A Writer's Cabin: Part 2.

A permanent change of location, and state of mind.

Based on a post by PickFiction. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I opened the door and stepped inside, announced by a jingling bell.

"Dale, good morning," Brooke said, standing and extending her hand.

Clad in tight black slacks, a red blouse, her dark hair held in place by a large gold clasp, and shoes with moderate heels, I was reminded that she was an attractive lady. And that didn't include the unforgettable pale blue eyes.

"Good to see you, Brooke. I'm ready to sign whatever."

"I have the papers ready." She spread some papers across her desk.

"And I'm ready to pay, also."

"You won't have to do that until the closing."

I handed her the check.

"Dale, this is for $225,000."

"That should cover everything, shouldn't it?"

"I'm sure, but you should pay at closing."

"I'd rather just give it to you, and it will be here when it's needed."

"Dale, I can't take it. I mean."

"Brooke," I interrupted, "if I can trust you to drive my Porsche, I can trust you with my $225,000."

For five seconds, she just looked at me, then the laughter began, and she had to sit down. At last, she took a deep breath and looked at me again.

"Where did you come from?" she asked. 'And don't you dare say, New York."

"All I can say is that visiting here and meeting the people, particularly you, is so much different than New York; that it's changing my behavior."

"It's probably illegal or unethical, but drive me to the bank so I can deposit it. We'll sign when we get back."

We did exactly that: the teller at the bank calling for her manager. I suggested they contact the bank in New York for verification. While the manager took care of that, Brooke and the teller chatted. I watched the teller lean forward and whisper to Brooke, who then looked at me.

I stepped toward them. "Autographed copies if you don't tell anyone."

"Really? Okay, I won't."

Her nameplate told me she was Sally, and I'd try to remember that.

"All confirmed," the manager said, "Go ahead and process it, Sally."

"Largest check I've ever processed," Sally said, and we headed back to the office.

"Maybe you can drive this thing after we do the signing."

"I think I have things to do, Dale," she answered with a chuckle.

"I've got some book signing to take care of."

"Listen, I nearly forgot. The man who's selling the cabin has moved to Oregon and told me that if I felt sure of the sale, the buyer could move right in."

"Oh my gosh, I'm ready." I began to plan as she drove. I'd leave the car here, fly to New York, rent a truck, and drive back to the cabin. I'd need some help. I wondered.

"You're quiet."

"Thinking, and I need help."

"Go on."

"Are there Ubers out here?"

"Not unless they come from the city. Where do you need to go?"

"The airport; so I can fly to New York, rent a truck, and drive my things back here."

"And take the truck to the city to return it."

I nodded.

"Dale, you know I'd be more than happy to take care of that."

What a beautiful smile accompanied her offer.

"Eyes on the road, please, and you're way too kind." I assured her.

"Well, you're a very interesting man, and I'm enjoying being around you."

"Wow, and very honestly, I'm enjoying being around you as well. I'm learning things that are very foreign to me and will become a part of my writing; and my life." We'd pulled into the small lot, and there was that smile again with the sparkling pale blue eyes. Brooke was a very attractive lady.

"Before I sign anything, let's go for a drive."

"Dale, that frightens me. I don't know."

If you ruin the car, I'll buy a new one and we'll try again."

That certainly widened her eyes. "I'm not sure I totally understand you, Dale."

"No problem. Perhaps I enjoy being a little mysterious."

"Well, you certainly have surprised me a few times." She admitted.

"Come on. You can just drive the car a couple of blocks as a starter."

Obviously reluctant, she followed me to the Porsche and climbed into the driver s seat.

"I m so close to the ground," she said with a giggle.

I showed her how to adjust the seat and the mirrors.

"I'm only going a couple of blocks. We don't need to change everything."

I discovered she had driven a standard shift when she'd first learned to drive at sixteen. It was a pickup truck with a column shift lever, but at least she'd used a clutch before. As we pulled away from the parking spot and she pressed on the accelerator, we shot forward, then slammed to a stop.

"Dale," she pleaded.

