"Dean,” disgust filled his tone as he spoke his sibling’s name, “is the only reason I thought that in the first place. You were always so nice to me, so when he told me you didn't really like me, I was crushed," he said earnestly, tracing my breast with the tip of his index finger.
"I've always had a little crush on you." I admitted, then chuckled. "You gave me daisies once when I was sick, you remember? I fussed over those flowers for weeks and even had my mom press a couple for me to keep. I was completely smitten when I realized I'd mentioned it to you before and you'd remembered. It was that one time when Dean was sick and instead of cancelling our fishing trip, you'd volunteered to take his place. I'd told you about how I liked daisies that day and you'd remembered. You’d remembered something as silly as my favorite flower.” Though I felt silly doing so, I smiled wistfully. “I thought it was romantic."
"I remember." I could feel him smile against my skin, his lips quirking up. "I remember when I got them for you, too. I cut my hand open hopping a fence to get to them." Lifting his arm, he held his hand out, a small scar running from between his thumb and index finger, right in the middle.
"My hero," I tittered in a high, squeaky voice, giggling when he scoffed, dropping his arm, and poked me in the ribs.
"Romantic, huh?” he said thoughtfully. “I'll have to keep things like that in mind.”
We started to lapse into comfortable silence, several minutes passing before he spoke again. “I remember the fishing trip, too. You shared your cookies with me and let me tell everyone that the bigger fish you'd caught was mine," he said and then snorted. "It was soo romantic!" he tittered in a high pitched imitation of my voice, putting his hand to his chest as he rolled over onto the bed next to me, batting his lashes in my direction.
Stifling a smile, but barely, I slapped at his chest, harrumphing, but giggled at this silly side to Vince I hadn't been privy to since we were kids. I’d never realized how much I'd missed it, let alone enjoyed it.
And since we're taking a trip down memory lane anyway...
"Do you remember in high school when you asked Peggy Morrey to Jr. Prom and she turned you down, then tried to embarrass you in front of everyone?"
"Yeah," he said reluctantly, nuzzling my breast distractingly as he hardened the little bud to a stiff peak.
"I told Budd Jepson she had a thing for older guys and Shakespeare, so he followed her around for a month trying to quote Macbeth to her."
"Macbeth?" The nuzzling stopped and he choked out a laugh. "Really?” Shaking his head, he shook the bed with silent laughter. “I would have loved to have seen that one." He laughed aloud then, as if it could no longer be contained, jiggling my breasts as his entire frame rumbled with a chuckle.
"It was hilarious," I admitted on a giggle, trying to recall the last time I’d actually laughed like this, let alone—gasp—giggled.
"Why Macbeth, though? Doesn't that seem like an odd choice to woo someone with?" His brow quirked up in inquiry, looking to me, puzzled.
"Eh... I may have helped him out with that one a little," I admitted, gesturing with my fingers, pinching my thumb and index fingers close together to show, smiling when he broke out into a fit of bed shaking laughter again.
"Nothing says 'I love you' like a bunch of murder and evil plotting, right?" I said enthusiastically, chuckling along with him.
As things slowly wound down I rolled to my side, Vince immediately snuggling up behind me, his arms and legs wrapping around me as he kissed the top of my head.
"Good night, Vincent," I said quietly, whispering the words out on a sigh. Closing my eyes as his hand smoothed down the side of my temple in a gentle caress, I started to fall asleep.
"Night, Jinny," Vincent responded, then whispered, almost too low for me to hear but not quite, "Love you, Jingle Bells. Always have. Always will."
˙˜˙˜˙
Parcheesi anyone?
˙˜˙˜˙
"My leg hurts," Dean grumbled as he plowed through another stack of pancakes.
"Want another shot?" I asked, acting like I was going to get up.
"What?! They gave you some?" he squeaked out, looking around frantically for his crutches.
"Relax, gimp. She's just kidding," Vincent chimed in helpfully, smirking at Dean when his older sibling leveled a glare on him.
Miriam moved Dean’s crutches a little closer to him, giving him a quick peck on the head as she went by, making her way to her seat. Playing it up, he grinned over at her amiably.
Can you say mama’s boy, I thought, hiding a smirk.
