Baby Gravy
A Second Helpings Short Story
Frankie Love
Copyright
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Edited by
Teresa Banschbach
ICanEdit4U
Copyright © 2018 by Frankie Love
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Baby Gravy
1. Russet
2. Autumn
3. Russet
4. Autumn
One Year Later…
Also by Frankie Love
About the Author
Baby Gravy
A Second Helpings Romance
It’s been four years since I saw my best friend’s sister.
Back then, I wasn’t ready for forever — and Autumn wanted one thing: a bun in the oven.
Now, I’m home from the Marines and am ready to give her everything she craves.
I’m hungry as hell and it’s time for our second helping at love.
When I join her family for Thanksgiving dinner, she wasn’t expecting me to be there.
And she comes with a date.
I missed out on giving her what she wanted last time — I won’t make the same mistake twice.
I’m not leaving this holiday without giving her my baby gravy.
She knows she wants it: thick and creamy and finger lickin’ good.
The season’s about gratitude, right?
Well, I’ll give my girl a reason to thank God I’m back in town.
Dear Reader,
I saved the juiciest piece for you!
This one is deliciously insane and a little more punny than you’re used to.
Don’t worry, this lil’ story will make that drive to your in-laws as sweet as candied yams and sexier than basting that bird!
XO, frankie
#ButterMyBiscuits #CornThatCob #GreenBeanMyCasserole #MashMyPotatoes #ThatLastOneMakesNoSense #DoAnyOfThem #SorryNotSorry
***This is a super short story that’s part of the Second Helpings series … all Thanksgiving-dinner themed standalones!
Check out all the fun and quick holiday stories by these other incredible authors: Sierra Hill, Alexis Adaire, Tessa Blake, Olivia Hawthorne, Laney Powell, Vivian Ward, Derek Masters, Dori Lavelle, Sher Dillard and Tracy Lorraine.
Russet
I’ve spent four years as a Marine.
Four long, hard years where I’ve been putting my life on the line for my country. I’ve seen shit, I’ve done shit.
And it’s taught me a lot of things.
But one thing rises to the top of that list.
All that bullshit — the stuff I used to think mattered: fucking around, being my own man — it means nothing.
Not when there is a woman at home.
The woman.
The one and only woman that matters.
The one whose heart I broke the day I left.
She wanted forever; she was willing to commit. To me. A man with no money, no house, no place to put down roots.
She was willing to go all in. And I walked away, scared. Scared of that kind of commitment. She was only eighteen. The last thing a girl as perfect as Autumn Wood needed was her older brother’s best friend knocking her up and ruining her life. And that is just what I would’ve done.
Now I’m back. Putting on a clean shirt and running a hand over my cropped hair, I know I don’t look so different than when I was saw her last, but inside?
Inside I’m a changed man.
My phone buzzes and I reach for it.
Grayson: You coming? Mom says dinner is in an hour.
Me: Yep, even bringing her flowers.
Grayson: Suck up.
Me: You know she’s always been like a mom to me.
Grayson: I know, fucker, just messin’. See you soon, it’s been a long ass time and everyone’s asking about you.
I pause, my thumbs on the keypad. I want to ask if Autumn has been wondering how I’ve been … but I know she wouldn’t want me to. She didn’t want anyone to know about our stolen kisses the summer I left, the summer she graduated high school and was willing to throw caution to the wind.
She wanted me. Bad.
I wanted her. I just didn’t know how to show her.
The only reason I never slept with her before I left was knowing that a girl like her deserved so much more than I could give. I wasn’t going to take her virginity if I wasn’t prepared to hold her heart.
Now? Now I’ll fucking cradle her in my arms to the day I die.
I get in the truck I rented for the month I’m home, and lock up the extended stay motel room. Not exactly classy, but I’m headed back to duty after Christmas. Most Marines have family to go home to. I was never that guy. Family was a four-letter word to me. I grew up in foster care, and by the grace of God I had the foresight to enlist when I was nineteen. If I hadn’t I don’t want to think about where I’d have ended up.
So, I don’t have a place to call home, but when Gunney told me I needed to use some of my leave, I knew in my heart it was time.
Time to go back for Autumn. I’ve been dying to ask Grayson about her, but I know it will start a conversation I’m not prepared to finish. I need to speak with her before I speak to anyone else.
Stopping at the grocery store on my way to the Woods’ house, I run in for the flowers for Lindy. When I’m in the checkout line, I see Johanna Smith behind the register.
“Wow, it’s Thanksgiving not Halloween,” she says, crossing her arms. “So explain to me why I’m seeing a ghost.”
“Hey, Jo,” I say, running a hand over my smooth jaw. “Long time.”
“Yeah, real long.”
The flowers move closer on the conveyor belt and I wait for her to grab them. She doesn’t.
“You know, lots of people talking about you. You some hero now, right?”