"I'm not going to learn to play the piano after one lesson, rebutted her implied argument. and you'll need to learn about the Porsche as well. Just keep going."

We completed the two-block circuit, and I don't think I've ever seen such a relieved look on a face.

"I'd say that was a good job. Now, let s go sign some papers."

She smiled, and I could tell that, in her own way, she had enjoyed driving the Porsche, possibly just from the sense of accomplishment.

I signed everything, thanked Brooke again for all her help, and then returned to the motel to make lots of arrangements. When they were taken care of, I made another call.

"Well, it's about time you called." Katherine s New York rudeness now was even more obvious when I was in rural Ohio.

"You could have called me." I matched her pushiness.

"I was being polite and not disturbing what you're doing wherever you are." She congratulated her own virtue.

"You're a saint, Katherine, an absolute saint. Did you get the two chapters taken care of?"

"I did. Your editor loved them and only changed a couple of words. How have you beguiled her to go along with whatever you write?"

I used Marie Laveau, the voodoo queen from Louisiana."

"I thought she was long dead. Katherine bantered back at me.

"Obviously not, if she's working for me."

"So, why did you call?"

"Just to let you know that I will be in town tomorrow to rent a truck and use it the following day as a receptacle for my New York life, which will be transported to Ohio to my new residence."

"So, you're really doing that?"

"It's done. I've purchased a place, and will send you the new address."

"How can you stand that, after living in New York?"

"How could I have stood New York, knowing what I know now."

"Maybe Marie Laveau has cast a spell on you." The witty agent didn t miss a beat.

I almost said, not Marie, but Brooke, but held my tongue.

"Of course, I wish you good luck and hope this doesn't disrupt your writing."

"On the contrary, I think it will help my writing."

"Send me the address."

We signed off, and I called Brooke.

"What's the latest?"

"My plane leaves at ten, so I'd like to be there by eight-thirty. What time should I be ready?"

"I'll pick you up at seven-forty-five."

"You're a jewel, Brooke."

"You're very sweet. See you in the morning." She said, then hung up.

As expected, Brooke was there right on time, and the trip to the airport was straightforward and uneventful. She cautioned me several times to drive carefully on the way back since my Porsche and the truck I'd be renting had absolutely nothing in common. I assured her that I would.

At the airport, she got out of the car and walked around to where I was standing. She extended her arms, and I stepped into them and received a warm and very enjoyable squeeze.

"Hurry back, Mister," she said.

"I checked, and the driving time from New York to here is about eight and a half hours. With stops, probably over nine hours. I plan to have everything ready when I pick up the truck, so hopefully, I'll get started home by ten in the morning. That should get me home at seven or eight."

"Here's the key to the cabin. Give me a call when you want to turn in the truck, and I'll follow you there."

"Brooke, you don't have to do all that." I was beginning to feel guilty about all that she was doing.

"Brooke Rowe Real Estate provides full service," she said with a chuckle. "Now, one more hug, and get on your way."

We hugged again, and I thanked her for everything. I was traveling light, no bag; and checking in and boarding was simple.

The flight was an hour long, and I called an Uber to take me to my apartment. The boxes I'd ordered had been delivered to the lobby of the building, and I carried them upstairs, put them together, and packed them. I wasn't a clothing hog, so that part was simple. The pictures and knick-knacks were easy as well, and soon, everything was ready. I checked with the truck rental, and they were ready for me.

I decided to head to Zǐh o's for dinner and a farewell.

"Mr. Dale. Have not seen you for a while."

"I know, Zǐh o. I've been in Ohio."

"Oh, far out west."

"It's a ways, but I'm moving there."

"Moving? No more eating at Zǐh o's?" He said with a sober face.

"I'm afraid not. And I'll miss it for sure."

"Tonight, my treat. Order what you want." He said with resolute duty.

"Shrimp fried rice will be perfect. I love it."

The fried rice was perfect, and I knew I'd miss it in Ohio. The food at the diner in Caraway was very different but equally good. I wondered if I'd miss the variety that I was used to in New York. Time would tell.

