Cheryl and Samuel at 323 Harper's Cove
Deanndra Hall
Cheryl and Samuel at 323 Harper’s Cove
Deanndra Hall
Celtic Muse Publishing, LLC
Contents
Welcome to Harper’s Cove
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
About the Author
Also by Deanndra Hall
Cheryl and Samuel at 323 Harper’s Cove
Harper’s Cove, Book 5
Copyright 2015 Deanndra Hall
Celtic Muse Publishing, LLC
P.O. Box 3722
Paducah, KY 42002-3722
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction.
Names of characters, places, and events are the construction of the author, except those locations that are well-known and of general knowledge, and all are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental, and great care was taken to design places, locations, or businesses that fit into the regional landscape without actual identification; as such, resemblance to actual places, locations, or businesses is coincidental. Any mention of a branded item, artistic work, or well-known business establishment, is used for authenticity in the work of fiction and was chosen by the author because of personal preference, its high quality, or the authenticity it lends to the work of fiction; the author has received no remuneration, either monetary or in-kind, for use of said product names, artistic work, or business establishments, and mention is not intended as advertising, nor does it constitute an endorsement. The author is solely responsible for content.
Cover design & Formatting by:
Drue Hoffman, Buoni Amici Press.
Disclaimer:
Material in this work of fiction is of a graphic sexual nature and is not intended for audiences under 18 years of age.
Welcome to Harper’s Cove
Writing novels is my first love. I like nothing better than to take a name, find a photo that represents the face I have for him or her in my mind, assign a birthdate, an occupation, a love interest, family, friends, and sometimes enemies, and let my imagination go wild. If novels didn’t take so long to write, I’d crank out one a week!
That’s how I got the idea for this series. They’re short, quick reads that will get your motor humming and entertain you enough to wonder what the next couple in the cove will be up to. I was trying to figure out a way to plug in some short but quality reading between the volumes of the Love Under Construction series, and along came Karen and Brett and blew me away! I couldn’t wait to get started on this series, and I think it’ll be different from anything you’ve read before.
Take a stroll down Harper’s Cove and see what’s going on. And try not to be too judgmental; we’ve all got skeletons in our closets.
Love and happy reading,
Deanndra
1
Cheryl
I just want Friday afternoon to come. It seems like the weeks get longer and longer with no end in sight, and even with Samuel there, the house feels empty. He’s great company, but I’m still lonely.
Lunch on Thursday is usually a deli sandwich from down the block, and Samuel offers to go and pick one up while I finish my sermon notes. It’s my week, and I want this one to be good. They’ll be in the congregation, and I want them to enjoy it. This time around I’ll be preaching on “inclusivity for everyone.” I know they’ll appreciate it; I just hope everyone “gets it.”
When Samuel gets back with the sandwiches, we take them down to the church fellowship hall and sit down to eat. Mr. Baker, the custodian, has been gone for about thirty minutes for lunch, so we’re alone. I finally look up at him and ask with a grin, “Are you excited about this weekend?”
“I’m excited about every weekend!” he crows back. “Of course I’m excited. I just wish―”
“I know. But not yet. I keep hoping the climate changes, but we just have to be patient.”
“I know that too. But I can’t help but wish.” He eats a couple of chips and then smiles as he stares at the pockmarked surface of the table. “Some day―”
“Yeah. Some day.”
Just not today. And probably not tomorrow.
2
Gloria
I can barely wait until Sunday. I just love that church we go to. It’s the nicest church I’ve ever been in. When I was growing up, we went to the little tiny backward churches that didn’t have fellowship halls or chapels or Sunday school rooms, just little one-room churches that almost didn’t have any heat in the winter. They were awful compared to this one.
But it’s got beautiful stained glass windows and pews with cushions and everything. The fellowship hall is big―I bet it seats at least two hundred and fifty people! And there’s a room for every Sunday school class and some extra ones to expand. We have all kinds of classes and activities for kids, and ladies’ groups, and prayer groups, and just tons of stuff. It’s great.
Of course, quite frankly, it took me awhile to get used to those preachers. I mean, I’d never been in a church that had a female preacher before. It was quite the shock when they were hired. I mean, it’s always been male pastors everywhere I’ve known. But I love Reverend Cheryl and Reverend Samuel, although it’s really hard for me to call her reverend. I’m trying to adjust, though. Women are doing everything these days, so I’m not surprised that they’re preaching too.
And I have to be nice to them, very nice, because they’re neighbors. They live right down the street in three twenty-three. It’s an older house, not as nice as some of the others in the neighborhood, but they do a good job of taking care of it. We don’t have a parsonage anymore, so they had to buy their own house, and I think they chose wisely. This is a nice neighborhood. Well, mostly nice.
