Chapter Twenty-Four
Milo
After our discussion in the town hall, Rowan submitted his resignation and used his leftover vacation time to not return to the office.
Apparently, he hadn’t been taking days off for so long, they amounted to two months.
The enormous decision didn’t weigh him down; rather, it gave him wings.
He committed himself to organizing the bake-off and the rest of our lives.
But first, the event.
I was at the cafe for the following days, but had asked Rowan to update me on the progress, and every text message and picture filled me with joy.
The dinner table at my house held permits and fliers for the bake-off on one end, and on the other, Rowan’s laptop next to a folder with plans for his and Troy’s business. Every morning, waking up in my bed, he hugged me in a full-body way that enveloped me and let me feel his love seeping into me.
“I can’t believe you’re mine.” Rowan nuzzled the delicate spot behind my ear. “And I’m yours.”
“We always belonged together, but it took us both some time to realize that.” I wiggled my butt flush against his body, awakening the beast between his legs.
“Do you think that we’re fated mates?”
“Yes.” I replied so quickly, I surprised myself.
I felt Rowan’s grin against my nape. “I believe that too.” He caressed my abdomen and up my chest until he reached my nipple piercings. With a low growl, he nibbled my shoulder and flicked both my buds.
“What are you doing? The bake-off is today.”
“We have time.” He rolled his hips and slid his hand to my morning wood.
“Not that much. So you better start getting me ready for your cock.”
“Bossy little coffee bean.” Rowan reached for the lube from the nightstand and had a slick hand between my ass cheeks in a heartbeat.
I relaxed into his touch, eager to have him fill me already.
Rowan’s skilled fingers prodded my hole and slipped in. He massaged me from the inside, kindling the fire within me.
“Enough. I’m ready.” I swatted his hand away and arched to him, remaining on my side.
He’d check in with me all the time, but by now, he knew I wanted him in every way we could have each other.
Positioning himself, Rowan teased my pucker with his dick, then pushed in.
I gasped and reached behind to claw at his ass cheek to get more of his cock in.
He fucked into me slowly until he was fully in, stretching me in the best way. Staying still, he gave me time to adjust to his size. But I was ready, which I communicated with a wiggle and a whine.
Rowan caressed the thigh of my bent leg, then gripped my knee for leverage to push himself as deep as he could go.
We were one.
He kissed my shoulder blade and began to move.
With every shallow thrust, the ridges on the underside of his cock-zilla teased my rim, threatening to undo me quickly. Good. We had little time.
“Fuck me, Rowan.” Laying on the side, I reached behind me to grip his hair and twisted his ginger waves between my fingers, urging him. “Fuck me like a monster.”
Rowan growled and drove into me over and over.
Our bodies slapped together, composing a filthy soundtrack to our lovemaking. I let go of Rowan’s hair and grabbed my cock, stroking it with quick moves.
“Ah, Rowan! Come with me!”
He did.
When I shot my load onto the bed, his dick pulsed inside me. In my mind’s eye, I imagined how I squeezed his cock, milking him, and how his cum shot deep within me.
“You filthy little beast,” Rowan mumbled against my shoulder.
I turned in his arms, letting go of his dick that flopped out of me with a squelch. “Me? I’m an angel.”
“You look like one.” He kissed my clavicle. “And you love like one.” He flicked his tongue over my nipple. “But you fuck like a demon.”
“I have many faces and moods.” Including low ones…
“And I love every single one of them.” He nuzzled my navel, smeared with my cum. “And always will.”
I wriggled lower to reach his lips and kiss him. He was mine, and I was never letting him go.
Panting, I broke away. “Shower. We need to go.”
We arrived at the town community center before everyone else and checked if all the equipment brought the day before was in the right place. The main hall had the tables ready, covered with baby blue cloths with the Cryptid Cafe logo in the middle and smaller logos from our local sponsors.
The extensive kitchen in the adjoining space had been used for the town’s cooking shows and competitions before. One wall had ovens lined along it, and the middle had a long row of marble countertops with bowls, mixers, and pans ready.
