Fantasyland: Midnight Soul Part 67

"Our first night of normal?" I inquired.

"Life can't be all drama and adventure, Frannie," he replied. "Travel between worlds. Trips on galleons. Dinners with a queen. For us, it's gonna be this. Your s.h.i.t in my medicine cabinet, your perfume on my bathroom counter, dinner in the oven, a gla.s.s of wine waiting for you in the kitchen when you're done putzing around."

"You've poured me a gla.s.s of wine?" I asked, for some reason thinking this was the height of thoughtfulness.

"Yeah, sweetheart. I know how you like to unwind."

He did. I always had a gla.s.s of wine prior to dinner as well as during it.

He looked to the empty bags on the counter and back to me.

"You need any help?"

I shook my head. "No, darling. And I'm almost finished."

He lifted a hand in a casual gesture and dropped it. "Take your time. Made shepherd's pie. It needs to bake, but even when it's done it can rest until you're ready."

I smiled at him. "Thank you."

He nodded, his gaze sweeping me from head to foot and back again before his beautiful lips formed a tender smile and he moved to leave.

"Noc?" I called.

He stopped and looked into my eyes.

"This new normal is lovely," I told him. "And it being what our normal shall be, I look forward to much more of it. And you know I always enjoy spending time with you." I felt my face soften and continued, "Especially when we have time alone. However, I do feel I should look after Josette and not leave her in her own company quite so much. I know she's content with giving us time," I hastened to add. "But until she finds her footing in this world, is able to get out, do more for herself, meet other people she can spend time with, we're all she has, especially with Valentine absenting herself. I-"

He lifted a hand again, this time higher. "Say no more, baby, I hear you. I know she's bein' cool for us. But you're right. We gotta see to her. I'll take you both to Bourbon Street tomorrow night. Have fun, get you hammered on hurricanes, have more fun. Sound good to you?"

I knew his use of "hammered" was not what it seemed so I nodded.

"Is that all?" he asked.

It was not all.

I wanted to tell him that his world was advanced. The telephones. The televisions. The cars. What we'd been introduced to that day: escalators. And so much more. All of it was impressive. There was so much of it, it was astonishing. There was so much more to learn, myriad amounts, and the idea of that was exciting, as each new discovery had been. There was almost nothing similar between our worlds and he'd been right, because of that, this was the grandest adventure we could take.

Even so, from what I could tell, regardless of the delicious food, the conveniences, the wonders of manicures and pedicures and the existence of Nordstrom shoe department, I preferred my world. The simplicity of it. The quiet of it. The clean of it in look and smell. The unmolested beauty of the landscape you could see all around, even in the cities, something you couldn't see here no matter how far you looked, unless you were close to the water and even then it was often cluttered with boats and bridges.

That said, there was nowhere on this earth, or my own, I'd prefer to be but standing in his bathroom with Noc but feet away.

"Babe?" he prompted.

I shook my head and did it shaking myself out of my thoughts.

"Yes, darling, that's all. I'll join you shortly."

He nodded, tipping his lips up slightly, and he turned from the door.

I watched him disappear and took a long breath.

I let it go, turned back to the empty bags and began folding them away.

I sat astride Noc, my torso up, my eyes on my fingers, which were trailing lazily through the dark hair scattered to perfection on his chest. I then trailed them down, my thumbs dipping into the ridges at his stomach, tracing each box, taking their time. And again up, my fingers worshipfully brushing along the grooves of his ribs.

My touch was light, not meant to be stimulating, we'd both found our pleasure (for my part, Noc had guided me there twice).

No.

I had a sated Noc on my hands, our first night of normal coming to an end, and I found myself in the position of being able to enjoy simply touching him, learning him, stroking him, giving to him.

I drew an idle line over his pectoral and shoulder, running the tip of my middle finger down the outside of his arm, murmuring, "You're quite talented in the kitchen."

And he was. His shepherd's pie was simple fare, but it was also rich and flavorful.

"Give you and Josette some lessons," he said and my gaze darted to his. "We can all cook together. And when it's just us here, you and me can do it."

"Cook together?" I asked.

He held my gaze and repeated after me, but not in a query. "Cook together."

"Mm," I mumbled noncommittally.

There was silence as I averted my attention (and hopefully his) to drawing my other finger from the inside of his elbow, up his biceps, over his shoulder and down, where I flattened it over the bulge of his pectoral.

A pectoral that was slightly shaking.

I again looked to his eyes.

They were laughing.

"You have no intention of learning to cook, do you?" he asked.

"Erm," I hedged.

"Babe, people cook here."

"I had guessed that with the kitchens being an integral part of the home, open, right in the living s.p.a.ce. Even Valentine's home has an enormous s.p.a.ce off the kitchen with sofas and lounges, which makes the area appear communal."

