by C. Morgan
Then, I pulled out a few coupons I printed out this morning.
“Wow, you really came prepared,” she said.
But as I looked in the cart, something about the blueberries didn’t look right.
Shit.
“Are you all set, sir?” the cashier asked.
I picked up the blueberries and turned them over, looked at them from the bottom. I don’t know, I couldn’t place why they didn’t look right. They just… didn’t.
“Jake? Everything okay?” Liv asked.
I sighed. “Okay. I’m going out on a limb here. Part of being an adult is knowing when to ask for help. Right?”
She paused. “Sure. Yeah. What’s wrong?”
“Do these blueberries look right to you?”
And when I handed them over, I didn’t get a look of disappointment like I figured I would. Instead, I watched her look the blueberries over and pop the plastic open, something I didn’t know someone could do in a grocery store.
Then, she shook her head.
“No, ma’am. We’re not ready yet. I’m sorry. We need a fresher container of blueberries,” she said.
Chapter 12
Liv
“I didn’t know you could open containers like that in the grocery store,” Jake said.
I grinned. “You can pluck grapes off and pop them in your mouth, too, to see how crisp they are.”
“You can eat the food in the grocery store without paying for it?”
I laughed. “There are some unwritten rules, yes. So, let’s start with the blueberries. Do you know why they looked weird to you?”
“No. I just know they did.”
“Because these are what fresh ones look like.”
I held up a container of full, juicy blueberries, and I knew he saw the difference instantly.
“Got it. Okay,” he said.
“Always check for that little white side of the blueberries. That means they’re still fresh. Don’t ask me why. But that little white part fades as they get less fresh.”
“Is that the same for all produce? Do they all have that white part?”
I shook my head. “They don’t. For instance, take this tomato.”
I plucked one from the bin next to me and held it up.
“It’s a very ripe tomato. Bright red. There’s a bit of give on the outside, but not much. Feel it. Go on.”
He took it from me and squeezed softly.
“Okay,” he said.
“See this one here? It’s got a bit of green still. And it’s very hard to the touch. This isn’t ripe yet. You don’t want this one.”
“Green and hard, no good. Got it.”
I nodded. “And this one, here? The really squishy one? Overripe. You don’t want that either.”
He grimaced. “Wrinkles bad, got it.”
“Tomatoes go very well with extra-virgin olive oil, though. Sautee them up with some mushrooms and onions and garlic cloves and you’ve got the basis for a really good spaghetti sauce there.”
He blinked. “Did you say extra virgin?”
I paused. “Yeah. Extra-virgin olive oil?”
“How the hell can something be extra virgin? It’s not the dorky kid in class, Liv.”
I laughed. “I know you’re talking about Mac. And he’s actually a ladies’ man, now.”
He put the blueberries in the cart. “I’m not going to ask how you know that.”
I laughed all the way to the checkout line, where Jake proceeded to use the coupons to pay for things. We drove to his house with the groceries at my feet, and when I entered his parents’ home, smells assaulted me. Barbecue sauce. Ribs. Biscuits. Butter.
“My parents are out for the night at some card game. So, I figured we’d have more space here,” he said.
“It smells great in here,” I said breathlessly.
“I just need to put this crisp together. Because once the ribs come out, this has to go in. Give me a sec.”
I followed him into the kitchen. “Take your time. I’m just going to keep sniffing the air.”
I leaned against the kitchen island and closed my eyes. I heard Jake softly cursing to himself and slamming around pots and pans. It made me grin, hearing him work like this. I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into those ribs.
But soon, something burning filled the air.
“Shit,” Jake hissed.
My eyes whipped open, and I rushed to his side.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Hold on. Just—give me a second.”
Though, I spotted the problem immediately.
“Low heat. Not high heat. Come here,” I said.
I reached over him and turned the burner on the stove down. He pulled the pan off the stove and groaned to himself. I watched him fiddle with his phone. He tossed it onto the counter. He kept scrolling through it as he moved the blueberries and sugar around, trying to save it.
“High heat doesn’t mean something cooks quicker. It just means you have a greater chance of burning it,” I said.
“Yeah. Got that now,” he murmured.
I felt bad for him. Really, I did. He was trying so hard. And grocery shopping with him had been fun. So, I picked up his cell phone from the kitchen counter. I turned it off and took the pan from him. I settled it onto a new stove burner, turning it on mid-low heat. Then, I pointed to the grocery bags.
“Hand me a few more blueberries and the sugar, please,” I said.
“Liv, I can do this,” Jake said.
“I know you can. But I want to help. This doesn’t count against you. I—”
His eyes found mine, and I smiled up at him.
“I like this. Being in the kitchen with you.”
When he smiled, my heart skipped a beat.
“Do you remember the morning after our wedding ceremony?” Jake asked.
I laughed. “How could I forget?”
He handed me the ingredients. “I was so hungover, and trying so hard to make you breakfast.”
“While I dealt with the aftermath of all the carbonated juice I drank.”
He chuckled. “Why did you let me make a mess of those flapjacks again?”
