Chapter 12 #2
“Hey, beautiful. Hope I’m not waking you up.”
Her chuckle comes through the phone line as she replies, “I just sent you a text less than thirty seconds ago.”
Grinning from ear to ear, I take a seat on a stump near the firepit.
I stare at the glow of the flames as they dance across the dark sky, grateful to be close enough to feel the heat, since I’m not wearing a coat.
“I know, but maybe you’re the type of person who falls asleep the moment her head hits the pillow,” I reason.
“Oh, I assure you, I am not that person. As tired as I am at the end of the day, sometimes it’s hard to fall asleep early, especially if the sun is still out in the summer. I like to read to help me fall asleep, but sometimes that can have the opposite effect,” she says with a giggle.
“I like quiet. Just me and my fan.”
Her gasp echoes through the device in my hand. “A fan? Say it isn’t so, Burkey Turkey.”
“Oh, it’s so, Easy-Bake. A fan is a requirement. I even have a small portable one I travel with.”
She snorts. “Of course you do.”
“And let me guess, you’re always cold and have ten blankets on your bed.” I’m totally picturing her lying in bed right now—naked, because it’s my fantasy—and burrowed in the middle of a mountain of blankets.
“Not quite ten, but I do have two. My favorite Christmas quilt is there, but I also have a really soft fleece blanket I snuggle with, because there’s nothing worse than cold sheets.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have those flannel ones,” I say, kicking my feet out in front of me and watching the fire.
“Oh, I do. Lots of them. The ones I have on now are polar bears playing on ice, but sometimes I’m just cold.”
“Hmm, so you’re saying you need something—or someone—to help keep you warm,” I reply, my voice dropping low with the innuendo.
She doesn’t reply right away, and I start to worry I took it too far, but then she adds, “I do get awfully cold in bed alone. It would be convenient to have something or someone to keep me warm.”
I’m about to volunteer for the job, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t need me to spell it out for her. She knows I’m interested, or at least I think she does. The last thing I want is her picturing someone else warming her bed.
“Burk?” she asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“It’s you I see keeping me warm in bed.”
A groan slides from my lips and my cock gets hard.
When I close my eyes, I picture it perfectly, her naked body lying in the middle of her bed, wrapped in that damn Christmas quilt, and now, it’s all I can think of.
It consumes me, like the fire dancing in the pit before me. They lick my skin and devour me whole.
“Noted, Joy,” I whisper in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like mine.
“So…Saturday night, right?”
“Yes, Saturday night,” I reply, wishing the week away so we can get to our date.
She yawns through the phone, and I know I should let her get to sleep. “I hope today went well for you,” she murmurs.
“It did. I had a good time getting to know him again.”
“I was right, huh?”
I chuckle and smile as I reply, “Yeah, Easy-Bake, you were right.”
“I’m always right.”
Snorting, I retort, “I don’t know about that. I recall a certain someone insisting the math test wasn’t on the Monday after that zoo field trip, only to find out it was. And do you remember my grade, Joy?”
“Not my fault,” she defends.
“Lies. You said it was Tuesday, and in fact, it was not.”
“Well, maybe you should have taken your own notes in your assignment book instead of expecting me to do it.”
I gasp. “You volunteered! You had that fancy little Trapper Keeper thingy with the stupid cuddly bear and puppy dog on it and insisted it was the best assignment book in the world.”
“Oh, it was,” she insists. “It was so cool, in fact, those fancy things are making a comeback. I almost bought one the other day.”
I bark out a laugh. “For assignment keeping?”
“Yes.”
Chuckling, I lean back on the stump and try to get comfortable. “I’d buy you a thousand.”
“Well, I don’t need a thousand, silly. Only one, but it must have the cuddly bear and puppy on it.”
I make a mental note to look for the Trapper Keeper she’s referring to next time I go to the big box store. When she yawns a second time, I know I need to let her go. “I enjoy reminiscing with you.”
“I enjoy it too.” She’s silent for several seconds before adding, “I really have missed you, Burk.”
“I’ve missed you too, Joy. Sleep well.”
“You too,” she replies, her voice soft, her grin evident. “Night.”
“Good night,” I reply, almost letting a sweetheart slip past my lips. The term of endearment feels natural to want to say, but I stop it before the word is out there. Instead, I listen as she disconnects our call and whisper gently into the night air. “Sweetheart.”
As I watch the flames dance, my mind starts to spin with ideas. There are dozens of things I could make for Joy, but only one keeps coming back to the forefront of my mind. I pull out my phone and do a quick search for styles and know I’ll jot some design ideas down later on when I get inside.
For now, I’m content to just sit here, watch the fire, and think about the woman who seems to be consuming my every thought, day and night.
She’s quickly becoming an obsession.
A beautiful reminder of the life I once had and the one I want moving forward.
Problem is, those two worlds don’t meet in the middle.