Joshua Gayou - Commune - The Complete Series - A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Box Set (Books 1-4)

He arrived at his front door and spent a moment fumbling around with the bottles in his hands; sometimes people called a greeting out to him as they passed, but he only nodded in their direction. He got the bounty arranged behind his back and tapped the bottom of the door with the toe of his boot. A few seconds later, Danielle opened it for him.

“There’s my birthday baby!” he laughed.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. She was barefoot, wearing a faded old pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up; a look he positively loved on her. She held the door open for him and said, “Thanks, hot stuff, but you’re not supposed to celebrate them after thirty-five.”

“Oh, hell to that!” he said. He stepped inside, bent down, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Every birthday’s a gift, these days! I simply will not let yours pass uncelebrated.”

She smiled up at him, eyebrows cocked askance, and asked, “Why do I get the feeling you’re hiding something from me?”

“Well, that’s probably because I am.”

Danielle laughed through her nose at him and tried to look around behind him. He twisted away and laughed.

“Well, are you gonna let me see it or not?”

“Need a kiss first.”

Laughing openly now, she said, “I just gave you one!”

“Didn’t take! Better do it again!”

Her nose wrinkled in laughter, the small freckles at the bridge twisting around in the way that he loved so much. He almost gave up right there, but she threw her arms around his neck before he could surrender and kissed him thoroughly. When they finished, she pulled back and whispered, “Did that one take?”

“It did for now,” he said. He felt his heart pounding in his chest; wondered if she felt it as well.

She backed two steps away and said, “Well?”

He showed her what he was hiding, and her mouth dropped.

“You’re kidding!” she gasped.

“Never… been… opened!”

She reached out and took the bottles of extra moisturizing shampoo and conditioner and said, “Where…?” It was becoming harder and harder to find such things. The old resources were being consumed at alarming, ever increasing rates.

“Got lucky in an old garage closet today. I’m not supposed to bring these straight back here, strictly speaking, but… you know. Being one of the main guys has its perks, right?”

“Oh, God, does it ever! Do you mind if… your arm!”

“Huh?” He looked down at himself. “Oh, yeah. It’s nothing; I caught it on a door frame. Doesn’t even hurt.”

“It looks like someone peeled the skin off you!”

“Oh, it does not. Stop that!”

She was pawing at him, twisting his arm around to see. “Nope, fuck you, buddy. We’re cleaning this out right now.”

“Oh, come one, babe…”

She drug him over by the sink, grabbed a towel, and began washing out the wound from a pail of water.

“Now look at that,” he said. “See? Not even stitches—it was working on scabbing up before you got it all wet again.”

“Uh-huh,” she scoffed. She pulled a first-aid kit from a wall cabinet and dug out a roll of gauze.

“This is really too much,” Elton complained.

She put a finger in his face and said, “You are not getting blood on my clean sheets, mister, do you get me?”

He sighed. “Fine. No sense arguing with a woman when her sheets are involved, I guess.”

She nodded enthusiastically to this truth as she bound up his forearm. When she had him all put back together, she retrieved the bottles he’d brought from the table and asked, “Well, may I enjoy my presents, now?”

“Shit yeah, Baby, I’ll even do it for you if you want; massage your scalp and everything.”

Her eyes bugged in her head slightly. Grabbing him by the shirt, she tugged him around to the best position to carry out his promise and said, “Well, if I didn’t love you before, I’ll sure as hell love you after that.”

He laughed hard as she plugged the sink and filled it with water. It was a very good day.

They finished sometime later, both the washing of her hair and… other things. They lay together in a heap on the couch, bits of clothing strewn around the little common area, and dozed. Sometimes Elton stirred out of what might have been a foggy dream and looked around. Warm sunlight fell through the cracks of the mini-blinds overhead, dust motes swirling down over her naked skin; her freckled shoulders and riot of limbs entangled in his larger, darker extremities. He loved the look of her, loved the look of her against him. He sighed happily and smoothed the hair back from her neck.

She stirred against his chest, kissed the flesh she found there, and murmured, “Awake?”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“Hungry?”

“Little bit. Hey, what time is it?”

She lifted her head and blinked sleepily. “Unf… I dunno. My watch is over there… down by my pants…”

Straining to see what he was doing, he lowered his left leg to the floor, dug into the fabric with his heel, and yanked the jumble back toward his hand. The pants came skittering across the floor, but the watch remained.

“Damn it.”

“Forget it. We can eat later.”

“No… I need to know what time it is.”

“Why?”

“Meeting at five. Pretty important, I gather; all the heads are coming. It’s pretty rare, these days, so it must be big.”

Danielle sighed and untangled herself from his body. As she leaned up against the backrest, Elton got an outstanding view of her, top to tip, and cursed the injustice that required him to move away. When he was on his feet, she curled back into the warm spot he’d left on the couch cushion, drawing her knee up and providing a tantalizing view of a curved hip.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. He grabbed a blanket from an overhead cabinet and draped it over her.

“Mmm, thanks.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” He bent and retrieved the watch. “Oh, shit!” he barked.

“What?”

“Oh, I just have about five minutes to get over there, and I’m dancing around like a naked asshole, that’s about it,” he grumbled as he picked through a pile of clothing to find his underwear. She watched certain parts of him shake around as he scrambled, and giggled.

“Yeah, real funny,” he griped, hopping around on one foot. “I hate being late to these goddamned things; everyone stops talking and just stares at you as you come in. Makes you feel like a giant horse’s ass—where the hell is my shirt!”

“Bathroom…” her voice chimed.

“Damn it, thanks.” She heard his footsteps as he rushed down the short hall. He came back soon after, yanking the shirt over his head. “Listen, I know I said I was going to make you dinner—and I still plan to do it if you want, but… what do you think about going out tonight?”

“Corina’s Prairie Dog Kabob?” she laughed.

He sat in a swivel chair across from her and began to lace up a boot. “Naw, one of my boys brought down a mule deer, I heard. There’s a good chance there’s still some left; you know how expensive that meat is. Most people probably are sticking to the Kabob.”

“Big spender tonight, huh?”

He glanced up in time to see her wink at him.

“Hey. You’re my girl.” He leaned forward to kiss her. When he tried to pull back, her hand caught him by the back of the head and pulled him in again.

“Yes, I am,” she whispered in his ear.

He smiled and rushed out the door. As he left, she noticed his shirt was on inside out and commenced to giggle herself stupid. Then she stopped abruptly, thoughts pulled back from fantasy down to solid earth.