I cannot believe there isn't ONE Cady/Branch origin story on here. Or maybe I'm looking in the wrong place? I dunno. I'm working my way through season three of Longmire and I've been itching to see more of this 'ship and since I couldn't find anything I decided to write it myself. Mores the pity. I own nothing but the story.
xoxox
"Well, fancy meeting you here," came the smooth, smiling voice from behind her. Cady Longmire was checking into the Cheyenne Hilton, distracted with an email on her smartphone, trying to slip her wallet back into her purse and sign the front desk paperwork all at the same time. She angled her head and her mouth fell open at the signature white hat and strong jaw of Branch Connally.
"What...are you doing here?" she said, distractions fading.
"Working a case. You?"
"Conference for work. The sheriff's department springs for the Hilton?"
His smile widened and he shrugged slightly, acknowledging her point. "No, but luckily I've got a little socked away and I don't have to rely on the no-tell motel out by the interstate." She laughed and he sidled up to the front desk beside her to check in.
She and Branch had grown up together. He was a few years older but Absaroka County, though large in terms of space, was very small in terms of warm bodies. All through grade school and then high school she had been aware of him but he'd always run with the rich kids and the jocks. He was a football star and she was a bookworm. Now, as adults they were in each other's orbit much more often. He worked for her father and she and her father were close. She often felt guilty about this, but she had to admit that she was closer to her father than her mother. Even before she'd come home with a law degree she and her father could spar for hours over legal technicalities and precedents that had been set years ago. Her mother was...and she cringed every time she thought this...just a housewife. Cady had more to say to her father, more in common with her father, than with her mother. Which meant that every once in a while she'd see Branch Connally, either at her father's office, or more regularly, now that they both lived in the same town as the sherriff's office, at the Red Pony or the market or the Busy Bee. Their relationship had always been distantly friendly but lately there was something flirtatious in the way he spoke to her or nodded to her or, once, winked at her.
Now this. A hotel out of town.
"Penny for your thoughts," came that gentle, teasing voice again. Her reverie was interrupted and she realized that she'd been standing there, waiting for him to check in rather than heading off her own room. What was she waiting for? He stood before her all broad shoulders and jawbone. She'd always kind of secretly wondered what that strong, square jaw would feel like under her fingertips.
"Just admiring the view," she said, lifting a shoulder toward the giant glass doors of the hotel, too late realizing that the view was a concrete parking lot, which, though bathed in the soft orange glow of a setting sun, was still just a concrete parking lot.
"I forgot how funny you are," he laughed and she weakly joined in. "Hey, what are you doing for dinner? I just wrapped up and was gonna order room service but we could find someplace...?" The question hung there and she smiled.
"I have plans with some colleagues who are in for the conference. I'm sorry." As she said it she realized she really meant it. She was sorry she couldn't have dinner with him. All of a sudden her skin felt like it was on fire.
"No worries," he shrugged. "I'm back home tomorrow so maybe next time."
"Yeah," she agreed moving toward the bank of elevators, "next time."
The ride up to the seventh floor was quiet and when the bell rang and the doors slid open she smiled a small, sideways smile at him and rolled her bag out of the elevator. He smiled back at her and said, "See ya," before the elevators doors slid closed again, whisking him up to the 12th floor.
xoxox
Branch Connally strategically chose a seat at the hotel bar so that he had a view of the big glass front doors. Why was he doing this? He could not answer. Cady had been on the periphery of his world for years and in recent months he had to admit that that there was something about her that had caught him. She was so unlike all the other women in his life. She was so smart it almost intimidated him, and she was unbelievably gorgeous, and she never failed to make him laugh. He took a sip of his scotch and looked down at his phone, which had started buzzing.
He opened his email and saw a huffy message from Vic about what a pussy he was for not driving all night to get back home for work tomorrow morning. She would have to cover his shift. He was trying to decide whether to ignore it or reply with something equally huffy, just to egg her on, when a warm voice came from behind him, "Fancy meeting you here."
He turned and there she was. Cheeks flushed (the warm night? the wine?), russet hair slightly mussed from the wind, cheeky smile on her face. "What happened to room service?"
"I had it and then I decided on a little company."
"Company?" she mockingly observed the deserted bar.
"Yeah, aren't conferences supposed to fill up hotels?"
"Oh, it did. This place is a little on the expensive side and most people are staying either at the Hampton or the Fairfield." She pulled up a chair beside him.
"And you?"
"I don't like a crowd," she replied, meeting his eyes. Damn, she was flirting with him...
