Page 72 of Sparks Still Fly

The pasta is ready when I hear her padding into the kitchen. She comes up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I feel her leave a kiss on my back before she burrows her face into my T-shirt. “Hello, darling.”

Fuck everything I just said about needing space. I need no space. I need this. Every fucking day.

I turn off the heat and turn around in her arms, bringing my hand to her chin, and tipping her face up to mine. “I really like hearing you call me that.” I lower my lips down to hers, because being able to be this close to Maeve and kiss her is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. Her contented sigh is followed by the loud rumble of my stomach, and we both laugh as we pull our bodies apart.

“Let’s eat?” She phrases it as a question, which is adorable because if it weren’t for the fact that this carbonara has to be eaten fresh, I’d take her back into my bedroom and watch her fall apart for me over and over again.

“Yeah, Maevey. Let's eat.” I pull one of her hands to my lips and kiss her palm. “You mind getting us some drinks while I serve this?” Her eyes light up, and I watch as her freckles move up her cheeks with her smile.

“I don’t mind at all. You want a beer?” She walks to the cupboard, and I watch her tiny frame reach up for a glass.

“Just water is great. Thank you.” Concentrating back on the pasta, my face stretches into a smile. This is such a normal thing for us to do, something so domestic and borderline boring. We’re just having dinner. But it’s not normal or boring. It’s monumental. It’s us finally being an us and getting to do things together. In the same room. Not just me watching her prep her tea through a computer screen, or her listening to me tell her about our morning routines on base.

I shake my head and top our plates with parmesan before realizing she’s not at the table, but at the kitchen island with two glasses of water, napkins and forks.

Setting our plates down, she sticks her nose to the plate, and takes a deep breath in. I chuckle, having seen her do this so many times now with everything she eats. Maeve finds the joy in the smallest things, like smelling her food before she eats it.

She looks up at me, fork in hand, as if asking me if we can dig in. I pick up my fork, but before I take a bite, I watch as she takes hers. She moans, rolling her head back and setting her fork down loudly. Then she takes a drink of water and stands up.

Maeve shocks the shit out of me when she climbs onto my lap and straddles me, then kisses me. Hard. That gets me dropping my fork with a loud clang on the plate because I need both hands to pull her into me. She moans into my mouth, her hands roaming all over my hair, neck, and shoulders.

“Thank you,” she whispers against my lips. As quickly as she got there, she's gone. She hops back up on her stool and takes another forkful of pasta, moaning again. “This is the greatest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

My laugh explodes out of me as I watch her and adjust the erection now begging for attention in my pants. “I get all that just for making you pasta?”

“Not just any pasta, Owen. My favorite pasta. My favorite meal. And it’s perfect.” She moans again, wiggling in her seat.

“Keep making those noises, and I’ll carry you back to bed to remind you what else makes you moan like that.” Her cheeks turn pink as she swallows.

“Don’t you dare. Not until I’ve eaten every last bite of this.” Her tone is serious, but the playfulness in her eyes has me laughing again. “Seriously, O. Wow.” Those are her last words until every last bit of her meal is gone from her plate.

As we’re washing up, my phone rings and I look down to see that it’s one of the social workers calling. Maeve looks up and smiles, nodding for me to take it.

“Hello?” There’s silence, then someone clears their throat.

“Hi, Mr. James?”

“Yes?”

“Oh, hi. It’s Jessica, one of the social workers on Julia’s case” Her voice is familiar now. She has a melodic voice that stands out.

“Hi, Jessica. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Thanks so much for asking.” She clears her throat again before continuing, “It looks like everything is set for Julia to go home with you in a couple of days, but I wanted to make a final call and see if you’d like to visit with her before the court hearing.”

“Yes. Yes, I would like that very much.” My voice is maybe a little louder than it needs to be, which has Maeve spinning to face me with eyebrows raised as she rinses a dish.

Jessica lets out a sigh. “Oh, good. I’m very pleased to hear that. Is tomorrow afternoon all right for you to come see her? Then the court hearing will be the following day, and you’ll be able to take Julia home.”

I swallow a sudden lump in my throat at the thought of Julia being here, and I pace into the next room. “That’s completely fine. I’m ready.” I wait for the words to sour on my tongue like a lie, but they don’t.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m happy you’ll have a chance to start getting to know one another and bond. She’s still so young.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “Please let me know if there’s anything we can do to help.”

“I will, Jessica. Thank you.”

We say our goodbyes, and I stand there for a minute, watching Maeve as she loads the dishwasher with a small smile on her face.

As I walk back into the kitchen, she straightens and faces me. “Did something happen? Is Julia all right?” She reaches out and pulls me to her by my T-shirt and I cage her to the countertop, letting her warmth push away the doubt that's circling me like a school of sharks.

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