We bid each other farewell, and I promised Zǐh o that I'd be sure to come to see him when I was in New York in the future.

Picking up the truck went much as I'd learned to expect things in New York to go.

"What do you mean you can't find my reservation? I called yesterday to check, and they said everything was in order."

"Ain't my problem, Mister. There ain't a reservation here for Dale Scholtz."

"You've got to have it. Check again."

He checked with the same result.

 

 

"I checked yesterday. D a l e S c h u l t z:"

"Wait. I thought you said your name was S-c-h-o-l-t-z."

"I think that may have been what you thought you heard, but that's incorrect."

He glared at me but checked again.

"Yeah, here it is." He slapped a paper down on the counter. "Sign here, here, and here." The pen was slapped down equally hard.

"Take this out to the booth. They'll show you the truck." He stomped back to his desk.

I received a few instructions at the booth, drove to the apartment, and loaded the truck. It was a small truck, like an SUV, so it wasn't quite like driving a forty-foot truck. I maneuvered my way out of New York fairly quickly, letting the built-in GPS guide me. Soon, I was on the road and headed to Ohio.

I'd been driving for nearly an hour when I realized I was wishing that Brooke was sitting next to me and talking with me as I drove. That was certainly something new. She seemed really nice and willing to help me get established. I'd even commented on it before I left, and she indicated she was perfectly happy doing it. How happy was she?

And then there'd been the hugs yesterday. Two of them. I smiled as I realized how much I'd enjoyed those hugs. Was something about me changing? I'd gone twenty-seven years without women cluttering my life, but this one seemed different. Was it just the Caraway difference I'd been experiencing, or was there more?

She was enjoyable to look at with those fascinating blue eyes contrasting with her very dark hair and slightly dark complexion. She'd never really said anything that indicated that she liked me or wanted to be with me, except that she was often with me. Uh.

What would I do when I was back in Ohio? Maybe just wait for her to be more definite? If I was writing this as a story, how would I do it? I wrote about romance, so why didn't I know more about real life? Maybe it was because I controlled the writing, and I wasn't sure I was in control now.

I arrived at the cabin at about eight, as expected, and was inside the after unloading the first box when I received a text.

Are you at the cabin yet?

Just got here and beginning to unload.

Would you like some help?

What did that mean? Did she really want to help? Was it just Brooke Rowe Real Estate completing their full service? I stopped and took a deep breath.

Dale, I asked myself. Are you overanalyzing? Would you like to have Brooke here?

Answer, "Yes, I would. If it's not an inconvenience for you, I'd love to have some help.

Good. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.

More analysis. She'd said, "Good." That seemed to mean that she was happy that I needed some help. A subtle hint, perhaps, but I was going to take it at face value and see what developed. In fact, I stopped unloading, leaving more for us to do together when she arrived.

Brooke swept through the front door with a big smile. "That's not a very big truck, not at all what I was picturing."

"I didn't move any furniture, just clothing, books, and miscellaneous stuff. But it all needs to be unloaded."

"Let's get going then."

It wasn't difficult with me taking the heavier boxes and Brooke the lighter ones. By nine-thirty, we were finished.

Thank you so much, Brooke. I appreciate the help, and I appreciate you."

Her eyes jerked to mine. "Well, I enjoy being with you too. Are you planning to sleep here tonight? We need to make a bed if you are."

"Well, I don't want to sleep here until I'm completely moved, and as long as I have the truck, it isn't complete. Tomorrow, I'll have the grand moving in, even though, officially, I don't own it yet."

"That will be nice." There was a definite questioning look on her face.

"Lots of things need to be done, and I could use more help deciding where to hang things, what things to add, and what furniture to replace."

"The lady that owns the furniture store in town is a pretty good decorator, too. She could probably help you."

I smiled. "I think I'd rather have Brooke Rowe Real Estate complete their full service by helping me."

A wonderful smile shone on Brooke's face. "Good. She'd love to do it." Brooke confirmed in 3^rd person.