The bartender wandered over and broke the spell. She ordered a glass of wine.
"So what was the case you were working?" she asked.
He told her and then asked who she had dinner with. They ordered another round. She told him about her best friend from law school and the friend's ugly divorce.
They talked about his father, something he never did on a first date. But this wasn't a first date. This wasn't a date. And suddenly he was telling her about going into law enforcement as a deliberate middle finger to the old man. He was being...honest and vulnerable for god's sake. It was so not him, especially on a first date. But this wasn't a date.
She was frowning over his middle finger comment and suddenly he laughed. "You had that same look on your face that one and only time you got sent to detention in high school. You were so pissed off. I was sitting right next to you and you kept muttering, 'the injustice of it all.' "
"It was an injustice!" she burst out, laughing again. It had given her a moment's pause that his relationship with his father was so very different from her relationship with her father, but then he'd distracted her and she was smiling. "That bitch had no right to give me detention!" Now he was laughing hard at her indignation. "What did you do?"
"Nothing! No, really. That jackass Billy Simpson copied off me in math class but the idiot didn't bother to copy the entire formulas, just the answers, so it was obvious that he'd cheated. Since all of his answers matched all of my answers and he sat right behind me Mrs. Weaver though I'd let him. She wouldn't believe me." Branch was still laughing. She was so damn adorable. "What were you in for?"
"In for? You make it sound like prison," he teased.
"It was prison. Detention was bullshit."
"I don't remember what I was in for," which was a lie. He'd been given detention for doing something very mean to a kid much smaller than himself. It wasn't something he was proud of and it wasn't something he wanted to remind her of. He wasn't that person anymore.
"Hey, can I ask you a question?" Cady was leaning in now, and her cheeks were still flushed, definitely from the wine.
"Anything," he replied, leaning in himself. The closeness and the shared memories and laughter had created an intimacy that he didn't want to end.
"Is Branch a family name?" And suddenly they were laughing again.
He couldn't remember the last evening he'd enjoyed so much. And then it was over. The bartender was sliding the check toward them, a look of apology on his face as he nodded to the clock. Branch settled up, signing it all onto his room and then offered Cady a hand down off the fancy bar stool. And that's when he knew. With her hand in his he knew that he wanted her more than anything he'd ever wanted before. He squeezed her fingers gently and she squeezed back before letting go to gather her purse.
It was all happening too quickly. They were at the elevator, the doors opened and then closed and then opened again and she was getting out. "Walk you to your room?" he asked quickly, not wanting it to be over so soon. "Sure," she smiled.
Branch put his hand on the small of her back, and he was positive he felt her shiver. They were so close he felt he was drowning in the scent of her. He wanted to kiss her so badly and he was pretty sure she wanted to kiss him. Her steps slowed and she was standing in front of a door marked 741. "This is me," she said in a quiet voice. She had turned in his arm so that his hand now rested on her hip and they were just a breath apart. "Do you...want to come in for a night cap?"
"Yeah," he said, solemn, thumb stroking little circles against her hipbone. She turned again to push the plastic key into the door and her perfect bottom was against his front and immediately he closed is eyes and began to lose his mind. And then the door was open and she was pulling him into her room and her mouth was on his and her hands were touching his face, his neck, pushing into his hair.
He kissed her back just as urgently, his hands exploring her curves, and though the thought that he was about to have sex with his boss's daughter did occur to him he pushed it away as momentarily irrelevant. This is what he wanted. Cady. Soft, feminine, gorgeous Cady. Her hands had moved down now and they were making short work of the buttons on his shirt. He helped her with the last two and then pulled her blouse out of the waist of her skirt and over her head. She was wearing a black bra and the color against her pale, creamy skim almost undid him. He was kissing her neck, down her throat to her collarbone. They were skin to skin now and every time her torso touched his he went a little more crazy.
Cady was fumbling with the top button of his jeans and he knew she must be able to feel that he was so ready, so turned on by her. She finally got the button and made quick work of the zipper, pushing the denim down over his hips, leaving him in just a pair of navy blue boxer briefs. He couldn't figure out how to get her out of the skirt she was in so finally he just rucked it up to her hips, cupping her bottom and lifting her up so her legs went around her waist. He walked them into the room with his jeans dangling from one ankle and dropped them onto the bed where he continued to kiss her. She'd left one lamp burning and he was grateful to be able to see her. She was so beautiful. And naughty. Her hand was cupping him through his shorts and he groaned as she pulled them off. "You're way over dressed," he complained, pulling down the cup of her bra. Jesus, everything about her was beautiful. He suckled on her nipple and her hand stilled on him, and it was her turn to groan. "Branch," she gasped. "Oh, God."