"That's because the kitchen is the heart of the house."

It was not.

The parlor was.

Everyone knew that.

Though, apparently not in this world.

"Interesting," I mumbled, and didn't even try to hide I thought it was not.

His pectoral shook under my hand again.

I wished to roll my eyes but I didn't.

"Frannie, we're both stinkin' rich, you way more than me, which means you could probably hire a cook. But you shouldn't because cooking is fun."

I could not imagine this was anywhere near the truth therefore I made no reply.

However, I did put it on the list in my head of things to see to, to discuss hiring a cook with Valentine, once I'd found a home, of course.

"Right, I'll be the one who cooks," Noc declared and my attention refocused on his face. "Just want you sittin' there with me, drinkin' wine and doin' whatever when I do it because I'm thinkin' from your att.i.tude it'll also be me cleaning up. That means, to earn your meal, you gotta keep me company."

At his behest, after dinner, we'd left the dishes in the sink.

It hadn't even occurred to me he'd eventually have to tidy them and it definitely hadn't occurred to me he might wish me to a.s.sist.

I added a housekeeper to my list of new acquisitions.

"You can take the girl outta the House but you can't take the House outta the girl," he muttered, smiling broadly while watching me closely. "Everyone's blood is red. Your blood is the red of the Drakkars. If it wasn't, it'd be blue."

My brows drew together. "Blue blood?"

"Royals, n.o.bles, back in the day, way back in the day," he began, "didn't get out much. Common folk, they were in the sun. Worked there. Walked where they had to go because they didn't have carriages or sometimes even horses. Couldn't avoid it. The whiter the skin, the more n.o.ble someone would seem. Their veins were visible, looked blue, easy to see through that pasty-white skin. Blue bloods."

"So this is a slang word for your aristocracy," I surmised.

"Yup," he affirmed.

"I much like being in the sun. My skin becomes an attractive shade when I am," I shared.

His pectoral started shaking again. "Although I look forward to the day I'm introduced to you in a bikini, I bet you've never worked in it."

"Of course not," I huffed, for I had not worked a day in my life and did not intend to.

Practicing the craft didn't count. That was simply who I was and when I began to earn alongside Valentine, I would accept the money, of course. Money was money and the more of it you had, the better everything was. But they'd be paying me, essentially, for being me and doing what came naturally, something I had no issue with.

His smile remained fixed even as his lips ordered, "f.u.c.kin' kiss me, Lady Franka."

This I could gladly do.

And I set about doing just that, sweeping both hands up his chest and bending over him.

Resting my b.r.e.a.s.t.s to his chest, he circled me with an arm low at my back, his other hand drawing languid patterns on the skin of my outer thigh, and I kissed him.

It was as lazy as our mood, slow and deep.

And it was delicious.

When I lifted my head I saw a contentedness in his eyes, the tranquil lines in his face, both making him more handsome than ever, which was quite a feat.

His expression settled in my soul as I traced his collarbone and shared softly, "You often tell me of my beauty, but I wonder, do you know the greatness of yours?"

"No one has run screaming when I walked into a room," he joked.

I pressed closer, running a light caress along the cords at the side of his neck, smiling at his jest. "This, undoubtedly, is true. Though it minimalizes the sheer perfection that is you."

His eyes sparked, his hand at my thigh gripped and his arm at my back slanted up so he could tangle his fingers in my hair, all this as he growled, "Frannie."

"It's true," I stated. "It makes me feel most fortunate."

The intensity ebbed as his lips quirked. "And why are you fortunate, babe?"

"You chose me."

"You chose me," he returned.

"Yes, but you're perfect and I am not."

He shook his head on the pillow. "I'm not perfect, Frannie."

"Yes, you can be vexing, but mostly, you're perfect, and physically, and this is always in the eye of the beholder so you cannot argue it, my dearest, so don't try, you're most definitely perfect."

For a moment he continued to hold me as he had.

But then suddenly, I felt him still under me.

"Noc?" I called.

"You're also perfect, you know," he whispered, a curious tone to his voice making my belly pitch.

"As you are the beholder, I can't argue that either," I replied in a manner that shared openly I couldn't argue it, but I also didn't agree.

"You're perfect, Franka," he declared, firmness now in his voice that was almost scolding.

I bent to him, touched my mouth to his and moved a hint away before I whispered, "Thank you, my love."

"Do not think you can get away with that s.h.i.t."

I blinked at his words, the abrupt and unexpected change in his mood and lifted my head further.

Noc rolled so I was no longer atop him but he was atop me.

He didn't allow me to become accustomed to our new positions before he asked, "This part of that midnight soul garbage you're determined not to let go?"

Oh b.a.l.l.s.