"Well, Vincent." Mom smiled, glancing at him curiously from down the table. "Did you and Dean sleep alright bunked together? What with Dean's cast and all? I hope it wasn't too much, trying to get comfortable in such tight quarters."
Vincent’s smile was small but polite as he looked up from his plate. Setting his fork next to his napkin, he took his time in answering. "Actually, I crashed on the spare bed in Jinny's room." Something sparked in Vincent’s pretty green gems for eyes as he glanced my way, his gaze meeting mine. "Jinny doesn't mind sharing with me, do you, Jinny?"
Stuffy said this so calmly, with a completely straight face, his expression unreadable but for those eyes, waiting oh so politely for me to answer.
Those eyes said it all, though, as we shared a private look, his gaze heated but teasing.
That stinker, I thought with a mental huff. He's throwing me under the bus! If it wasn't directed at me, I would have praised him on his evil plotting.
"Nope," William muttered bitterly, cutting in, "Jinny doesn't mind sharing things with Vincent or Dean, at all. Do you, Jinny?" Expression pinched, posture stiff, he glowered at me, annoyed.
I didn't miss what he was implying with his crude little assumptions and oh, so snazzy attitude. Pouting much, Geralds?
"Actually," I replied, putting my hand on Vincent's thigh under the table to massage it when he tensed all over, stiffening up like a board, about to cut William in half with a few tersely spat words better than anyone I’d ever known—it was a special talent of his, really—"I reserve that particular job exclusively for Stuffy."
"You do? I mean, you and De- You haven't?" Vincent blurted, his head jerking in my direction. His shocked surprise melting into a pleased, possessive, skin pulling grin, he perked right up, William suddenly forgotten for the moment.
Men. Ugh.
"Nope." I shook my head, winking up at Vince, warmth tickling my stomach when he clasped my hand in his on his thigh, his free hand snatching up his coffee. A huge smile fought to break out across his face but he valiantly tried to hide it over the rim of his cup.
Dean sighed disgustedly, aiming it in our general direction, mumbling under his breath, "Sooo don't want to hear any of this right now. Trying to eat here... Going to have nightmares for weeks. Ugh! Indigestion, here I come..."
"You look downright jovial this morning, Mistletoe, did you do anything yesterday, or last night, perhaps, that might’ve, oh... I dunno, helped you ring in the holidays? You know, jingle a few bells? Get yourself deep inside any Christmas cheer?" William snickered and sneered.
Dean reached over to grab his crutch, picking it up and whacking William in the head with it, acting fast when Vincent went to get up and pummel the sneering butt wipe.
My hand was tightly clamped on Vincent’s thigh, trying to anchor him in place when he would have jumped up.
Thank you, Dean, I thanked him quietly, for that bit of quick thinking.
"Oh, so sorry, scrooge. I mean William. Didn't see ya there. Why don't you go take a nice cold romp in the snow and cool yourself off? I'd hate to see something happen to you for upsetting the wrong bit of cheer. Hmmm. I happen to be very fond of a certain Christmas ditty and I'd hate to see you butchered, I mean, hear you butcher it with your crappy little attitude," Dean’s deep voice rumbled out fiercely, glowering at William menacingly.
Jaw clenching, slapping his napkin to his plate, William got up and would’ve stomp
ed down the hall but paused, turning at the last minute. "Excuse me, I'm tired,” he muttered stiffly. “It was hard enough trying to sleep on that rock of a couch, but add to that all the noise those two were making," expression pinching like he’d been sucking in lungfuls at the trashcan under the sink, he gestured between Vincent and me, "and I'm surprised I'm still able to stand here, let along talk, at all."
"What noise?" Miriam asked interestedly, Arnold choking on his toast as he looked to his wife incredulously.
"Sweetheart..." Arnold began.
"I was playing hide the salami with Jingle Bells," Vincent admitted seriously to his mother, my jaw dropping as I jerked in my seat like I’d just had my ass good and pinched, and gaped at him.
"Stuffy!" I squeaked out, my huge blue eyes as wide as saucers as they tried to bug out of my head.
"Oh! Really, Jinny! You have Vinny saying it now, too?!” Mom exclaimed. The woman was appalled. Just damned, full on appalled. “Is there no end to how far you'll go to pull one over on me?!"