“What? You act as if I had any control over you back then. You were the one who made the mess. Rambling off about how you could take care of your ‘newly pregnant wifey.’”
“And then it got stuck on the damn ceiling.”
“Yeah, before dropping onto my head. That stain is still on the ceiling, you know. For some reason, it always bleeds through. No matter how much paint I put over the damn thing.”
He sighed. “I was a dumb-ass back then, Liv.”
“We were young and scared. Trying our best. That’s all we can do, Jake.”
He added a bit of milk to the pan. “But tonight? I make that meal up with this one. A nice one. A homemade one. Prepared just for you.”
I like how this feels. “And not stuck on the ceiling.”
He chuckled. “No. Not stuck on the ceiling at all.”
Chapter 13
Jake
Sure, the dessert was a bit “well done.” And yeah, it didn’t turn out as pretty as the pictures on the internet. But I was proud of that damn dessert. The ribs, too. The way Liv hummed and moaned over them made my chest swell with pride. And watching the way she went back for seconds told me all I needed to know.
I’d done well.
She has to be impressed by this.
“You know, I think I might like to try a chicken and dumplings recipe soon,” I said.
“Hmm?” she asked.
“Or possibly try a crème brûlée.”
She swallowed hard. “Crème brûlée?”
“Oh, yeah. It seems easy enough. Just need to find a kitchen torch to crisp up the sugar on the top.”
“Okay, haus. Why don’t we pull it back there a second?”
She giggled, but I didn’t know why. Did she not think I was capable of doing something like that?
“What?” I asked.
“I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself.”
“Why do you think that?”
She picked up her bowl. “See this? The black bits?”
I rolled my eyes. “It would’ve been fine had you not ripped the pan from me.”
“Those black bits were already there by the time I took the pan from you.”
“Semantics.”
She laughed. “For desserts, we can try easier recipes. If that’s the kind of thing you want to learn. But baking isn’t on your list. Only cooking.”
“And since you went back for seconds, I assume I nailed it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Your dinner was really good.”
I grinned. “Knew it.”
“But you need to tone things down for desserts. Try easier things. Maybe some canned things that are easier to bake. So you can get the feel for a stove top and an oven and see how temperature and things affect what you’re doing.”
“You mean like canned biscuits with honey?”
“Sure.”
“Or, canned cinnamon buns with a homemade cream cheese drizzle?”
“Maybe use the drizzle that comes with the canned cinnamon buns first.”
I smiled wickedly. “Sounds like you’re staying for breakfast in the morning, then.”
She laughed heartily. But she didn’t say no.
“You want some whipped cream to cover up those black spots?” I asked.
She stopped laughing. “Wait, wait, wait. You’ve had whipped cream this entire time, and you didn’t tell me?”
I snickered. “Didn’t realize you were such a whipped cream fan.”
“Get the whipped cream, man! What are you doing still sitting here?”
I chuckled as I got up. I walked over to the fridge and pulled out the can from the fridge door. I turned around and saw her eyes fall to the can before she shook her head.
“Think fast,” I said quickly.
I tossed it to her, and she squealed. But she caught it. She sprayed some onto her warm dessert and watched it melt in a bit. Then, she handed it back to me. I sprayed some directly onto my spoon. I ate it right in front of her as she took a bite of the crisp. I filled my spoon up with whipped cream again and held it up to her lips, coaxing her to take a bite.
“Come on, you know you want to,” I said.
She looked down at the spoon before her lips parted. I eased the cream between her lips, watching as she wrapped them around my spoon. I felt my cock stiffen. I pulled it from her mouth and listened to her giggle. She held her hand up while she swallowed. And when her hand dropped, I took stock of the cream still on her lips.
“You got some right—right there,” I said.
“Here?” she asked.
Her tongue darted around, and she kept missing the spot, and the harder she tried to get it, the more I chuckled. I scooted my chair closer to her and motioned with my finger. Her tongue wiped around her lips, making me laugh even harder.
“Come on. This isn’t funny. Where’s my napkin?” Liv asked.
Then, an idea struck me.
I gripped her chin and turned her eyes back to mine. I leaned forward, hovering my lips over the stain of cream she kept missing. My eyes locked with hers as I kissed her lips, licking the whipped cream left behind from her skin.
“There. All better,” I murmured.
Heat filled her eyes as her hands touched against my thighs. I felt her nose nuzzle softly against mine. Her breath smelled like sugar. Her lips tasted like blueberry cream. I reached for the can of whipped cream and shook it softly, bringing the nozzle between us. She gasped and looked down. I pulled back just a tad. And after squeezing a bit to the top, I lined her lips with it.
Before I crashed my mouth against hers.
Chapter 14
Liv
I moaned down the back of his throat as his body invaded mine. I slipped the whipped cream can out of his hand as his tongue fell down the back of my throat. He rose up from his chair, his hands exploring my body, fisting my ass cheeks and massaging the backs of my thighs before hoisting me against his body. I sprayed the cream against his neck. I heard him groan as I licked down his skin, nibbling and sucking, marking a soft trail down his pulse point as he walked us out of the kitchen.
“Fucking hell, Liv. The things you do to me.”
