On that note, I decided to point it out in my own special way. “Is your food too hot?”
Lifting his head up, he glanced over at me. “No?”
“I see,” I mumbled, looking down at my plate. “Do you need different cutlery, or would you like me to put a cork on the fork?”
“Katy, why the hell would I need a cork on my fork?” he asked, sounding totally confused now.
“So you don’t hurt yourself, honey. Those are sharp edges.”
“You’d have to check with Mom, but I’m pretty certain I’ve never caused myself an injury with a fork,” he replied with forced patience.
“Ok, be careful with that plate now. It’s heavy and if you break it you could hurt yourself,” I pointed out helpfully.
Placing it down on the coffee table, he turned so that he was facing me now. “Do you need a cork on your fork?”
“Nope,” I replied before shoveling in a mouthful of Gloria’s heavenly delights, my eyes on the kid's movie playing on the television.
“Then did you hit your head when I wasn’t looking?”
“Nope.”
“So why don’t we put this bizarre conversation to bed and finish our dinner?” he suggested, and I had to swallow down the laughter that was building inside my chest. I’d only just managed to do that when he went to reach for his plate and let out a little growl. Looking down, I saw my niece sitting on her knees in front of his plate, happily feeding herself from it. “Petal, that’s my plate,” he said softly, calling her by his new nickname for her.
Turning around, she frowned at him and shook her head. “My!”
“No, baby, it’s mine,” he told her and held his hand out. “Can I have it back?”
The glare on her little face reminded me so much of her mother’s when she was little. “No, my!”
Before he could say anything else, she picked up her pink bowl and passed it to him, then turned back to the plate.
I only just made it to the kitchen before I started laughing.
Reaching into the cupboard for his ‘special plate’, I lifted it down and emptied the rest of the Rubbermaid containers that I’d heated the food up in onto it, and then carried it through to him.
Retaking my seat beside him, I lifted up a forkful of food and asked, “Now do you need a cork on your fork?”
The rest of dinner passed silently with only little squeals of excitement from Elodie breaking it. Then, just as I was picking up the plates to take them through to the dishwasher, she walked on her knees to where the big man was sulking, climbed up onto his lap and wrapped her arms around him. “Wuv cawot,” she whispered, unable to say his name and figuring carrot was close enough.
His reaction to her eating off his plate might have seemed like he was pissed, but seeing it in first person, he’d been proud of her for her ingenuity and for eating off an adult plate. There was nothing that either of us did that ever truly pissed him off even if he acted like it, and seeing him wrap his arms around Elodie and hold her tighter to him, I knew that the perfect I’d thought he was, was nowhere near the perfect he actually was.
Saying I’d fallen in love with him was an understatement, and I didn’t need any GYMP to make it happen.
Walking around the back of the couch, I headed toward the kitchen, pausing when I heard him say back, “Cawot loves ‘Lodie, too.”
I’d had a lot of dreams about Jarrod in the months after I’d started working at the garage, fantasies that ranged from tame to downright dirty. Not one of those dreams had even come close to the reality of being part of his life, though. When your dreams pale in comparison to the reality of your man, you know you’ve found the needle in the haystack.Three hours later…
I was face down on the bed, my hands gripping the sheets to stop my body being pushed up the mattress with each thrust.
We’d started with me kneeling at the side of the bed with him on his feet because of his height, but then he’d shifted me further up the mattress and had joined me on his knees. This had also posed a problem because his legs were so much longer than mine, so he’d had to lift the lower half of my body off the bed to do what we were doing now. This meant that with each thrust there was a real danger of me sliding forward, so my grip was fierce on the sheet and I hoped it didn’t ping off the edge of the mattress each time he plunged into me.
“Can you stay quiet?” Jarrod taunted on a hard thrust, and a small groan left me.