"B-b-but... but..." I spluttered, beet faced as she shook her finger at me, shaking her head, her free hand picking up her cup and plate. "Like I would be dumb enough to buy that bit of fluff!" She huffed, making to stand. Then, softer, like she needed to tone it down for Vincent or something, she said gently, in a conciliatory tone, "Nice try though, Vinny, honey. You really had me going there for a second!" Her sympathetic look was all I needed to know the shock on her face when she found out the truth of the matter would totally be worth it. Vincent, need coddling? Hah!
Dad feigned complete and total ignorance, humming under his breath to try and drown us out, his nose buried in his book, his face mostly hidden, giving it his best at trying to act oblivious, despite the red tint to his ears and constant throat clearing.
"Hide the salami!" Mom tittered. "Really!"
"What's Hide the Salami?" Poor, clueless though sweet as can be, Miriam asked, patting Arnold on the back when his coughing fit suddenly renewed. "Is it a new game?"
Groaning, I pushed my plate forward, burying my face in my hands, and thumped my pounding head on the table, waiting for the ground to swallow me up whole.
Dean laughed so hard he fell out of his chair, cackling like a madman, and I was too mortified to help the stupid bastard up from the floor, grimacing as he boomed with laughter, howling with glee and alternately clutching his leg cast.
"I'm going to get you for this, Stuffy," I promised my lover quietly, ignoring his chuckle of self-satisfaction at the madness he'd helped instigate.
Vincent leaned in then, whispering into my ear in great detail all the naughty plans he has in store for me later. His deep voice low and enticing, his hand sliding deliciously over my lower back to skim my spine, then trail temptingly close to my derriere, I might have giggled, grinning into my hands at his in-depth description, my body shivering in anticipation of our next prospective romp. Might’ve. Maybe. Quite possibly... But I'll never tell.
˙˜˙˜˙
Timber!
˙˜˙˜˙
Eyes darting around cautiously, I pressed the button on my walkie-talkie, crouched, hunkering down in my hiding place. "Captain Wienie, do you read me?" I asked quietly, angling the camera on the tripod until it was just right. "Can you see anything? Is it angled right?"
"Copy that, Mistress Big Butt, hear you loud and clear. Picture’s crystal clear from in here. Oh! Target is in sight! I repeat, target is in sight! Man your battle stations!" he chirped from the other end.
Peeking out from my hiding spot, I spotted a familiar mop of dark hair, a frown marring his face, his eyes scanning the backyard for any sign of his designated prey. "Target locked," I whispered, picking up some ammunition, testing the weight of it in my hand as I awaited the signal.
"Ready, Mistress?" Dean’s voice crackled across my walkie.
"Ready, Captain," I replied eagerly. My eyes alight with excitement, I got into position.
"Aim... don't you go getting gun shy on me, rookie," he warned, earning an eye roll from me. "Aaaannnndd fire!"
Without hesitation, I popped up and let my arm fly, pelting Vince in the back of the head, the white, compacted snow splattering all over the back of his noggin as I hooted triumphantly.
"A direct hit!" I crowed, loading my arms up with extra ammunition, just in case, taking aim and firing at my target.
Vince ducked, garbling out a shout, and ran behind a tree, his body now properly shielded from my revenge for the salami fiasco.
"Truce?" Vincent shouted, waving a white handkerchief out from the safety of the tree, his arm extended out into the open.
"What say you, Captain?" I inquired of my team leader, relaying the enemy's message.
"Never!" Dean bellowed into his walkie, and I seconded his motion, tossing a well-aimed snow ball at the hand holding out the hanky in answer.
"Never!" I shouted, so it had been said. "Surrender, evil scum, and we just might be lenient!"
"Are you sure you want to do that, Jinny?" Vince called sweetly from his shielded position. "You might want to consider surrendering to me," he offered, like he was doing me a favor, adding ominously, "before it's too late."
"What is he saying?" Dean crackled across our walkies. "Is he saying something gross? Cuz if so, blech, forget I asked." Coughing, croaking like he was choking, he started making gagging noises, keeping it up until I giggled at him. "Really, people! Can't even play a decent game of war without the big L getting thrown in there somewhere. Gah! I'm still recovering from Stuffy's little announcement at breakfast," the large man whined.