I dolloped his skin with cream and raked my teeth against his skin. He carried me up the steps of his childhood home, making a beeline for his bedroom. He kicked his door closed behind him and ripped the can away from me, and after laying me down on the bed, he shoved my shirt and bra up, covering my tits in sugary foam before diving face-first into them.
“Jake,” I moaned.
Our clothes came off in a flurry. We rolled around in his bed as they fell to the floor. He traced my body with the tip of that can, drawing down my breasts, my nipples, my stomach, before drawing an arrow pointing straight to my pussy. His body fell to mine. His tongue licked up the mess he made with the sugary treat. I rolled against him as he bit into my skin, sucking dark spots in his journey toward my center.
“Jake, oh!”
“That’s it,” he grunted.
My legs slipped over his shoulders. His tongue fell between my pussy folds. He drank me down, offering his mouth up as a sacrifice while I bucked ravenously against him. My head spun with ecstasy. His tongue pressed deeply against my clit. I raked against his tongue, chasing my high as my bare heels dug into his back.
Until I fell over the edge chanting his name.
He rushed up my body. Our lips crashed together. The taste of whipped cream and my scented musk melded together, captivating my senses. I felt him slide effortlessly into me, filling me up and spreading my walls. He invaded my senses, and I adored it. He fit perfectly to me, and I loved it.
I felt myself falling for him all over again.
Like I did all those years ago.
“Jake.”
“Liv.”
“Jake, that’s it. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“Never. Never. I’ll never stop, Liv.”
“Please!”
“Come for me, gorgeous.”
“Oh, yeah, baby.”
My back arched. His face fell to my neck. He sank his teeth into me as my pussy vibrated around his cock. My broken breaths filled the space around us. His growls rattled my rib cage. And as his cock poured into me, my eyes rolled back, triggering yet another orgasm as my body soared.
He sank against me and swiveled his hips. He tickled my sensitive clit with his tightly wound curls, causing me to gasp for air. My nails raked down his back. My body shivered for more, and as my pussy pushed his cock out from between my legs, he collapsed against me with his racing heart fluttering against mine.
“Oh, Jake,” I whispered.
It was the last thing I remembered, being blanketed by him after sighing his name. I fell asleep in bed with him. And when my eyes fluttered open, I saw his sleeping face, peaceful, restful, with a soft grin upon his cheeks. I smiled as the sleep cleared from my eyes and the sun streamed heavily through the curtains of his bedroom.
It had felt like this during our honeymoon phase.
He left you three weeks later, though.
And as I lay there next to him, fear rose up in my gut.
Fear, it seemed, that wouldn’t abate itself anytime soon.
Chapter 15
Jake
My eyes fell open and I found Liv looking at me through hazy, tired eyes, and the look on her face was one akin to worry. I drew in a deep breath and stretched, feeling her molding to me as she cuddled in tighter. I yawned deeply and stretched until my entire body shook. Her head slid against my chest, and I sighed with relief.
But I couldn’t shake the face I’d woken up to.
“Morning.”
“Hey there,” she said.
Her voice was impossibly clear. It made me wonder how long she’d already been up.
“You hungry? Pretty sure there’s so
me canned cinnamon buns waiting for us downstairs.”
She giggled. “I actually have to get home so I can get ready for work.”
“Want me to drive you to work?”
“Nah, that’s okay. I can get there myself.”
“Suit yourself. Guess you’ll have to wait until our hot date at the laundromat tonight.”
She kissed my chest. “Pick me up from work around four?”
I stroked my fingers through her hair. “It’s a date.”
We rolled out of bed and managed to piece ourselves together. I crept downstairs, wondering if my parents had gotten home, but I didn’t see their car outside. Huh. Funny. I’d never known them to not come home after a card game. Then again, I’d been gone for five years. Things had changed in that span of time.
Including me.
I opened doors for Liv and helped her into my truck. I drove her home and managed to get a quick peck of a kiss from her before she scurried into the apartment. I watched her climb the steps. She peeked over the railing and waved at me. I felt my heart slam against my chest as I waved at her.
Then, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
Shit, I forgot to plug it in last night.
Percy: It’s about time we got together again! Drinks and wings tonight? On me this time.
I read the text message from my best friend, then quickly messaged him back.
Me: I’m busy tonight. But what about lunch? I’m free for lunch.
I sent the text off, then made my way back home. And still, my parents weren’t back. Damn it, if they didn’t show up, I was liable to send a search party for them. But until then, I readied myself for tonight. I walked around the house and gathered up dirty clothes, both my own and things Dad had lying around the house. I stuffed it all into a massive bag, then went in search of some detergent and stain remover and anything else I figured I might need for tonight.
“Oh, dryer sheets. Can’t forget those,” I murmured.
After confirming lunch plans with Percy, I cleaned up the house a bit, including the mess Liv and I had left behind last night after dinner. I put away the leftovers and threw out the burnt crisp. I washed the plates and placed them in the countertop holder to let them drip-dry. I took a picture for Liv and sent it to her at work. And the caption? “See, cooking and cleaning. Would ya look at that?”
