Page 25 of Loving Words
I slid back down to the floor, thankful Jack hadn’t moved yet. I hid my face and a snort of laughter in his chest.
Gran set her mug on the counter. “You will be in the same situation one day. Do you want your sister making such a fuss about it?”
“No, ma’am,” Harrison said and hung his head. “Let me know when lunch is ready.” He turned and left the kitchen.
I peeked over Jack’s shoulder and yelled at Harrison, “Fifteen minutes!”
“Now kiss the boy and flip your sandwiches before they burn.” Gran leaned against the counter and nodded at the oven timer. Two minutes remained. I checked them and decided they could be flipped now. I reset the timer for five more minutes.
“Can’t say no to Gran, now can we?” Jack framed my face with his hands and leaned in.
I eagerly met him halfway, hungry for his lips and the feelings they drew from me. His tongue skimmed mine, and I opened greedily for him.
My hands found their way to his chest and then up to clasp behind his neck. The oven timer’s beep filtered through the haze of lust clouding all reason. Jack pulled back, panting as hard as I was. My body had revved back up, and I could feel his head too, by the bulge pushing against my stomach.
“Why don’t you finish lunch?” He stepped back, adjusting himself. “I need to go grab a shower.” He brushed his dick against my thigh as he leaned in and kissed my cheek before turning and heading up to his room.
Gran gave a little whistle as I pulled the pan out. “Whew, now that’s what I call a hot kiss.”
I flipped the sandwiches, smiling when I saw the perfect golden-brown crust on each of them. I pulled the pan out and set it to cool on the counter, then placed a second pan of sandwiches in, set the timer, and wiped my hands.
I turned toward Gran. My face was on fire, so I knew my blush ran deep. “Gran, as much as I appreciate your support and enthusiasm about Jack and me, could you tone it down a bit?” I busied myself with getting spoons and bowls out. “I don’t know what it is yet, and neither does he. Added pressure from family to define it is just stressful.”
She came up and pulled me into a hug. “My darling girl.” She held on until I fully relaxed and squeezed her back. Gran’s hugs had always been able to fix almost anything. “I never intended to embarrass you.” She pulled back and held my hands as she stared into my eyes. “This exploration is good for both of you. Yes, I would love to see it develop into something more. An old woman wants to see her family happy and have more babies crawling around.” She laughed as I rolled my eyes.
“I know, Gran, but it’s only been a few days. He’s going home after the holiday. A long-distance relationship is hard, and I’m not sure I want that.” I squeezed her hands once more and let go.
“Don’t worry about what if. Enjoy each day you are together. Once the holiday is over, then you can face it. Kennedy Lee, you deserve happiness in your life.” Gran patted my cheek. “And a good shagging or two.”
“Gran!”
Her laugh echoed down the hall as she left the kitchen, heading toward her room.
The oven beeped, and I flipped the sandwiches before putting them back in. Five minutes later, I pulled the second pan out. I piled the sandwiches on a plate and set them just past the pot of tomato soup.
“Lunch is ready!” I yelled into the void of the house.
After the special coffees this morning, the two mimosas, all the flirting, and the roller coaster of emotions, my stomach was in knots. I couldn’t eat anything if I wanted to. I dried my hands and headed toward the stairs. Gran emerged from her room at the same time Harrison bounded down the steps, barely missing knocking me down at the bottom.
“Harrison Maxwell, slow down! The food will be there whether you run or walk,” Gran scolded him.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry,” he said as he slowed his steps at the entrance of the kitchen.
I reached up to massage my temple as the thumping beat in time with my pulse. Gran stepped up to me and laid her hand on my arm. “Did I give you one too many splashes of my flask this morning?”
“Maybe. I’ve got a headache coming on, but it’s not just because of the whiskey or the champagne.” I dropped my hand.
“You really should eat something.” Gran rubbed my arm. “Harrison, put a sandwich on a plate and bring it to Kennedy,” she called to my brother.
“She can get her own food,” he said.
“Harrison Maxwell, do as I ask you.” Gran’s stern voice brooked no backtalk.
He stomped over with a grilled cheese on a small plate. “Here,” he said, shoving it at me.
“Thanks, Happy.”
“Dammit, Kennedy,” he grumbled as he walked away.