Rowan’s phone vibrated, and he left the room to greet the small business owners whose names graced the banner. They donated half of the ingredients needed, and Rowan paid for the rest. He’d told me it was an investment in his future.
Students from my university arrived next. They volunteered their time to oversee the baking process in exchange for getting work experience hours for their chef course. All of them would have a meet and greet with the local businesses that hired students and graduates.
A lot of money went into organizing the event, but the heart of the community shone the most when the bus from Happy Life Senior Home arrived.
The elderly, with Ethel at the lead, walked into the cooking area like engineers on a mission to save the world.
In photoshoot-ready attire, seniors of all genders and species approached their tables and put on their baby-blue aprons.
Soon, the chatting quieted, and whirring and kneading commenced. Ovens worked overtime, and the camera crew from the local news station tiptoed around to catch the best angles of footage.
We stood to the side to watch but not obstruct. I roamed the room with my gaze and gasped. “Rowan.” I swatted his forearm. “Raina is here.”
The grin that spread across his face told me he’d been expecting her. “They’re here to support you.”
“They?”
Rowan’s sister approached us, and at her heels walked Riley, Ruben, and Rowan’s parents.
Nina, Rowan’s mom, glided to me like a nymph in a delicate white dress, her waist-length ginger hair flowing behind her. “Thank you, Milo.”
“Rowan did all this.” I indicated the room.
She took both my hands in hers and offered me a soft smile. “He did it for you because you opened his eyes to what is important in life.”
I swallowed. “What is that?”
“Love.” She squeezed my fingers. “I’ve never seen my baby boy this happy. He gave us hope when he brought you with him to Raina’s wedding and looked at you with hearts in his eyes all weekend. You unearthed the best in him in a few weeks.” She opened her arms.
I stepped into the hug, and the welcoming gesture felt like a clear wind wrapping around us. Tears pricked my eyes, but I held them back.
Nina let me go and took her husband’s hand.
Bob, Rowan’s dad, was a broad-shouldered man in a beige shirt, thick glasses, and an even thicker red beard.
“We’ve heard good things about your cafe, but it has to be a truly special place for so many people to show up to support it.
” He clapped me on the shoulder, grinned, and pulled me into a hug.
“Your parents would be very proud of you. We’re proud of you. ”
A lump formed in my throat. “Thank you. For your kind words and for driving all this way. This means a lot to me.” I was holding onto my composure by a thread, so I grabbed Rowan’s hand for support.
“Yeah, but is she single?” I turned to where Riley’s voice came from. I followed her line of sight to where Sophia stood with her green hair in a bun on top of her head, her arms crossed.
“Very,” Ethel told her. “And she’s a good one, so you better hurry.”
Oh, Ethel, you pot-stirrer.
My parents set an impossible example of a couple for me to follow, then Anabelle and Ethel showed me that love can stay strong for decades. I wish the three of them could be here.
Rowan’s family had made time to support us, and as much as I loved my parents, I had to look into the future too and take care of those who were still here.
I’d been vibrating with excitement since morning and the glass full of joy spilled over. I burst into tears and buried my head in Rowan’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Rowan whispered.
“I’m just so happy it’s hard to keep it in.” A bustling Ethel, all the Rangecrofts, a room full of excited elders baking to their hearts’ content.
“Let it out.” He caressed my back, and as if through a cosmic connection, I calmed down, keeping the joy without the overwhelm.
When the goodies were cooling off, we locked the room for a two-hour lunch break, then helped set up the tables in the main hall with prices and tasting samples.
The competition proper was a whirlwind of not only people from the town coming over, but from farther away. The parking lot outside was full, and cars stood parked along the streets in all directions. Raina’s ideas for the social media campaign must have worked.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” I plopped onto a chair in the far corner of the room, behind the tables, and dragged Rowan down with me.
The day was nearing its end, with the winners of the competition announced after a public vote that Rowan had set up on a website to get the count right away.
All the seniors were winners in my book.
Not only did they deliver fantastic creations, but their happiness was palpable throughout the day.
And that was the best outcome of the event.
Great-Grand-Parent Bake-Off was a roaring success.