Alphabet Soup II (Part 7/8)
T-Shirt
He doubts he will ever get used to it, that there will ever be a time when the scene in front of him won’t blow his mind away and leave him speechless.
And he does not want to, either.
She leans against the door frame, her wild curls framing her face, her eyes still haunted by the last traces of sleep, and her smile shining brighter than the early morning glow. Her right foot moves over her left foot, and his eyes travel up her slender, tanned legs, standing bare in front of him, daring him to continue his quest.
She may have an innocent look on his face, but she knows what she is doing. And the smirk on her face tell it all, when his breath catches in his throat as his eyes find the edge of her orange panties, peeking mischievously from under the hem of her t-shirt.
He finally finds the strength to tear his gaze away and make eyes contact but her eyes are closed. She hugs a warm coffee mug and inhales the fumes, with a smile on her face.
He swallows and her eyes snap open. Her whispered “good morning” makes its way to his ear as he watches her swaying towards the bed. She lays the mug on the nightstand next to him. He waits for her to make her way to her side of the bed, but she surprises him by climbing in between his legs. She leans back into his chest, wraps her leg around his, sending a jolt through his body, and pushes her head back slightly against his shoulder, exposing her neck to him and he does not need to be told twice.
The coffee is cold soon enough as he is too busy showing her just how good a morning it really is.
Uncle
It sounded silly, but Jack was really nervous about dinner. His hands were sweating and he was helplessly fumbling with his tie.
Kate giggled at the sight in front of her as she walked into the room.
“Do we really have to go?” he mumbled, trying for the fifth time to get the knot right.
She removed his hands replacing them with hers. She dealt with the tie with ease, and rose on her tiptoes to steal a quick kiss against his lips. “Yes, we do. It’s your sister’s big dinner party! She’s been working restlessly on it to get it perfect,” she said, straightening his jacket and laying her hands on rest on his chest, “what would it look like if her big brother and future sister in law weren’t there?”
He smiled slightly at that, bending down to nibble gently at her exposed neck, “but I would much rather stay here and work on a little niece or nephew for her. I think she’d like that,” he said, smiling against her flushed skin.
Kate playfully pushed him away and started walking out, but not before throwing a mischievous “oh, we will. Later,” over her shoulder to him, with a quick wink.
Jack took a deep breath and stepped out after her. The truth is, he had no problem with the dinner party itself. He always enjoyed getting together with their friends. This time, however, there was a newcomer to the party; a newcomer in whose honor the even was taking place. Jack is nervous because he had not seen this person yet. Jack is nervous because Aaron was the one person left who he still feels as though he had let down, betrayed and disappointed. Jack is nervous to face his nephew, the nephew he left when the little boy was only three years old.
Old habits die hard, and all the possible scenarios have already played out in Jack’s mind; the scenarios of disappointment, anger, betrayal, hatred. He had thought he had been prepared for it, but when the day came, when he woke up this morning, all the anxiety had come back to haunt.
He takes Kate’s hand in his as they walk into the party, and prepare as they are greeted by the friendly faces of their friends and family. Jack’s eyes travel around the place madly, in search of a bond young man, most probably glaring at him.
All the fear and anxiety disappear in a blink of an eye when he hears an excited “Uncle Jack!” from his left and sees his nephew pushing his way through the crowd towards him with an ecstatic smile on his face to wrap him in a loving embrace.
Volvo
She rolls her eyes and he laughs. He convinces her with strategic kisses and calculated touches and soon enough she lets him open the door for her. The beat up Bronco is exactly how she remembers it and she cannot help but question his choice, even now. He mocks her safe, dependable Volvo and she concedes.
The cool breeze blows against her face, her hair tickling her nose. He laughs at the site of her scrunching her freckled nose. She turns to him and her fingers find the back of his head, run through his hair and he sighs.
Her bare feet are on the dashboard, her right hand out the window swaying with the wind, and he stops himself before he warns her about her unbuckled seatbelt.
She sings along to the Dylan playing on the radio and ignores his comments about her pitchiness. She sends her feet higher on the dashboard which makes her dress hike up her legs even higher. He groans. He forgets her off tune singing and has to pull up as she whispers “Why wait any longer for the one you love when he’s standing right in front of you”.
She always did prefer the Bronco’s wider backseat anyway.