Линси Сэндс - Meant to Be Immortal [calibre]

“What?” he called, staying right where he was.

Bricker opened the screen door and popped his head in, his eyebrows rising when he took in their position. “Marguerite sent me to remind you that we have to leave by nine thirty to put the RV on the ferry before they start letting foot traffic on.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

Bricker narrowed his eyes. “You two have an hour and a half to get ready.”

“Okay,” Mac said grimly.

“Yeah. I’ll come wake you up and remind you of that in half an hour,” Bricker said dryly, and retreated, letting the door close.

CJ was just turning from watching the man go when Mac scooped her up off the table and headed for the bedroom. Hiding her disappointment, she muttered, “I suppose we should close up the cottage and get ready to go.”

Mac shook his head, carried her to the bed, and tossed her on it before turning to the bedside table. He was holding up a condom packet when he turned back. “You heard him,” he said, and then paused to tear the packet open with his teeth, before saying, “We have half an hour before he comes to wake us up. We can get ready then.”

“Oh,” CJ breathed as she watched him quickly roll the condom on. It was an oddly erotic thing to see, she decided, and then opened her arms when he started to climb onto the bed. They had half an hour. They only needed probably three minutes before they’d both be orgasming and passing out like Victorian misses. CJ had never experienced such intense sex. It was amazing, but appallingly short-lived each time. She’d be embarrassed by their pitiful performance if it wasn’t so damned hot. But seriously, if they were porn stars, the sex tapes would be about the length of a commercial. How pathetic was that?

“Not pathetic at all,” she gasped as he took her into his arms and slid into her at once.

“What?” Mac gasped with confusion, stopping to raise himself enough to see her face.

“Nothing,” she got out a little breathlessly. “Shut up and love me.”

Mac smiled widely and began to move.

Nineteen

“We’ll wait out here while you help CJ take her luggage in, Mac,” Marguerite said as Julius parked the very large RV in the driveway. It made CJ glad she’d parked her car in the garage when she’d brought it back. Normally, unless it was snowing, she left it out rather than have to open and close the old-fashioned manual garage door. But because she was going to be away for two weeks, she’d put it away properly. She really needed to get an automatic garage door opener, but had been putting it off.

Realizing that Mac was already gathering up her luggage, CJ hurried to grab one of her suitcases and two of the bags of dirty laundry before he could take everything himself. She then led the way to the door Bricker was opening for them.

Murmuring “Thank you,” CJ slipped past him and stepped down out of the RV. She couldn’t resist looking toward the back of the vehicle to see if it was sticking out into the road as she feared, and found that, yes, the back two feet were in the road. But Julius had also parked almost against her garage door, so there wasn’t much to be done about it except to get the luggage inside and send Mac on his way so they could leave and stop blocking the road. Not that he would be gone long. He was just going to pick up Julius’s Corvette so he’d have something to drive around in.

From the day after tomorrow on, he was going to search for houses while she was at work. Well, if they didn’t find a house for him tomorrow. They’d come back a day earlier than they really had to from the island. CJ always made sure to come back from the island two days before she had to work. It gave her a day to recover from the journey home and do her laundry before she had to go into the office, and there was a lot of laundry since she’d brought back the dirty linens and towels as well as two weeks’ worth of clothes. But she’d have to do those at night. The next day she planned to ride around with Mac looking at houses, which was their excuse for his staying with her tonight. It was just more convenient than his staying with Marguerite and coming back early in the morning.

CJ suspected they’d be coming up with a lot of excuses for him to stay at her place over the next couple of weeks, or months, or maybe forever depending on how long they were together. Her vote was forever, or at least until death did they part. But she was trying to keep her head about this, take her time, and move slowly and cautiously. It was hard to do when she found herself wanting to throw caution to the wind and spend every waking moment with the man. She really wasn’t looking forward to going back to work and not being able to see him for eight hours on end.

That thought told CJ just how addicted she was to Macon (sexy beast Mac) Argeneau. Yeah, she had it bad for the guy.

“Do you need me to take the bags so you can unlock the door?” Mac asked as CJ stopped on her front step.

“No. I’m good,” she assured him, and began punching numbers into the digital lock. It was new and really handy at times like this. No matter how bogged down you were with bags, you could usually get one finger or knuckle free to push buttons. The lock hummed as the dead bolt retreated into the door, and CJ managed to work the doorknob despite everything she was carrying and led the way into her home.

“Nice,” Mac murmured as he followed her through the foyer into the living room.

“Thanks. I renovated it last year. I like the results,” she admitted as she dropped her bags and peered around the large room. It was decorated in warm earth tones, with overstuffed comfy furniture and large windows overlooking the backyard.

“You got the house in the divorce, then?” Mac asked. “Or did you buy it after?”

“Neither,” she said with a wry smile. “This was my parents’ home. Marge and Johnathan Cummings,” she added solemnly. “They left it to me along with the cottage. But since I had to go live with Mrs. Miller, Uncle Ernie, Ernie Cowessess, my father’s partner, arranged to rent it to a nice couple with kids. I considered moving in after police college, but the couple living here had been in residence so long I didn’t want to just kick them out. Besides, I worked in a station downtown after graduation, so I rented an apartment in the city instead. The rent here more than paid for my apartment.”

Mac nodded as he set down the bags he was carrying. He then crossed to the dining room at the end of the large living area to look into the kitchen. A soft whistle slid from his lips as he took in the white cupboards, dark granite-topped counters and island. “Nice job decorating.”

“Thank you,” CJ said, pleased at the compliment. She’d agonized over every little thing she’d had done, so it was nice to know she wasn’t the only one who liked it.

“When did you move back in?” Mac asked, returning to her side.

“A little over a year ago,” she admitted. “The Eastbrooks—they were the family who rented the house for something like twenty-one years,” she explained, “their kids were grown up and had moved out, so they decided to move to an apartment since it was just the two of them. I kept my apartment while this place was renovated and moved back in last June, so a year and three months ago.”

Mac hesitated, but then asked, “If you had this house, why were you and your ex-husband saving to buy another one? Why not just move in here?”

“Like I said, the Eastbrooks had lived here a long time. I didn’t want to just kick them out,” she repeated, but acknowledged to herself that it was only part of the truth, and admitted, “Besides, even after so many years had passed, this place was . . . It made me sad to be here. I was so happy here with my parents until I found those papers in the attic. I didn’t really want to live in the home where I’d been so happy with them. It would have been a daily reminder of what I’d lost,” she admitted.