Sally: Autumn Storms (F&L Story #4)

Sally: Part 36

Part 36

As twilight entered Sally’s pumpkin fields, teenagers dressed up in every sort of costume conceivable began arriving.  Wilson stood off to the side, leaning on the tailgate of his truck, watching the procession of party-goers. 

Well, to be honest, he watched Sally.  The brim of his hat hung low over his eyes, shadowing his intense gaze, which was a good thing.  A damn good thing.  Because if she so much as glanced at him right that moment, he’d haul her off behind that stand of witch hazel bushes and ravish her. 

Sally greeted every person that walked through the far gate, whether it was a vampire decked out in the whole, black tuxedo ensemble or the scantily clad Pocahontas girl with dark braids that hung to her waist.  In fact, most of the girls that showed up wore barely anything at all.  If those were his daughters, he’d snatch them bald-headed for wearing such costumes.  And if those boys out there were his sons, he’d staple their eyelids shut for leering at their female counterparts that way.

Wilson mentally shook his head.  Teenagers.  He wasn’t so old as to not remember what that period of his life had been like.  But still…  There was a lot to be said for the older and wiser adages.  At least now, he knew to keep his hat pulled down when ogling a pretty woman in public.

Like Sally.

Sweet Jesus.  There wasn’t another body on this green earth that could look that good in that outfit.  The golden sequins along the skirt and halter top flickered in the firelight with every tiny movement of her body.  Even from the distance, he could see her stomach muscles bunch and tighten as she laughed, causing his own abdomen to clench with need.

How was it possible for one man to need one woman so much?  He’d already made love to her three times today…once this morning, once during lunchtime, and another time after she emerged downstairs in that get-up just a brief hour before now.  And yet, he still felt his loins tightening and the blood rush away from his brain.  Wilson closed his eyes, deeply inhaled the smoke-tinged air, and let it all out with a whoosh.

He can’t get sent back to prison.  He just can’t.  He’d go crazy without Sally in his arms several times a day.  He was addicted to her, and he loved it that way.  Unfortunately, when he begged Josh over the phone earlier, the deadline could not be extended.  He had until midnight to get his ass back to Missouri.  That meant, in two short hours, he’d have to leave.

Sally was pissed.

Oh, no one could tell by the way she smiled and laughed and enjoyed her guests right now, but she was.  She wasn’t mad at him, or at Josh, but at Peter.  Fighting mad, too.  After he packed up a few things into his truck this evening, he went into the house to check on her, and found her loading shells into one of her many double barrel shotguns.  She point-blank told Wilson that if Peter so much as peeked through the bushes into her property, she would be burying a headless man tonight.

Wilson gently removed her from her gun room, unloaded all the weapons, and hid the ammunition in the back of a linen closet.  Sally had been in the shower when he did that.  Otherwise, she’d be toting that gun on her shoulder right now.  He knew for a fact, there was a holster strapped to the inside of her left thigh.  He just prayed she didn’t accidentally shoot someone tonight.  If even one of those kids out there was named Peter, he might have trouble on his hands.

“You must be Wilson,” a blonde, younger man said, wearing a baseball outfit.  He stretched out his hand at Wilson.  “I’m Carey, Aunt Sally’s nephew, and according to her and my wife, Sage, the dumbass of the family.”

Wilson shook the man’s hand.  “I assumed that Sally reserved that title for her brother.”

Carey grinned boyishly and shrugged.  “He’s my dad, and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”  Sally’s nephew hopped up on the tailgate and popped open a can of beer.  “The women folk won’t let me drink around the kids.  You want one?”