"What's open where we can get something to eat?" I was hungry.

"Not much, except Brooke Rowe Real Estate's full-service kitchen."

I shook my head. "Brooke, that's too much."

She looked sad. "Are you rejecting Brooke's offer to feed you?"

I realized I couldn't reject any offer from Brooke. "Never," I replied, "but I owe you big time."

"I'll have to come up with a way for you to pay this off, then." That comment came with a different kind of smile to her face.

I followed the Cadillac to a pleasant one-story house on the very edge of town. She pulled into the garage, and I parked on the driveway.

"I hope you like cheese," Brooke said as she prepared the grilled cheese sandwiches.

"Are you putting three kinds of cheese on each sandwich?"

"Sure. Isn't that the way you're supposed to do it," she added with a giggle.

"You're the expert," I said, anticipating what this might be like.

"And I'm using cinnamon butter on the bread, too."

"Brooke, where'd you learn this stuff?"

"I like to experiment."

I enjoy good food, and I wanted to know what other experiments she might have on hand.

"Here ya go. Lemme know."

I waited a few seconds to let it cool, having burned my mouth more than once on hot cheese. I loved her anticipatory look.

I took the first bite. "Oh my gosh, what a surprise. I've never had a grilled cheese like this before, and anytime you're serving, I'll be here to eat them."

"Really?"

"If you let me know, I promise to come and praise your culinary expertise."

"Aw, you're sweet. I have other recipes you might like."

"Could you prepare them at the cabin? I can picture us sitting on the screened-in porch eating a delicious and unique dinner."

"Me, too, Dale. I'd love to do that." Her flirting was as overt as my own.

"Just send me a list of what you need, and I'll have it ready for you."

She nodded. "Okay."

We finished the sandwiches and set nine in the morning for her to meet me at the motel and follow me to where I'd be turning in the truck. I locked up and we headed off, me to the motel and Brooke to her house.

I climbed into bed smiling. The sandwich had been excellent, and Brooke inviting me to her house even better. I'd found it difficult to leave her, and I sensed she was feeling the same. I was a sensitive writer, or so I'd been called by the critics, and I should be able to understand people. When I looked myself straight in the eye, I realized that I had been fully understanding Brooke but refusing to accept it. Tomorrow, maybe I could straighten things out.

I was sitting in the truck, waved to her when she arrived and headed to the address I'd been given. It was accurate, and the turning-in process was much more straightforward than the picking-up process had been. Just the difference between New York and Caraway I guessed.

I climbed into the Cadillac. "Thanks again for being so helpful."

"You don't need to keep saying that, Dale. I know you're thankful, and by now, we're good friends and do things for each other."

"I don't know. It'll be difficult, but I'll try. I m not use to kindness, living in New York. I just want to let you know how much it means to me.

"Do you have lots of ideas for decorating the cottage?"

"Not really. I'm going to have you decorate it just the way you'd like to have it."

"But you might not like some of the things I'd do."

"I doubt it."

"Dale, are you sure? I don't want to spend money on something you won't like."

"Well, if you decorate it just the way you like, then you won't have to change anything when it's yours and my cabin."

She hit the brakes hard and pulled onto the berm.

"What did you just say?"

"What did you just hear?"

"What I've been wanting to hear for several days."

"I think you heard correctly, then."

"Are you saying ...?"

"I'm saying that I missed you more than I'd imagined I could while I was away for only two days. I wanted you in the seat beside me while I drove. I pictured that over and over."

"I missed you so much and prayed over and over that you'd be safe."

I took hold of her hand and pulled her toward me. "I missed those blue eyes looking at me."

"Kiss me."

I did, and she kissed me back. I was amazed at the feelings that were racing through my body.

"I've been so afraid."

"Of what? Surely not of me?" I asked, surprised at what she'd said.

"Of myself and the way I was feeling about you."

"But we've gotten along so well."

"I know, but you're a famous author from New York, and I'm just a small-town real estate agent. It just seemed like a match that couldn't be."