“Not so sure about all that,” I say, clearing my throat. I hate attention like this, though I’ve been getting it a lot for the last few weeks since receiving the Marine Corps Medal.
“You rescued, like, an entire family from drowning. It’s crazy. I mean, you were always such a …”
I frown. I know how this ends. The way I’m seen with my Marine brothers is very different than how people in Meadow Hollow see me. Here, I’m the screw up, the teenager getting kicked out of class, smoking and drinking way too much.
“People change,” I say, nodding toward the flowers.
Johanna reaches for them. “Who are these for?” she asks as she rings them up.
“Lindy Wood, headed to Grayson and Autumn’s place for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“I know that.” She smirks. “Well, tell Grayson I said hi, and let him know I get off at four.”
“Will do,” I say. Since when does Grayson spend time with Johanna Smith? She was always so damn judgmental.
“Everyone in town has been talking about how you were on the news. Everyone is just really proud of you.” She twists her lips before continuing. “And, Russet, I know I’ve been a bitch in the past, and coming from me, this probably doesn’t really matter, but I’m really proud of what you did in the Indian Ocean. The world needs more real heroes right now.”
I wave goodbye, wondering what universe I live in now where I’m g
etting well wishes from girls like Johanna Smith, but I don’t have time to dwell on how she’s changed.
But as I drive to the Woods’ house, I can’t help but worry.
Has Autumn changed too?
Autumn
“Just don’t be weird,” I say, applying my lipstick in Tommy’s new Honda Civic as he drives us to my mom’s house.
“Why would I be weird?” he asks. “You’re the one who’s been totally bent out of shape about his dumbass holiday.”
I press my red lips together. “Tommy, first of all, it’s not a dumb holiday. It’s Thanksgiving. My favorite holiday of the year.”
He laughs, pulling up to the house. There are already a few cars here. “Yeah, not surprised.” He pinches my waist, my little muffin top playfully. “You like second helpings, don’t you?”
I swat his hand away. Maybe some guys could get away with touching my tummy — but Tommy doesn’t say it to be sweet. He is a jerk, something I’m beginning to realize as we spend more time together.
“You know, if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to,” I tell him. We’ve only been dating a few months. And dating is a relative term. He has never actually taken me out anywhere.
But I asked Tommy before I knew Russet would be here.
Now I feel like this is all wrong.
“What and miss a home cooked meal?” He scowls. “Hell no. I’m coming in.”
“Won’t your parent miss you?” I ask. When we first met I thought he was the whole package. He had a car. Was going to college. And had family around. Turns out, none of that really matters. He’s kind of a jerk. And money doesn’t make a man.
I swallow.
I know what makes a man.
A real man.
“Nah. I’ll go swing by their place later, for dessert.”
“Alright. Just … be nice.”
“God, you’re acting so uptight. What’s the deal?”
We get out of the car and I straighten my dark green dress. It has yellow and orange leaves embroidered on the neckline. Leaves I embroidered myself. I wanted to look extra nice today.
Well, and my lacy bra and panty set might say I want to look more than nice.
Why in the world am I bringing Tommy?
As I walk to the door, I know why. Tommy is my armor today. I haven’t seen Russet since he left for boot camp … the day he turned down my heart. The day he walked away.
In the end, those kisses all summer, those caresses, the way his calloused fingers laced with mine, meant nothing.
I’m scared to see him again. Scared of the emotions I might have.
Tommy wraps an arm around my waist. “You look hot in that little dress. Maybe later we can finally hook up. For reals.”
I swallow, reaching to open the screen door. Knowing there is literally no way I am sleeping with Tommy. Ever.
I haven’t saved my virginity all this time to share it with him.
Pushing open the door I pray that this isn’t awkward. I never told my brother or Mom about how Russet broke my heart … and honestly? I don’t want them to know.
I was mortified when he left me. I was so ready to share my life with him, go all in.
He left.
The moment we step inside, we’re greeted with the most amazing smells. Mom really outdid herself, but I know she really wanted to make it special for Russet, especially in light of his bravery this past month.
If I wasn’t good enough for him before, it’s a whole new level now. Now he is a hero. And when I look up and see him walking in the room — I know he’s more than a hero.
He was my first love.
It’s the truth: I loved him.
Love him.
I always have and I fear I always will.
And he is so, so, hot today. His button-up shirt strains at the shoulders and biceps in a way that sends a tingle up and down my spine. His hair is shaved short on the sides, but just long enough on tip to run your hands through. My fingers itch to touch him.
“Autumn,” he says. “It’s been so long.” He pulls me into a hug. A hug Tommy or Grayson would think is friendly. A regular old ‘my older brother’s best friend is home from active duty’ hug.
But it is so much more than that.