"You didn't seem too upset when you downed two cinnamon rolls and a mug of cocoa about an hour ago," I muttered sarcastically.
"I was hungry, not dying, woman! What kind of man do you take me for?" he grumbled, exasperated. "Hey, I wonder what's for lunch. You think its sandwiches? Because if there's any salami in it, I don't know if I could choke it down," he worried, then made shuddering sounds from across our connection.
"Captain," I snapped sharply into my walkie.
"Yes, Mistress?" he asked curiously.
"Shut to the up," I grunted out succinctly.
"Roger!" Dean said jovially, then laughed. "Bogey! I repeat! Bogey!” he started to shout suddenly. “We are under attack! Retreat! Enemy has breached perimeter! I repeat, enemy has breached the perimeter!" Dean started to make siren noises after that, but I was already moving.
A streak of black shot at me and I squealed, diving, sliding through a mound of snow, rolling as I landed, trying to scramble to safety as Vincent, time and again, narrowly missed me.
Dean was still shouting out directions and enemy whereabouts, followed by horrendous screeching noises, while I squeaked, squealed, and ducked out of Vince's arms again, streaking across the backyard, trying to find some way to get away before he caught me.
Thinking quick, mind racing, I remembered the wood shed had a lock on it and changed directions, making a bee line for the little storage structure now, instead.
A large mass pounced on me not two seconds later, covering my back as I was tackled to the ground and carefully in place.
"Hello, baby? Miss me?" he purred into my ear as he adjusted himself over me, nipping at my ear. "Or should I call you... Mistress?" he murmured seductively.
Shoulders shaking, nose crinkling, I burst out laughing, toppling to the ground, flattening myself out as I gave in to my guffawing fit. Rolling over in the cage of limbs he’d made, my fellow enemy intent to hold me hostage beneath him, I stared up at my would-be captor.
"Oh my," I tittered flirtatiously, feigning distress, batting my lashes at him, pressing the flat of my hand to my forehead. "What-ever are you going to do with me, oh pirate lord?"
It was Vincent's turn to burst out laughing, his smile big and genuine as his eyes danced with mirth. "Pirate lord, Mistress?" Eyes crinkling, he smiled so wide, he chuckled. "Should I have brought an eye patch?"
"No." Blowing out a breath, I sighed and ran a h
and through his thick, black locks, loving the feel of his hair and the way he leaned in to my caress. "No,” I continued, “when I dreamt of you as a pirate lord, the only thing you had on were brown breeches and black boots." Fiddling with his jacket, I ran my hand down the front seam, then the side, playing with the button on his pocket as his smile grew impossibly brighter.
Bending lower, until only inches separated us, Vincent leaned down to kiss me, shifting a little as he did so, inadvertently moving the walkie on my hip. In doing so, we were treated with the following: "Ack! You two are a couple of sick puppies, you know that?!" Dean berated us from the other line. "Not only can I see everything you two are doing," he groaned out pathetically, "but I can also hear everything, too! Thank you very much. I could have done without your messed up Captain Hook fantasies, missy!"
Reaching at my waist, I picked up my walkie and hit the talk button. "Who said anything about him wearing a hook? He'll definitely need both hands for what I had in mind for-Hey! What gives?! Stuffy! Give it back!" A growl in my voice, I hooted and hollered as Vincent snagged my walkie up, pinning me down with his free hand.
"Hello, this is Pirate Lord Lovelace," Vincent intoned darkly, which set me off, to the point I was giggling hysterically.
"Lovelace?" I chortled, grinning up at him like a loon.
"Yes. Lovelace." Stuffy gave a sharp nod, determined to play the part, keeping his hand on the button to talk. "I have Mistress Big Bottom here…"
"Butt," I added helpfully, "Mistress Big Butt."
"No. No," he tsk-ed with a fake British accent, "butt is much too vulgar, to... I can’t say it’s the proper word. It doesn’t do the body part in question justice, don't you think? Bottom is much more fitting for such a... delicate flower, such as yourself."
As I squinted up at him and he adjusted himself on top of me, careful as he hopped up, looming over me, and held a hand out to help me up.
Jingle Belled and Mistletoed Page 8