I had to laugh at that. "I guess I'm famous, but that isn't really me. I think you've seen that, but were just afraid to accept it. I'm perfectly comfortable here in Caraway, and I'm finding that's more me than New York. You have to have seen that."

"I thought I could, but still." She explained.

"Well, if I have my way, we're going to find out a lot more about each other in the days and weeks to come. Writing, piano lessons, unique cooking. Let's get to the cabin and get that started. But first, kiss me again."

Another wonderful kiss, and she pulled back onto the road, getting us to the cabin before we knew it.

We parked and went inside

Not surprisingly, we initiated our time at the cabin with a much longer kiss.

"Dale, I think this has been the most exciting thirty minutes of my life."

 

 I concurred;

"Brooke, I'd never dreamed of anything like this. I was a writer, and I wrote. Having my first book published was exciting, and getting The National Book Foundation award seemed important at the time. But Brooke, nothing has ever made me feel like I did when I kissed you today and then again here in the cabin. My heart is still pounding."

Brooke was sitting on a stool, hands cluttered tightly in her lap and eyes fixed on me as I talked.

"I can't believe I'm sitting in this cabin with the author of The Eagle is Flying, Finding Her Fate, Before the Ending, and The First Time, and he just said those things about me. If you're really Mr. Schultz, pinch me so I can tell if I'm dreaming."

"Ms. Rowe, I shall not pinch thee, for thou art too precious to risk damage in any way. Instead, may I take thee to my heart, which wants nothing more than to keep thee there forever."

Two tears were moving slowly down her cheeks. I leaned down and kissed them away, the saltiness precious to me.

"You can stay here if you'd like." When she bit her lower lip, I added, "or not."

She looked at me almost fearfully.

"Brooke, I've fallen totally in love with you. But there's much of both of us that's still unknown to the other. I want to learn all there is to know of you since each thing I've learned so far has added to your fascination."

"Dale, I just don't want to; "

"Disappoint me?" I finished her concern.

She closed her eyes. I took her hand and led her to the couch, where I sat down and pulled her onto my lap, clasping my arms around her.

"He held her tightly, savoring her love and who she was. His mind couldn't imagine a time without her here, loving him as much as he loved her.

It was magical, something from Camelot or a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

She could feel his heart beating, each pulsation sounding his love for her. It was the story of the ages, the love the world had awaited, and it was hers, cherished and returned in kind."

"I wish I could say things like that."

"Why?"

"They're such beautiful and meaningful words."

"They're words and nothing like the love we share. That love is more powerful than all the words ever written, and I'm glad I came here and found it."

"I think you were a Caraway man trapped in New York City, and you had to come here to find who you really are."

We decorated, me following Brooke's lead. We discussed whether we should live in her house in the city or the cabin in the woods. She insisted on the cabin since that's why I'd come here, and she felt like she was already beginning to love it. I explained that I had plenty of money and we could buy a mansion if we wanted, but she said there were no mansions in Caraway.

Close to noon, the phone rang. It was Katherine. I put it on speaker so that Brooke could listen.

"I'm decorating my cottage, and you've interrupted me," I answered.

"Tough shit," she replied, "but I have some news for you."

"It must be important if you took time out of your busy schedule to call me."

"The studio people want to make a movie of your first two books. I negotiated a retention fee of $20,000 for each one, but they're already set, so you'll be getting $200,000 purchase fee for each. What should I do with the $440,000?"

I watched Brooke's eyes widen.

"Just dump it into my account. I have a few things I'll need for the cabin." I heard Brooke giggle.

"Is there someone there with you?"

"Yes, my soon-to-be wife."

"There's something wrong with our connection. I thought I heard you say, wife." Katherine s deadpan wit was classic.

"That's the correct word, and you'll be hearing more later."

"Dale, what the hell's going on out there in Ohio?"

"More than you could ever imagine, Katherine. Talk to you later."

I tapped the disconnect button.

"What?"

"$440,000 just like that?"

