Page 61 of Something that Could Last

“I love these soft, pouty lips.” He kisses me gently, emphasizing his words, and then places his hands on my ribs, his thumbs rubbing the undersides of my breasts. “I love every curve and dip.” His hands inch down my sides and settle on my lower back, where two little dimples appear on each side of my spine. “I really, really love this.” He cups my backside with both hands and squeezes, pressing his groin into my belly. “Hmmm, I think I may have found my favorite.”

I’m suddenly lifted into the air and then set back down on an empty section of the counter. His mouth is on mine, his arms crushing me to him, and I feel his length pressed against my center. He devours me, licking and tasting, consuming my thoughts and overwhelming my senses.

A strange gurgling sound begins to register in my distracted mind. Jacob releases me quickly and runs to the stove, pulling a pot off the burner.

“It was boiling over,” he explains.

“Oops.” I hop off the counter as a blush spreads over my cheeks. I turn the burner down and replace the pot. Cooking with Jacob might be a bit of a safety hazard. “We’d better focus on dinner before we burn down the house.”

“Good idea.” He gives me a quick peck and returns to helping me prepare our meal.

An hour later, our plates are full and silence reigns over the kitchen as we dig into the delicious food we prepared together. We work well as a team. Well, as long as we can focus and keep our hands to ourselves.

“This may be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Jacob dips his fried chicken in his mashed potatoes and gravy before devouring it with enthusiasm. “Seriously, I don’t know how you do it. If I had someone to cook like this for me all the time, I’d weigh four hundred pounds.”

“Well, you can’t eat like this every day. My grandma and I cook like this once a week. That’s it. She has some health problems, so we try to eat right most of the time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You’d never know by looking at her.”

“She takes pretty good care of herself, although she likes to sneak and eat sugary snacks when I’m not looking. She knows she’s not allowed to have them because of her diabetes, but she’s got a rebellious streak a mile long. She’ll do something just because you told her not to.” I smile fondly as I think of her.

“I like her even more now,” Jacob confesses before shoving a huge chunk of cornbread in his mouth. I love that he enjoys the food I cooked. I don’t know what it is, but there’s just something about feeding the ones you love.

There’s that word again.

There’s no use fighting it anymore. I love him. And I’m not ashamed of it. I just wish I had the guts to tell him. But if he doesn’t feel the same, it will crush me. I’d rather enjoy what we have now than to know definitively if his feelings for me run as deeply as mine for him.

Once we finish eating, Jacob helps me clean up and put away the leftovers.

“Make sure you take some of this back with you. There’s plenty here.”

“Woman, you’re gonna be the death of me. But I’ll gladly take your home cookin’ any time you want to give it to me.”

He winks at me and I feel heat flood my cheeks as they redden. Why did that sound so naughty?

I make us each a plate of warm cobbler and add a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. We take our bowls to the living room and sit on the old, worn down couch. It may not be the prettiest thing, but it’s very comfy. I flip on the TV as we dig into our desserts. I glance at Jacob when I hear a soft moan coming from my left.

“Holy shit,thisis the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Please tell me you know how to make this.”

I laugh at his ardent appreciation. “Yes, I know how to make it,” I assure him. “I don’t think it ever turns out quite as good as hers, though.”

When we’re done with dessert, I take our dishes to the kitchen and place them in the sink. They can wait until morning. When I return, Jacob motions for me to sit next to him and I curl into his side, resting my head on his shoulder. His big, strong arms and warm muscular chest are so inviting. We talk for a while, his fingers combing through my hair. Before long, the darkness of sleep enfolds me and I slip into oblivion.

Jacob

ABBY’S BREATHING SLOWSand evens out as I run my fingers over her scalp, and I realize she’s fallen asleep. I kiss the top of her head and breathe in her sweet scent. The most expensive perfumes in the world could never compare to how good she smells. She moans and sighs in her sleep and I hold her tighter. When she becomes restless, squirming and wiggling until she’s in my lap, I think she’s going to wake up, but she doesn’t. She curls up into a ball, still asleep, and rests her cheek against my collarbone. Her breathing evens back out and I wrap my arms around her small body.

I can’t believe how much this woman means to me already. I want to tell her, but I don’t want to scare her away. She’s known a lot of pain from those who should have loved and protected her, so she’s understandably reluctant to open up and let anyone in.

My eyes close and I start to drift off, but soon am startled awake by the sound of the front door closing, putting me on high alert until I hear keys hit the counter. I glance over my shoulder as Abby’s grandmother rounds the kitchen table, heading towards the hallway.

She catches sight of me and I smile. “She’s asleep,” I whisper, nodding towards my shoulder where Abby’s head is rested. I certainly don’t want her to think we’re up to no good.

She sighs, her brow knitted with concern. “She works way too hard. And too much. God love her.” She shakes her head. “She must be exhausted. I don’t know how she does it.”

Me either. This girl never stops. “Would it be alright if I go lay her in her bed? I don’t want to wake her.”

She nods her head in agreement. “Her room is the second door on the right.”

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