to protect our natural resources.”
“That’s the backbone of NHT; the environment is very important to me and I will do whatever is necessary to reduce mankind’s carbon footprint on this planet.”
“Well, if you’re ready to make it happen, then Hoisington welcomes you.”
Creighton shook Michael’s hand and smiled, turning to Harold
before glancing back to Sandra.
“How do you feel about this
my love?” he asked with a wink.
“I’ve already told you
, I don’t understand your business and I think it’s crazy to build a solar energy plant in the eye of a tornado,” she told him with a deep sigh.
“
Ain’t ya seen the plans fer the factory?” Harold asked with a frown.
“Sandra isn’t ready to move into the finan
cial side of our relationship yet.” Creighton smiled as she blushed. “I’m not sure if she really understands what she’s gotten herself involved in.”
“I’ve known Sandy since she was barely old enough to crawl,” Michael said, a teasing smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “She has always been a unique woman, but
with the exception of preparing a budget for the
libbery
, she’s never been one to involve herself with the financial side of life. She has always liked life on a simpler basis.” The three gathered smiled as her blush deepened.
“That’s one of the things I love best about her,” Creighton told them with a seductive grin. “Sandra has a purity very few possess; it’s as rare as the most precious of stones.” The room was silent for a few moments as the young couple stared at each other, then quickly turned back to the two men staring at them.
“So, the plans are approved?” Creighton asked through a tone slightly deeper than it had been a moment ago. Harold and Michael nodded in unison. “I will need to hire a team of workers who can do the job quickly and to my specifications. Do you have anyone in mind to fit the bill?”
“We have several strong workers, but only one construction firm,” Michael added, picking up a second cookie. “There may be a problem there, however. The owner is Nelson’s brother-in-law.”
“I would like to meet with him. I have a good sense of judgment; it’s a necessity for my line of business. If we cannot strike a deal, then we will hire outside of town.”
Michael nodded
again, smiling his admiration. There was something unique about this European man; rare and honest. The type of man Hoisington was looking for in a business owner.
“I believe there are a few things we need to discuss,” Creighton said later that afternoon as they cleaned up the kitchen of Sandra’s grandparents’ house. The older couple had yet to return, leaving them to enjoy the comfort and silence of the old Victorian house alone. They had discussed the donations of Sandra’s furniture and clothing with Michael and decided on giving them to the church to distribute among the local citizens who were in need. That left barely a dozen boxes for her to take back to England; items that included memorabilia of her parents, trophies from her youth and special knick-knacks and gifts given to her over the years.
“The only thing I wish to discuss with you sir, is what you would like for supper?” Sandra smiled, pulling her grandparents’
fridge open and rummaging through the freezer. “There are pork chops, would you like those? I know Papa loves them.”
“If you would like, I’m not that picky.” Creighton leaned against the sink and folded his arms across his chest, watching as she gathered the meat, then
stooped down and took the five large potatoes Mary had Creighton dig up earlier that afternoon from the garden. She placed the items in the sink next to him and began scrubbing the potatoes, preparing them for baking.
“So, dare I ask what I did this time to make you feel you have to discuss things with me?” she asked with a sly grin.
“You haven’t done anything,” he said innocently. “Just because I need to talk with you doesn’t mean you’re in trouble.”
“Just wanted to make certain my backside would be
safe until we got back to the motel.” Creighton groaned softly, closing his eyes as visions of her lying across his lap naked filtered through his mind.
“
I’ll not spank you, not while you’re pregnant. I won’t risk any harm to either you or our baby.” Sandra frowned, turning to look at him. Granted, she wasn’t keen on corporal punishment, but his version of spanking was erotic and she got hot just thinking about it.
“I don’t think I like that idea,” she answered honestly. “I know how much you like beating me.”
“I do not beat you,” he frowned, watching the smile cross her face.