"Once you start making money, larger chunks of money, it just seems to grow and happen more often. You'll have plenty of money to spend at the Mercantile."

That got a laugh from Brooke. "Since you have all of that money, shouldn't I be going to New York to shop at all of the trendy boutiques?"

"If we go to New York, instead of trendy boutiques, I'll take you to Zǐh o W ng's Chinese restaurant, where I was a regular. I think you'll like his food. Plus, I think we've had inquiries about the other two books as well, so we could be getting another big chunk of money eventually. Book five is complete and will be out for sale in a few months.

"More money?" she asked quietly.

I could tell that Brooke had never considered my money when she'd discovered who I was, just my fame, and I delighted in that. I had an excellent money manager, and he was investing what I didn't need to live, and it was growing. I hadn't checked recently, but I knew I was a multi-millionaire. I'd share that with Brooke one of these days, but things were fine now. She was certainly getting subtle hints.

"And with all of that, you chose that little cabin. I'd just sold that house on the lake for nearly a million dollars to a pompous little man who continually tried to impress me with how wealthy he was. When you quietly paid cash for the cabin, I began to get a hint of what you were like."

"And you still stayed after me?"

"Dale, you're silly. And I think you know that I'm a very conservative girl, from a very conservative family, living in a very conservative town."

I smiled, wondering where she might be going with that.

"But I'm also a girl that's totally in love, and that can change things. I'm going to stay a conservative girl, but there's another part of me that wants, well; uh, to spend a night here with you in the cabin."

I understood perfectly what she was saying, and I was completely in tune with it.

"That would be wonderful, and I have some sweatpants and T-shirts or sweatshirts that you can wear. But, only on one condition."

The look on her face told me she understood me as well.

"Uh-oh, conditions."

"Tomorrow you must start me on my piano lessons."

"And tomorrow, you must begin working with my writing."

"I'm wary of that, Brooke. You may outdo me before long."

She snorted. "I'd just like to understand a little about writing."

We had some dinner, watched a little TV, and settled into the freshly-made bed for the night. We held each other tightly, the aroma of her hair being a new part of her for me to experience, and our bodies pressed tightly together, even with layers of pajamas and sweaty clothing between us, being perfect for the conservative girl from Caraway, and the equally conservative guy from New York.

I surprised her one evening at the diner where I had made prior arrangements. We'd finished eating, and Billy Joe and Alma had gathered by our table, along with a few others. I could tell that Brooke was puzzled when I stood, walked around the table, then suddenly dropped to one knee. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, and then her hands covered her face, hiding the tears.

"Brooke, I came to Caraway to get away from New York and everything about it. I wanted peace and quiet. I found not only that, but a fulfillment of my life that I'd never imagined possible. A very conservative lady from there caused me to understand where my life should be headed, and that heading was with her; forever. I thank you with all my heart for doing that, Brooke, and I'm asking you to officially join me on my journey, our journey, by becoming Mrs. Brooke Schultz. Will you marry me, Brooke Rowe?"

She fairly collapsed into my arms, murmuring yes, yes! Over and over, to cheers and applause from everyone in the restaurant. Finally, she stood and thanked everyone for their good wishes, telling them that a dream she didn't even know she had was coming true.

"When do you want to have the ceremony?" she asked when we were back at the cabin."

"That's up to you, but I think the courthouse is open tomorrow."

She looked at me very seriously. "I'd like a simple ceremony here in Caraway within a month. I want to finally move into the cabin with you, and;"

"And?"

"As my granny would have said, Consummate the relationship.

"I am in full agreement with your plan. All of it."

Not surprisingly, Brooke's cheeks pinked slightly.

In the four weeks before the wedding, I had written three chapters of the new book, with Brooke reading what I'd written at the end of each day. Not surprisingly, her comments and suggestions were astute and right on point, and a large number of them found their way onto the manuscript.

I surprised myself by learning to play simple things on the piano, and often, while I'd write, I had marvelous piano music to inspire me. As celebrity often caused, her real estate business was doing well, with people anxious to purchase from the lady who would be the wife of the famous author.