We’ve got a bunch of weirdos in here, scary people who are doing sick, dark things, I’m just sure of it. Russell says to mind my own business, but I just can’t. What if they corrupt our little children? That would be horrible! We don’t need that, no we don’t.
So I’ll just keep watching. Maybe I should talk to Reverend Cheryl and Reverend Samuel about it. Maybe they’d have an idea or two.
I had a party a couple of weeks ago. I don’t remember what it’s called, one of those jewelry parties. I invited eight ladies from the church to come, but only two showed up. I don’t know what’s wrong with people these days. Nobody wants to make new friends. They just hide in their houses and stay to themselves.
Like all these neighbors. Of course, it’s just as well with some of them. I think getting to know them would be a mistake. I thought that Becca Henderson was a sweet little thing, but man, there’s something weird going on there for sure. After what I saw in the window …
I should try to forget about it, but it’s burned into my brain, lord have mercy. And that Karen Reynolds is a big mouth. I don’t like her, not one bit. I’d still like to invite her down for a drink, though, pick her brain, see if I can figure out what they and all of their friends are up to.
The closest grocery store, Food Quest, has a liquor stor
e in it now, and they were having a sale on vodka. Good vodka, not the cheap stuff. I got six bottles. It’ll take me forever to use all that up, probably two or three weeks, but it was a really good price. I should learn to make some fancy cocktails. Maybe I could get Russell to join me for a drink sometimes in the evening if I knew how to do that.
Russell. That man is exasperating, I’ll tell you. He doesn’t believe a word I say. I just asked him, “Russell Livingston, when was the last time I lied to you? Have I ever lied to you? No, I have not.” You know what he said?
“Gloria, is there or is there not a bottle of peppermint schnapps in the cabinet under the bathroom sink?”
How does he know about that? I keep it there so that if I’m in the tub and I’m stressed out, I have it handy. I don’t know what the big deal is. I guess no matter what I do, somebody’s going to have something to say about it.
3
Cheryl
Four o’clock on Friday and my nerves are a jangled mess. It’s ridiculous. I mean, we’ve been together for seventeen years now―you’d think it was no big deal. But it is, at least to me.
“Have you talked to her? Do you know what time they’ll be here?”
I laugh right out loud. “Relax, eager beaver! It won’t be long. She said Daniel had to go and have the car serviced, but that shouldn’t take long. Have you gotten everything done in the guest room?”
“Yeah. Are you guys taking it, or are we?”
I shrug. “I don’t care. You guys took it last time. Guess it’s our turn.”
“Sounds good to me.” He crosses the room to me and wraps me in a big hug, and I hug him back tight. “Thanks, Cheryl. Thanks for everything. We couldn’t do this if it weren’t for you being on board with it. I’m so thankful for you every day. I feel like you were brought into my life for exactly this reason. I get to do the thing I love most as my vocation, and I get to love who I love. It’s perfect.”
“I feel the same way. It would be even more perfect if we could just go ahead with our plans, but I think that’s a few years down the road.”
“In the meantime,” he grins, “maybe we should all be thinking about having some kids, huh? Whaddya think?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We’ll all have to talk about it.” I give him a peck on the cheek. “Now go and fold the towels and put them away while I check on dinner and get some cleaning done in the kitchen, please.”
“Yes, ma’am! Folded towels coming up!” He kisses me back and then heads down the hallway.
I’ve just checked the roast again when I hear the door, and I call out, “Babe? Is that you?”
There’s a rush of air and the scent of her perfume, and we’re in each other’s arms. “Yeah. It’s me. Missed me?”
Before she has a chance to say anything else, I press my lips to hers and kiss her like I haven’t kissed her in forever. It takes her under a second to respond, and I hear someone clear their throat behind me. “Yes?” I manage to say around Megan’s mouth.
“Do I at least get a hug?” Daniel moans. I leave Megan to hug him. “Where’s Samuel?”
“Down the hall. I can’t believe he didn’t hear―” Before I can finish the sentence, Samuel’s arms snake around Daniel’s waist.
“Hey, babe,” Daniel manages to groan out, then turns and kisses Samuel. It’s an instant replay of the kiss Megan and I gave each other just a minute or two before.
She reaches for me again and I wrap my arms around her neck, then just lose myself in her. Her hand slides from the back of my waist around to the front, slips up my ribcage, and cradles one of my breasts, while her other hand grips my ass tight. “Hey. I’ve got to check dinner. Help me out, please?” I beg as I break away from her.
“Oh, you’re no fun.” She picks up a carrot stick and crunches it while the guys just keep kissing and, in a few minutes, they disappear down the hall. “So what did you do today?”
“I finished practicing my sermon and―”
“What do you do, go up to the sanctuary and give the sermon to empty pews?”