“Admit it, you’re a brute and you love to abuse my bottom eve
ry chance you get. You’ve said it before; if you had your choice, I’d remain naked and at your disposal, and I’m quite certain that includes my ass.” Creighton took her wet hands in his and turned her to face him, a frown creasing his brow and a serious expression making his jaw tighten.
“You don’t think that do you?” he asked gently. “You know I would never hurt you.”
“I know it. I was just teasing. Besides, I rather like the way you spank me, though don’t expect me to ever admit it again.” The tension relaxed out of his face and he smiled, leaning his forehead against hers.
“You are my angel,” he whispered to her, kissing her cheek and pulling her into his embrace. “I have never loved another as desperately as I do you.”
“Then stop worrying,” she whispered, closing her eyes when his lips began moving across her cheek and down her neck.
“I would never survive if anything happened to you, especially at my own hand.”
“The only thing that will happen is that I fall further in love with you.” Creighton’s lips found hers in an instant, claiming them as his own. Their tongues caressed each other with a passion that only true lovers possessed. As the heat between them began to grow, so did their bravery and Creighton suddenly lifted her in his arms and set her on the table, his mouth never breaking contact with her lips.
His hands quickly slid beneath her shirt, unfastening the front closure of her bra before he
finally pulled away from her, his lips traveling with an urgency that controlled his actions; moving down her neck to her breasts as he lifted her shirt up. Sandra moaned, her hands bracing on the strong shoulders, when he slowly lowered her to the bare wood of the century-old table.
“I want you now,” he whispered, unfastening her pants as she unzipped his.
Within a split second he was buried inside her, easing in and out of her tight body with a fever that seemed to possess his actions; his mouth claiming her swollen breast, her legs wrapping around his bare hips. She took him in deeper, moaning as he thrust against her hard. The seconds ticked by on the old kitchen clock while the heat of the day increased the sweat that erupted on her delicate body. Their hearts pounded within their chests to a rhythm they knew all too well. The soft sound of their lungs struggling for air echoed around the stillness in the form of low grunting pants and Sandra found the familiar dizzy sensations begin to grow. Her eyes closed when she felt his hard penis thicken inside her and she knew what was coming.
A
few quick thrusts was all it took before she found herself climaxing around him, his deep growl bouncing off the old stone walls as he spilled his heat into her. They clung together for several long seconds until the sound of car doors echoed in the driveway.
“Oh my God,” Sandra gasped and quickly gathered her clothes as he helped her off the table. She ran into the laundry room as Creighton pulled his pants up
just in time to hear the front door open. He turned his back to the room and continued her task of preparing the potatoes for baking, holding his breath in an attempt steady his rapid breathing and to slow his heartbeat.
“Hello,” James said as he and Mary entered the room.
“Hello,” Creighton answered, glancing over his shoulder. “How was bowling?”
“Great, you should try it sometime. We may not have the best team in the region, but we’re pretty damned good. Came in first tonight though.”
“Congratulations,” the younger man said as the laundry room door opened and Sandra stepped out, thankful the pantry was on the other side of the washer and dryer.
“Hello honey,” Mary said, frowning at the flushed look on her face. “Are you alright?”
“Yes…of course…why do you ask?” Sandra stuttered as she walked back into the kitchen carrying the home canned peaches and a can of cream corn.
“You look…hot.”
“It’s Kansas, Nana, it’s always hot.”
“Why didn’t you turn on the fan?” James asked
in a scolding tone as he walked over to the window air conditioner and flipping on the switch. The room fell into a friendly chatter as they relayed the events of their day with each other. Creighton helped Sandra season the pork chops and place them on the pan for broiling, then positioned the potatoes in a baking dish.
James stepped up beside
his new grandson to get a cup of coffee and smiled, leaning in to speak softly as Sandra relayed their plans for her belongings to her grandmother.
“The barn door is open,” he whispered causing Creighton to frown and glance out the window to the barn behind the house, seeing the
closed door. “Zip up man, don’t want the old woman catching on, do you?” Creighton turned a deep shade of red, turning his back to the room as he stood in front of the sink again, and pulled the zipper to his pants up.