The day before the wedding, we met Katherine, the only New Yorker I'd invited, who went directly to Brooke.

"I just had to meet the woman who'd agreed to spend her life with this buffoon."

I'd warned her about Katherine, and she laughed. "I've checked him out, and he seems okay. I'm willing to take my chances." Brooke said, graciously. She dismissed the rudeness of the agent s words.

"You're a brave woman, Brooke, but congratulations." She opened her arms, and they hugged.

"As for you, Mister, somehow I think you've stumbled onto an excellent one. You'd better take good care of her, Buster, or you'll be more than hearing from me." Once more, she opened her arms, and for the first time, we hugged.

"Thanks, Katherine. I'm smart enough to know how fortunate I am to have chosen Ohio as my hiding place. Caraway is the perfect place for me."

 

 

"I probably won't be here long enough to find out. I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow, but I'm on the way back to New York tomorrow evening. The best of everything to you two."

Katherine strode away, and I smiled at Brooke.

"She has a very pleasant side, Dale. But I think you two enjoy jousting with each other."

"Jousting, huh? I've grown familiar with your perceptiveness, so I'll bow to that." I knew that the next time we talked on the phone, the jousting would continue.

The wedding was well attended by the people of Caraway. It was open-church and nearly every pew was filled. The reception was held in the basement of the church, as was the custom in Caraway. She had allowed me to splurge on the catering. I enlisted Billy Joe to oversee all the food, But I insisted that he hire other great restaurants in the Caraway region, and pay them 20% more than the bids. Billy Joe and Alma were to be the reception hosts, and I paid the couple a 20% commission for simply managing the reception. It wasn't a sit-down dinner, but it could have been. It was more like the food court, with 4 local restaurants each set up, One in each corner of the full basement. My only special request was that he let Zǐh o W ng's Chinese Restaurant use his local caf , to offer the Chinese cuisine, at whatever rates and travel costs were incurred.

We were hugged, kissed, and wished well, by everyone in the receiving line. Pictures were completed, and people were enjoying the food and the company.

While the photographer completed our after-ceremony photos, Billy Joe and Alma greeted the guests downstairs. Brooke and I could her them on the P A, through the floor. Alma asked each caterer to describe the foods they prepared. Zǐh o W ng went last. He took his liberty to offer a toast to the newlyweds, with a traditional Chinese wish, which he translated in his broken English.

We'd decided that we'd go directly to the cabin for our wedding night, and I'd asked Brooke to decide where she'd like to go for a honeymoon. Anywhere in the world was my only limit. Her answer was typical Caraway Brooke.

"I don't speak any foreign languages, so how about England and Scotland, maybe Ireland and Wales if we have time."

"We have the rest of our lives. They speak English in Australia and New Zealand, too."

She bit her lower lip. "They seem so far away. Maybe one day."

"And the cabin is so close. They speak English at the cabin?"

She giggled. Suppose anyone has decorated my car with silly signs, and tin cans rattling on ropes?

"It doesn't matter. My car is parked out back."

"Sneaky man. Will my gown fit into the car?"

"If not, you'll have to ride to the cabin in your underwear."

"Would you really do that?" She'd lowered her head and raised her eyebrows as she said that.

"Has saying, I do, changed the very conservative girl?"

"I guess you'll have to find out." Brooke matched my wit.

And I mean to do just that. After a couple hours of circulating, cutting the cake, and even dancing some waltzes when the DJ directed, We checked with Alma and Billy Joe, who'd been great hosts for the wedding and they told us to get on out of there and they'd take care of everything. Alma added that the guests brought so many wedding gifts. She offered to transport them all to the restaurant, and suggested we open them tomorrow afternoon, in their caf s meeting room, around 2pm? Brooke loved the idea and suggested that they notify close family and friends to join us.

Alma then handed me a big picnic basket; Here s a sampler basket of all the foods. I have a feeling you two will need to keep your energy up, tonight.

Brooke blushed and kissed her cheek.