I nod. “I absolutely do. It makes me more confident when I get up before the congregation on Sunday morning.”
“I see.”
I stir some homemade salad dressing and ask, “So what did you do today?”
She rolls her gaze to the ceiling. “Well, let’s see … I helped one little girl learn to tie her shoes. Then there’s this little boy, his name is Frankie, and he keeps picking his nose until it bleeds―”
“Yuck!”
“Yeah, yuck is right. We’re trying to break him of that. Anyway, I had something very unusual happen today.”
“Yeah?”
She straightens and stares at me. “I had a second grader look at me and say, ‘Lesbo’.”
My eyes pop open wide. “No shit?”
“No shit. Surprised the hell out of me. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to ask what the little darling meant, but I knew full well what she meant.”
“But how could she have known? She couldn’t have known.” My heart is pounding ninety to nothing.
“I know. It was so weird. I stopped her and told her if she continued to call people names, I’d have to talk to her teacher and let her know what was going on. She just snarled at me and kept walking.” Megan is trying to appear nonchalant, but I can tell it rattled her.
“I think that was a good move. You know, just not making a big deal of it.” I open the oven door, then grab the potholders. “Get the guys. It’s ready.”
“Guys! Cheryl says come on!” she calls out loudly toward the hallway.
I can’t help but chuckle. “I could’ve done that!”
“Well, you didn’t have to, now did you?” she snickers, then grabs me and kisses me again.
Yeah. It’s gonna be one of those nights.
“Oh, god, right there, baby, right there,” Megan moans out. I’ve got a finger inside her pussy and I’m stroking her G-spot like crazy. “Oh, god, so good, baby. Please, oh god, please? Oh, shit.” It’s hard to keep it up with her hips wiggling like crazy, so I press my other hand into her mound to hold her down and she shrieks, “Damn! Oh, damn, girl, yeah, make me come!”
“I’ll make you come, all right. You’ll come so hard you’ll soak us both.” I just ramp up my strokes even more, and she lets out a squeal as she shoots out a spray of ejaculate about three feet. I’m so glad I put those waterproof sex sheets on the bed. At least we won’t be sleeping in puddles tonight.
“Gawd, baby, that was incredible.” Before I get a chance to really decide what I want to do next, she’s pushed me back and buried her face in my slit.
“Wait! Wait, Meg! I wanted to―”
She lifts her face to look at me. “You wanted to what?” There’s an evil grin that follows the question.
“I wanted to, oh, nothing. Go back to what you were doing,” I sigh and let my head drop back onto the bed. What I want now is for her to never, never stop.
From between my folds she mumbles, “Yeah. That’s exactly what I thought.” The need is growing deep down inside me. I’ve missed her so much, her touch, her kiss, her smile and laugh. I’ve missed everything about her.
“Angel, I’m gonna come. Oh, god, please, make me come,” I manage to push out in a hoarse whisper.
“You’re gonna come like gangbusters, baby. Can’t talk anymore―I’ve got work to do.” I can see her eyes smiling from just over the crest of my mound, and then she ties into me. Somewhere between misery and ecstasy, I grip the sheets with both hands and, in minutes, I’m overwhelmed with my orgasm, my hips rocking and back arching like a camel’s hump. She finally stops and slaps the inside of my thigh. “Good?”
“Good? No. Great. Come up here with me.” She crawls up and rests her head on my chest, one hand toying with my nipple.
“How much longer, Cheryl? How many more years will we have to keep this up?”
“I have no idea.” Before I can say anything else, I hear one of the guys let loose down the hal
l, and I’m torn between wanting to be here with her and wanting to watch them. “Sounds like they’re having fun!”
Megan’s voice is just a murmur as she says, “Daniel’s really suffering without Samuel. He cries himself to sleep at least four nights a week. I hold him and cuddle him and kiss his forehead, but it’s not the same. I know it’s not the same for him, because it’s not the same for me.”
“Samuel’s having just as rough a time. But we just get up in the mornings and put one foot in front of the other.”
“We should just come out.”
I shake my head. “You know what would happen. Samuel and I would lose our pastorates. Daniel would lose his headmaster position, and you’d lose your teaching position. And four unemployed people are lots harder to take care of than two. So no, we can’t, not yet.”
“Ah, the joys of teaching in parochial school.”
“Yeah. Exactly.” As we lie there in the quiet, I wrap a finger in her hair and twiddle with it. Her breathing is steady and peaceful, and I wish I could be in her arms every night. “Oh! Meant to tell you, Samuel was talking today about having kids. What do you think?”
“I think that would be confusing for a child, don’t you?”
“No. I think they’d just think all of their mommies and daddies were good friends and never give it a second thought.”