He smells like he just stepped out a shower. Gone is the cigarette smoke on his clothes, the bottle of beer in his hand. But those were never really his smells. They were his defenses against a world that beat him up and broke him down.
Now, I breathe him in and it sends a current of familiarity over me. Old Spice and maple syrup, and if I could kiss his lips I bet I’d taste the lingering pancakes he ate for breakfast. He always had a sweet tooth.
He holds me, and I know then he is breathing me in too. And I want the room to disappear. For Tommy to have never come and Grayson and Mom to walk into the kitchen, and I want to ask him why he never wrote. Never called. Never tried.
When he steps back, and I look into his eyes, I know the answer to those questions will have to wait. His eyes are already glassy and we’ve hardly said a word.
“I missed you,” I tell him. It’s the simple truth, the heart of it. I’ve missed Russet for four years and I’m tired of waiting for him to come home.
He is here now.
“Oh, sweetheart, you look so nice,” Mom says, giving me a big hug. She purses her lips when she sees Tommy. She isn’t a fan.
“It smells really good, Ms. Wood,” Tommy says, giving her a smile.
She pats him on the shoulder, she may not be thrilled he’ at the table, but she isn’t going to be unkind, it isn’t her way. “I’m glad to hear it Tommy, I’ve been working in the kitchen all morning.”
“I offered to come help,” I say.
“I know, dear, but you know how I am about my kitchen, it’s about the only place in this world I feel like I can relax and have some fun.”
I look at my mother. “You know I love cooking as much as you do, I think I’m gonna have to get my own family if I ever want to make a holiday meal.”
Mom laughs, and she knows it’s true. She’s never going to pass on the apron-baton.
My mom raised us on her own, working at the county courthouse her entire adult life, taking care us and making sure all our needs were met. I’m so lucky to have her.
“Anyways, kids, dinner is ready. Grayson, Tommy, will you help me carry in the food?”
They shuffle into the kitchen and I pull off my coat, hanging it at the end of the hall. When I turn, Russet is there. It’s dark in the hallway, and he steps closer and I can’t think or breathe. I just want. I want him.
Always him.
“I’m sorry, Autumn. For leaving. I’ve missed you. So damn bad.”
“Don’t start this if you aren’t going to finish it,” I say, trying to protect myself.
“I deserve that, and more,” he says, stepping close enough that I could wrap my arms around his neck, sink against his chest. Never let go.
“No you don’t,” I say. “You’re a hero now. And … I never expected you to come back … back for me.”
“I’m here now. And I know what I want.”
I don’t want to cry. Not here, not in front of everyone. I blink furiously, scared of saying too much and having him run off again. I don’t want him to go. I never did.
But also, I don’t want to hide behind the truth, be something I’m not. There is no denying who I am at my core.
His.
“Well, I still want the same things,” I tell him, refusing to get my hopes up. “It hasn’t changed.”
“Before I left,” he says, “you said you wanted to be my wife, to have my babies. You were so young. You really still want the same things?”
I nod.
“I don’t care if it sounds lame. I always believed in you, Russet. In us.”
“And you want to make a life with me?” He wraps an arm around my waist. He is no longer a nineteen year old boy. He is a man. His hands are big, he knows how to hold me. I don’t wa
nt him to let me go.
“I want to make you a Thanksgiving dinner in our own house. Mashed potatoes. Plenty of gravy.”
“I’m the one who can give you the real gravy, Autumn.” His mouth is on my ear. The day has changed so quickly. One minute I’m annoyed with Tommy, and the next I am in the arms of the man I love.
“What kind of gravy?” I ask, my heart pounding, my pussy aching. I want Russet. Right now.
“Baby gravy,” he growls. “I want to fill you up with it, girl, so damn bad.”
Then his lips are on mine and I forget about the turkey and the green bean casserole. I forget the candied yams and the buttery rolls.
He kisses me and all I want to taste is his mouth on mine.
Russet
Her lips are like pillows of mashed potatoes. Fluffy and warm. I kiss her soft, knowing my girl has been hurt enough by me already, and the last thing she needs right now is for me to go rough.
Her lips part, and her tongue finds mine and I melt like butter against her. I’m back to where we were four years ago. Her soft, supple body pressed against mine while we explore one another down by the river.
We never went all the way.
But now? Now I’m prepared to go to the ends of the earth to win her back.
“What the fuck?” Her dumbass boy toy, or whoever the shit he is, Tommy, flicks on the lights in the hall, shouting at us. “What the hell, Autumn? You keep your knees closed for me but five seconds in and you’ll let this jarhead face-fuck you?”
I lift my eyebrows. What the hell is he thinking, yelling at my girl like this?
“You can’t talk to Autumn that way,” I say, stepping towards him.
“Who the hell do you think you are? Telling me what I can and can’t do?” Tommy yells.
Baby Gravy: A Second Helpings Short Story Page 1