His hands worked their way up under her skirt again and pulled off her panties. "Do you have..."
"Yeah, I got it," he replied, quickly reaching back for his jeans, tearing at the foil. And then he was back, nudging her legs apart, settling himself over her, kissing her, nuzzling her, entering her. She gasped. She was hot and tight and so very wet. He wanted to come right in that moment but knew he couldn't do that to her. Concentrating, he began to move, hoping to God he could hold out as long as it took for her to come too. Dear God, he wanted to make her come. He wanted her to feel something she'd never felt with anyone else.
She was meeting him now, stroke for stroke, lifting her hips and almost shouting. He put a hand between them and found her place. He watched her face as he carefully touched her center and he wasn't disappointed. She came with thunderous urgency, and he could feel the waves of convulsions as she tipped her head back and let it happen. When she'd quieted and he'd found his rhythm again she lifted her knees to give him better access and he thrust as deeply as he dared, not wanting to hurt her. She felt so damn good it was all he could do to hold out another minute or two. She was coming again and her hand found his cheek as he finally let go and lost control.
xoxox
Long moments later Cady got her breath back and realized the bulge against her back was the skirt that she'd never removed. Blushing, she pulled it down to cover herself and tucked her errant breast back into her bra cup, noting that this hadn't been the way she'd expected the evening to turn out. She'd seen him at the bar, checking his phone, and on a whim had gone in to say hello. She hadn't meant to stay and she certainly hadn't meant to sleep with him. Jesus, what the hell had she been thinking? He's hot, came the reply. That jaw, those shoulders, his stomach. Still, she was not this kind of a girl. She didn't just jump into bed with...well, okay he wasn't a stranger. She'd known him all her life. But he wasn't her type at all. What was the point playing around with someone who had no interest in girls like her?
She was still lying on her back when he returned from the bathroom and laid down next to her, on his side. He was still naked.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, lifting a hand to gently stroke her stomach.
"I don't know. I guess I'm pretty tired."
"You're thinking you're tired?"
"It's late."
He waited a beat and then said, half jokingly, "Was it that bad?"
"No!" she exclaimed, turning to face him. "No, it was great, amazing, I loved it," she said truthfully. She lifted a hand to touch his cheek. "Really. I'm just not sure what happens next. I'm trying to figure it out."
"Stop."
"Stop?"
"Yeah, stop thinking so hard. Just let it happen. Let's not talk about what we want or what we should do or feel. Let's just let it be."
"Very zen for a cop."
"All I know is I had really great night with someone I like a lot. If we see each other again, fantastic. If you don't want to, I can live with it, I guess."
"You guess?"
"I won't be happy about it," he murmured, still stroking her pale belly, leaning in to kiss her softly on the mouth. "I want you again. Properly this time, though."
"Properly?"
"Yeah. Properly. Slowly. With all your clothes off so I can see you and touch you and taste you."
She could feel her insides slowly melting. "Yeah," she replied. "Okay."
"Okay? Yeah?"
"Yeah," she repeated. "Okay."
"How about yes, please? God, yes? Sweet Jesus?" As he was saying this his hand had found it's way up her skirt and between her legs. In seconds she was wet and shaking again. "Ye-yes, please" she stammered. He kissed her and pulled his hand away before she could finish. "Take off your bra." She opened her eyes to find him staring at her. She was on her back again. How did that keep happening?
Shakily, she raised herself up to her knees and reached behind her to unhook the bra. She let it drop to the floor and her nipples immediately pebbled at the cool air of the room. Branch's body responded. She could see him respond and it was exhilarating.
"Now the skirt." Again she reached behind her and found the hook and zipper. Being ordered around was not something she'd expected to find hot, and yet that was exactly what was happening. She stood up just long enough to let the skirt drop to the floor. Her panties were long gone and she stood there completely naked and vulnerable. He pulled the blanket and sheets down then crawled on his knees to where she stood and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into the bed.
