Page 20 of Found Forever

She snickered at that. It was well known that Fumble the goat was an obnoxious escape artist. Mieka had actually found him a few miles down the road one time.

“But he’s so cute,” she teased.

“So is goat stew.”

They ate and chatted like an old married couple. It was remarkably easy and wonderful. He topped up her wine, cleared her plate, and the man had even baked cookies. Honest to God double-chocolate chip cookies. And they were still hot too.

“You’re like a robot or something, right? Or an alien?” she asked, catching a chocolatey crumb that nearly fell into her lap when she took a bite of her second cookie. “You’re not real.”

A confused look splashed across his face. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re like bloody perfect. You want to get to know me before we shag. You cook. You’re considerate. You actually fucking listen to me when I talk. You ask questions. You gave me the best goddamn fingerbang of my life.”

He snorted.

“And you’re like, chill as fuck. Does anything ruffle your feathers?”

His throat moved on a swallow and he casually sipped his water, then set down the drinking glass. He was choosing his words carefully, something she noticed he did a lot. Unlike her, who spoke almost always before the thought even made its way to her brain. “I’m not sure I have too many feathers left toruffle,” he said softly. “Most of them have been plucked and they just never grew back.”

“What the hell does that mean? You’re a bald bird?”

He snorted again and smiled. “No. It means I just don’t have any fucks left to give. Life is so short. Why not spend the days we have doing good? Doing what we like and making an impact? I’ve done a lot of things in my life that should have gotten me killed. Then, my brother—not Ryker—but a brother in arms, Brendan, took his own life because he couldn’t deal with all the things we saw. All the things we’d been through. His wife Molly lost a husband that day. His daughter Sasha, who was just a baby, lost her father that day. And we all lost a friend.

“After that, I never took a single moment for granted. I never took a single person I met for granted. If there was something I wanted to do, I did it. I didn’t put it off until tomorrow because none of us are guaranteed to have a tomorrow. I cook because I like food. It makes me happy. It makes me happy to cook for others and see them enjoy my food. To enjoy the time and energy I poured into creating something for them. And I listen to you when you speak because I find you interesting and I want to hear what you have to say.”

Holy. Shit.

“And as for not wanting toshagyou until I know you better … yeah, we could die tomorrow having not had sex. But like I said, when I’m with someone, I want it to mean something. I want there to be a connection. I don’t want a meaningless, forgetful fuck. And I sure as hell don’t want one with you.”

Her mouth was completely dry.

Her knickers on the other hand … not so much.

She stared at him in complete awe.

“So, no. I’m not a robot or an alien. I’m just Decker. I’ve seen some shit. I’ve lost people. And I like food. And I like you. I'm a simple guy who is really great at fingerbanging.”

She wasn’t expecting that last bit and burst out laughing.

His crooked and cute smile made her want to lunge across the table and kiss his lips until they were as swollen as her clit currently was.

God, if he’d kept talking, she was probably going to get off from his words alone.

“Now, finish your cookie, Joanna.”

She blinked, swallowed, and did what she was told.

Like a good girl.

Decker’s good girl.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Get increasingly sexually frustrated in the process.

They were on day five of no sex, just talking, kissing and handholding, and even though Joanna enjoyed getting to know Decker, she was nearly at her wits’ end with him too.

“Are you like wanking it every night in order to not go insane?” she finally asked him on Saturday morning as they danced around each other with practiced ease in the kitchen. She always had oatmeal and fruit for breakfast. Meanwhile, he was more of an eggs and bacon guy. He liked his coffee strong and black, and she took her English Breakfast tea with a splash of milk and a teaspoon of honey.

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