We escaped out the back door and were able to stuff Brooke and her gown into the Porsche. I climbed into the other side, rearranged some lace, and headed for the cabin. I pulled up in front and helped Brooke escape the right confines of the car, and opened the door for her. She took a step inside and froze.

"Dale, what have you done?" She turned slowly to look at me.

"Well, you introduced me to Rita at the flower shop, and that gave me an idea. She's been a big help."

Brooke stepped inside very tentatively and looked around.

There were rose petals scattered everywhere, thirty or forty lit candles of all sizes and descriptions, along with the aroma of incense. Beautiful flowers hung from the ceiling and surrounded the bedroom door frame. Rita had done a fantastic job, and I needed to tip her even further.

Suddenly there were arms around my neck and lips against my own. Our tongues met and danced. Then my conservative girl pulled her head back and said breathily,

"Do you want me?"

I responded by pulling her against me and unzipping her beautiful gown. She immediately stepped out of it, standing before me in tiny pale blue bra and panties that nearly perfectly matched her eyes. I knew she hadn't purchased those in Caraway.

Before I could reach for her, she'd unfastened the bra and let it fall to the floor, quickly followed by the panties. She was naked except for the low heels that she wore.

"Are you blushing, Mrs. Schultz?"

"I hope not. But something needs to be happening here, and quickly."

My undressing was slightly more complicated with the black suit and vest I was wearing. I think I was more anxious to get it off that she was, and it didn't take long.

We made our way through the flower bedecked doorway and into the bedroom holding hands. Brooke pulled back the covers and beckoned to me.

"I'm teaching you about the piano. Teach me about sex."

I wasn't a sex teacher, but I was in love and not totally without experience. In an early college English class, a girl had loved my story and talked me into having sex with her. It was satisfying physically, but I sensed that something was missing. Tonight, that same thing would not be missing.

I crawled onto the bed and pulled her down with me. She clung tightly to me, kissing me so that I barely had time for a breath. She quickly spread her legs, and I certainly knew what to do from there on. She moaned every time I touched her and arched her hips against me. I was sure she was a virgin, but there was no way I could stop, and there was no way she'd let me stop. I awkwardly guided myself until I was at her opening. I tried to be gentle, but the urgent need I as feeling was fighting against it. "Oh Dale, yes, yes," she moaned as I entered her, pressing forward gently into her snugness. I wanted it to last forever, but that wasn't to be, and I filled her with stream after stream liquid, until I finally collapsed against her.

I knew there was more that needed to be done, so after catching my breathe, I began kissing her neck, and nippling her earlobe. My one hand slide along her chest and began entertaining her nipples. Having awoken them to firmness, I continued kissing her shoulder while my hand slowly slid south to the warm, moist crevasse of her inner thigh regions. I found myself recovering turgidness and within minutes I was craving a second tour of her inner delights.

Within a minute, her body began to shiver and spasm as she orgasmed in our bed for the first time. She wrapped my body tight in both arms and legs. She definitely didn t want my cock to leave. Her mouth opened wide, but no sound came out. She held her breath while her thighs tremored. Finally she exhaled, and began rapidly breathing again. It was not just an orgasm. It was an ecstasy. I knew it wouldn't be the last.

Surprising me, she said, "I hope we just made a baby."

I was mildly surprised that I hoped we had, too.

"I want to do that again, Dale. I've heard other ladies talk, but there are no words for what just happened between us. My body is still trembling, and there are little electric shocks going through me. Is it like that for you?"

"It's like that for me, but in my own way. And yes, I want to do that again."

Brooke giggled, a sexy little giggle. "Let's do it the next time in the living room, with all of the candles, flowers, and incense. It can be a once-in-a-lifetime thing."

We did just that, but I knew it wasn't a once-in-a-lifetime thing. There'd be anniversaries and other special occasions to celebrate, and if it wasn't Rita, the local florist; there'd be someone else to help make it happen.

I'd come to Caraway Hills looking for a writer's cabin but found so very much more.

Based on a post by PickFiction, for Literotica.