"God Almighty, you are gorgeous," he told her, kissing his way from her mouth to her breasts. He suckled her nipples and rolled them until she was almost bucking from the pleasure. And then he went further, kissing her belly-button, then the bone above her downy hair, then he put his mouth on her sweet, soft core and she did buck then, crying out from the release. She had never, ever, had a man so enthusiastically do this for her. Mostly the men she'd dated before were lawyers with soft hands who would do it when she asked and never because they liked it. Branch wasn't letting up, though. She'd lost track of the number of orgasms she'd had just now and she suddenly was struck by the thought that she never wanted it to end. And he seemed to be enjoying himself which was something she'd never experienced before. After a few more orgasms he lifted his head and said, "I'm sorry, I wanna keep going but I'm going to burst. You're so hot, I can't take it anymore. Do you mind?"
"God no, are you kidding," she gasped. "That's the best I've ever...I mean, you did more than enough. Can I...reciprocate?"
"Jesus I don't think so. Not now, Cady. I have to have you, I can wait any longer. Please."
"Okay, yeah, please, please. Do you have another?"
He reached for his jeans again and again she heard the foil rip open and then he was back again, warm and hard and pressed as close as he could get. The lovemaking was much slower this time. He pushed in gently and let her body adjust, kissing her neck and shoulders as they found their rhythm. He touched her center and she came over and over again. "Please!" she gasped. "Please don't ever stop!" Another wave hit her and the thought of never leaving her bed, of having this one incredible woman under him forever was too much and he gave in to the orgasm that had been building since the last one.
When he'd come back from the bathroom, he slid in beside her and pulled her close, smiling at the blissful look on her face.
"I could watch that for hours," he said casually.
"Watch what?" she asked without opening her eyes
"You, with that satisfied smile on your face." He lowered his voice and continued, "Or, you under me, coming. Take your pic."
"What about me, on top of you, coming?" she asked, cheekily, opening her eyes and pushing at him until he was lying on his back and her head fitted into the crook of his shoulder, her bare breasts against his side.
"So many wondrous possibilities," he murmured kissing the top of his head.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot."
"When you were...you know..."
"Mmm, no, you're going to have to be more specific." She could hear the smile in his voice and she blushed.
"I've just never had anyone else be so enthusiastic about the...the foreplay before, and I'm wondering if you like it. I don't think I've ever met a man who likes it."
His smile broadened and his arms pulled her in tight for a second before he replied, "When it's with you and you're making those noises deep in your throat and I know what comes next, I really like it."
"Oh," she said, perma-smile fixed on her face. "Me, too."
"I could tell." She blushed again. "Do you mind if I stay the night?"
"No, why?"
"I gotta get up early and head home, don't wanna bother you when I head out but I also really don't wanna leave your bed." This made her frown. She felt that she had just, by complete accident, found something precious and she wasn't ready to let it go yet.
"Head home? Can't you stay a few days? I'm here till Sunday."
"I would like nothing more but Vic has already impugned my manhood once for not driving back tonight in time for my 7 AM shift tomorrow."
This was like a bucket of cold water and she was quiet for a long time.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie to a cop, Cady. We can tell."
"I just...I'm not ready to be done with this and I was wondering if you ARE ready and that's why you're letting Vic dictate when you go home." He was not imagining the snippiness of her tone.
"Why does it have to be done just because we go home? Is there some kind of law against people seeing each other in Absaroka County?" He kept his voice even but the sarcasm was hard to miss.
"No, but..." she had no answer. None that she could voice anyway.
"But what?" he whispered, squeezing her again.
"I don't think we should make this public at home. I don't think certain people would handle it well."
"Maybe not, but that's their problem."
"That's not fair. He's my dad and he doesn't..." she'd almost let the cat outta the bag.
"Doesn't like me? It's no secret, believe me."
"Then why would you want to poke the bear? I don't see why we have to say anything to anyone, especially since right now we're just two people who've had sex twice."
"Ouch," he replied. "My enthusiasm meant that little to you?"
"No, that's not what I meant. Of course that's not what I meant. Look, we're not dating, we're not seeing each other, we're not engaged, there's nothing, really, to talk about."
"But I want to see you," he said quietly. "I didn't know it until tonight but I do. Are you really saying you don't feel the same way?"
"No. I'm just saying...let's keep it quiet for now. When the time is right, if things get serious enough, we can go from there."
"Okay," he said after some thought. "I'm fine with that."
"Thank you. By the way, how many do you have left?"
"I don't travel with a huge stash," he said with real regret. "I'm afraid I'm out."
"Mmm. Maybe I could show you some enthusiasm.
"Dear God, woman. You keep this up and there just might be a ring on your finger by tomorrow morning."
She shivered at the thought. She wasn't ready for marriage but she knew she wanted him and would trust that things would, hopefully, eventually, work out the way they should.
Fin.