Page 48 of Flyboy's Nightingale
I get so lost in mashing the potatoes, cooking the hamburger meat, and getting the corn ready for shepherd's pie that I stop noticing the people coming and going. I place the first two casseroles into the oven and start washing the dishes when the door opens, and this time, my body takes note of the person entering the room. I take my time finishing the dishes, unable to look at the man who has the capability to easily tear me apart and make me feel like I’m less than I am.
I ask myself the one question that I’ve been petrified to ask, can you forgive the man for everything that he’s done?
“Are you going to continue to ignore me or are you going to face me?” Flyboy huskily breathes into my ear.
“Well, that depends. Am I speaking with the man that wants me or the asshat that likes to lash at everyone around him?” I eye him over my shoulder.
“How about a man that’s been reminded that he’s a fucking asshole and has got himself a pretty fucking amazing woman that deserves better.” He kisses the side of my neck as the timer for the first two pans go off.
“Saved by the bell. Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll talk over some things while we eat.” I slide myself from between him and the sink.
“What exactly did you make that smells so fucking good?” he wonders, going to sit at the bar.
“My momma called it shepherd's pie. I now know that it’s the American version of the dish. It tastes good and goes a longway, so when everyone left, I kinda just decided to make it for everyone,” I tell him as I slide the two pans onto the hot pads on the island to protect their integrity before sliding the next two pans into the oven and resetting the timer.
“Well, it smells fucking fantastic. We should get our plates fixed before the others smell the aroma and come in and eat it all.” Flyboy chuckles.
“Tell me where to find plates, silverware, and a couple of glasses,” I instruct as I wander aimlessly around the kitchen, going where he tells me to.
Once I have everything that we need, I fix us both plates and pour a couple of glasses of Coke before taking my seat next to him. Flyboy takes a large mouth full, moaning with pleasure. I smile before take a small bite of my own. The feeling of home and happiness washes over me.
“This is fucking amazing! I could eat this all day, every day, for the rest of my life,” Flyboy says as he sneaks in bites of food between his words.
“Don’t be dramatic. We both know it’s basic.”
“Not everyone wants overly complicated dishes. Sometimes, simplicity is the best thing for a man.” Flyboy smirks before going back to his plate.
We sit in silence until he finishes his first helping and rushes over to get more as several brothers file in and start fixing their plates. Once the timer goes off again, I stand, going through the brothers standing there and grabbing the two pans out from the oven and onto the island. I reach over, sliding two more pans into the oven, then setting another timer before going back to sit next to Flyboy and finishing my plate. When I make it to my seat, I look over and see Flyboy beaming at me.
“You’re fucking amazing, and I’m so fucking proud of you,” Flyboy murmurs before leaning closer and asking, “Are you done eating?”
I nod at him, shocked by his words.
“Let’s go to my room and talk.” Flyboy kisses me on the lips and then the side of my head before grabbing his crutches and standing.
As we leave the room it hits me that it’s at full capacity of brothers. I stop walking, looking around at them stupefied. Flyboy kisses the back of my head and I look over my shoulder to find him smiling down at me. My heart stutters slightly and my cheeks warm at seeing the first true smile from him since the wedding.
“You got this, Sunshine.” He nods toward the door.
I turn walking through the room, smiling in response when a brother tells me how good the food is. I hold tightly to the feelings coursing through my body to help me get through the main room and down the hall to his room. Once we’re in his room, I fall back on the bed with my eyes closed.
“Fuck me! You’re one fucking gorgeous woman and I’m one lucky son of a bitch.” The reverence and honesty in his voice causes need to pulse through me.
I know we need to talk and that the last thing that we should be doing is anything sexual, but I need this. I need to know what it feels like to make the choice to be touched and not have it forced upon me. Sitting up, I pull my shirt over my head before leaning back on my hands and spreading my legs wider.
“Riley, I—” Flyboy clears his throat, seeming lost for words.
Any other day, I’d let the fact that I’m not skin and bones, and that he might not actually be attracted to me, win. Today though, I don’t care. I want this man to the point of insanity.
“Flyboy, I don’t need pretty words. All I need is to be able to choose what I want.” I stand, closing in on him.
As I step into his space and run my hands up his chest, taking his shirt with me, Flyboy leans back onto the bedroom door allowing his crutches to fall to the floor, giving me room tomaneuver and pull his shirt over his head. Once his head is free, Flyboy runs his hand up my back and into my hair, fisting it. I look up into his face, and the need I see burning in his eyes is everything I imagined it would be.
“Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed of this?” His words slide over me like a soft caress.
“No, tell me,” I whisper, kissing his chest and up his neck.
“I’ve been trying to shake the hold you have on me since the first night you walked into the E.R. with your Wonder Woman scrubs. I tried to run my game like I always did, and when it did nothing but cause you to laugh and walk away, I sunk,” he groans, using the hold he has on my hair to guide my mouth to his.
