seat.
This was one hell of a wedding day.
Only management and certain support staff knew the location of the conjugal cabin. Years prior, the company had deemed it necessary to only allow married men to have women on site. It had to be scheduled, approved, and planned. Nadine’s arrival had broken all of the rules. Marc’s only hope had been to marry her right away and get the documentation to the company. Technically, after the fax, he was in compliance. There was a record of her arrival, and documentation on file that he was married; now, to keep her safe until he got her ass on a plane and out of here was a totally different concern.
As he drove to the cabin, Marc explained that most of the men on site were single. The first year of your contract you worked straight through for 18 months; after that, you get a thirty-day break. Men who choose to renew the contract and return have to sign up again for one year, with a 10 day break every six months. “Most of the guys just go to Anchorage to blow off some steam,” he told her as he pushed the truck to about 70 miles an hour across the frozen tundra. This weekend, there was a scheduled celebration before the coldness and harshness of winter kicked in; he mentioned a beast feast of native game and women.
“This is a good thing, they will be distracted and we can slip away,” he said as he looked down at the seat.
Nadine remained quiet because her feelings were still kind of hurt. He still had not kissed her as if he was happy to see her, nor said if he had even missed her. They were married, though. Butterflies had started to roll around in her stomach and for an instant she thought it was something more. Maybe it was just hunger and she still had to pee.
Moments later, they arrived at the cabin. The fire was going and Marc stood her in the corner like a child. His weapon was unholstered as he checked the bedroom, under the bed, looked in the bathroom, pulled back the shower curtain, and even scanned the ceiling and shelves for hidden cameras. When he was finally satisfied, he removed her parka and sat her in front of the fire. With ease and care he removed her boots, her jeans and the sweater she wore underneath. Her feet and hands were checked to ensure she had not gotten too cold and he went back to her ankles and noticed the slight pooch of her tummy. “I need to get you hydrated. It will take care of some of the swelling around your ankles, wrist, and tummy after such an extended flight.”
She had just started to sip at the water when a knock came at the door of the cabin. Marc quickly checked his weapon, and ensured there were enough rounds in the clip while pushing her into the bathroom. Every item of clothing he had removed from her was shoved into her hand, and he put his fingers to his lips indicating that she should stay quiet and hidden. She couldn’t wait any longer, she had to go. It felt as if she peed for at least five minutes.
It was no surprise to Marc to see his supervisor at the door. The only reason Vincent Horne had been allowed inside was to keep the cabin warm. Vincent was one of the best engineers in the world and Marc respected his knowledge on the job, in the field, and trusted him with his life. He did not, however, trust him with his woman. Vincent was the first to speak.
“So I hear you had a live package to arrive, Deasley,” he said while peering over and around Marc’s shoulder.
Marc pulled the papers from his back pocket, “Yes, my wife came for a surprise visit. I have faxed over the marriage certificate to HR and filed the paperwork with corporate letting them know she is on site for a few days.” Vincent knew that Marc
This was one hell of a wedding day.
Only management and certain support staff knew the location of the conjugal cabin. Years prior, the company had deemed it necessary to only allow married men to have women on site. It had to be scheduled, approved, and planned. Nadine’s arrival had broken all of the rules. Marc’s only hope had been to marry her right away and get the documentation to the company. Technically, after the fax, he was in compliance. There was a record of her arrival, and documentation on file that he was married; now, to keep her safe until he got her ass on a plane and out of here was a totally different concern.
As he drove to the cabin, Marc explained that most of the men on site were single. The first year of your contract you worked straight through for 18 months; after that, you get a thirty-day break. Men who choose to renew the contract and return have to sign up again for one year, with a 10 day break every six months. “Most of the guys just go to Anchorage to blow off some steam,” he told her as he pushed the truck to about 70 miles an hour across the frozen tundra. This weekend, there was a scheduled celebration before the coldness and harshness of winter kicked in; he mentioned a beast feast of native game and women.
“This is a good thing, they will be distracted and we can slip away,” he said as he looked down at the seat.
Nadine remained quiet because her feelings were still kind of hurt. He still had not kissed her as if he was happy to see her, nor said if he had even missed her. They were married, though. Butterflies had started to roll around in her stomach and for an instant she thought it was something more. Maybe it was just hunger and she still had to pee.
Moments later, they arrived at the cabin. The fire was going and Marc stood her in the corner like a child. His weapon was unholstered as he checked the bedroom, under the bed, looked in the bathroom, pulled back the shower curtain, and even scanned the ceiling and shelves for hidden cameras. When he was finally satisfied, he removed her parka and sat her in front of the fire. With ease and care he removed her boots, her jeans and the sweater she wore underneath. Her feet and hands were checked to ensure she had not gotten too cold and he went back to her ankles and noticed the slight pooch of her tummy. “I need to get you hydrated. It will take care of some of the swelling around your ankles, wrist, and tummy after such an extended flight.”
She had just started to sip at the water when a knock came at the door of the cabin. Marc quickly checked his weapon, and ensured there were enough rounds in the clip while pushing her into the bathroom. Every item of clothing he had removed from her was shoved into her hand, and he put his fingers to his lips indicating that she should stay quiet and hidden. She couldn’t wait any longer, she had to go. It felt as if she peed for at least five minutes.
It was no surprise to Marc to see his supervisor at the door. The only reason Vincent Horne had been allowed inside was to keep the cabin warm. Vincent was one of the best engineers in the world and Marc respected his knowledge on the job, in the field, and trusted him with his life. He did not, however, trust him with his woman. Vincent was the first to speak.
“So I hear you had a live package to arrive, Deasley,” he said while peering over and around Marc’s shoulder.
Marc pulled the papers from his back pocket, “Yes, my wife came for a surprise visit. I have faxed over the marriage certificate to HR and filed the paperwork with corporate letting them know she is on site for a few days.” Vincent knew that Marc
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