23. Esme

23

ESME

P ulling the pie out of the oven, I'm proud of myself. The kitchen smells of baked cherries, and first glance at my creation, I can see that the crust is just right with a golden sheen. Later, I'll add on some ice cream, and this will be complete.

Waking up at eleven in the morning, I felt refreshed, or rather I refuse to spend another day in bed at the mercy of a virus that's been taking me down for the count. I'm on the mend enough, and baking a pie feels fitting considering where my mind has been.

I saw Keats's bags at the bottom of the stairs, and to be honest, the overbearing sense that he was near seeped through my body when I woke. It's the faint aroma of his cologne and the air feeling less chilly. He must have had to run to the office and didn't want to wake me. Or even headed to the gym which is why I haven't bothered texting. He's back a day early, and me being knocked out in bed probably already ruined his surprise.

Setting the dish on the wire rack, I shuffle my hands out of the oven mitts and graze my finger on the top of the pie to check the crust. Or rather boost my confidence of my talented hobby.

Underneath keeping myself busy lies the true meaning for baking. I want to do something for Keats. The time away from one another has been enlightening for me. My thoughts began to line up, and the way I missed him even for a few days has only proven that I would miss him in the future, too.

A pie is a perfect symbol of our new beginning. He is more than worthy of one of my pies.

The sound of the door opening down the hall causes my subtle smile to beam. Grabbing the nearby kitchen towel, I squish it around the pie dish to lift up and display my gift. Turning around as Keats enters, my smile turns to a frown.

He slowly saunters to the kitchen island, keeping the counter as a barrier between us. Fear runs through me, tightening my heart. Keats appears serious, and it concerns me. There are no open arms or welcoming cunning grins. Instead, he stares at me with his chin gruff and his eyes heavy, slicing through me.

"I can't fight the reality anymore," he states.

Swallowing, nerves take over.

Plop .

The pie drops to my feet.

"Shit." My eyes sink down to the splattered red and gold. That's going to be hell to clean up, but I'll worry about that later. "Uh, I made you a pie." I smile nervously in an attempt to break the tense air.

Finally, he steps closer, and his face relaxes. "I can see that." He smirks.

I roll a shoulder back, swimming my eyes in all directions except straight at him. "It turns out that I like you a lot, which means you finally get a pie," I attempt to joke.

"I finally deserve one? "

Nodding my head, I remind myself that I woke up intent of being the spitfire that I've always been around him. "I can't hide it anymore."

My mind turns flustered at all of the disappointment inside me because he seems different, as though his reality isn't my own.

Keats steps closer. "Me neither, and when I saw the pregnancy test…"

I gulp air. Shit. Shit. Shit.

How could I forget about that?

"It's not what you think. It's negative, and I was just trying to figure out if I've been good old-fashioned sick or if the stress of the house caused me to forget one or two pills." I hold my hands up as if I need to defend myself. "But it's negative," I assure him.

"I'm kind of pissed about that."

My eyes bug out. Okay, forget every warm and fuzzy feeling that I had when I woke up. That spell has now been broken, and I clench my fists at my sides. "Are you kidding me? Last I checked it's a mutual risk when you decide to put your cock inside me," I sneer.

Keats's mouth slants to the side as he scratches his neck, not at all concerned that he has unleashed my inner disdain that once swirled inside me before I fell hard for this guy. "This is unbelievable, to think that I made you a pie." I shake my head in astonishment for the turn of events. My finger darts out and points at him. "You don't deserve a pie."

Keats charges forward, flips my wrists and holds them up, with his eyes now cutting right through me.

"Woman, calm down," he grits out. He blows out an aggravated breath. "Of course, this would turn into an argument. It's you." My entire mouth gapes open, even though his tone isn't harsh, it's the opposite. I try and struggle out of his, admittedly, seductive move. "I'm pissed because it's negative."

What?

I still, and my eyes flutter, trying to ensure that I heard him right or if licking the bowl of dough earlier is causing me to think unrealistically. "W-what?" I stammer out.

His hands remain wrapped around my wrists. He should be laughing now because he's joking. Why isn't he doing that? "For some reason… I was disappointed that it's negative."

My nose lifts up because I'm still in disbelief. "Why?" He steps between my legs and walks me back to trap me between his body and the counter. The pressure of his palms is a little less, but he won't let me go.

"Because apparently you're the one I want to spend my future with," he rasps as his eyes dip down to my mouth and his thumb circles my cheek with a sly look, causing goosebumps to rise on my body. "It's clear as day now. I'm so completely in love with you. You're everything I want in the future that I never realized how much I crave. In simple terms, Esme, I love you. I fucking love you."

The balloon of irritation from the last few minutes pops, and my entire body sags in relief. Elation spreads through me, and my smile creeps up. "I love you too. I thought our domestic bliss was confusing me, or because we're stuck in the same place, sometimes a routine. Maybe unable to think past the now. I was waiting for hints that it wasn't a one-sided thing."

"This is a big fucking hint, no?"

My mouth might hurt from how wide my lips are stretching in a long line up. "I would say so."

Keats captures my lips and kisses me fiercely, like the many times that he has claimed me all for himself. This time is different, it's a permanent stamp that this is us for the long haul. I surrender my breath and lips to him as I scream with joy inside.

The slow parting of lips is only bearable because now we can speak freely.

"So yeah, I'm not angry about the test, only disappointed it's negative, even though we are nowhere near ready to be parents, and now I'm pissed because there is a pie on the floor after months of waiting." He grins.

I pinch his stomach at the way my man who used to be stern, grumpy, and insufferable is now lighthearted around me. "I know, it's gooey and between my toes."

Our eyes fall to see that somewhere during our stormy minute that I unknowingly stepped into dessert.

Keats laughs, and his answer to my predicament is to hoist me up until my behind is sitting on the counter.

"Sounds like us." He combs strands of my hair behind my ear, and his eyes with a lust-filled gleam lock with mine. "Maybe before I left earlier in the week, I wasn't thrilled at the reminder that you actually live next door."

"Kind of. We seem to have mailboxes next to one another. And if you're lucky, I might purposely not-so-accidentally send things to your address, which means you might have to deal with me more. Hope you don't mind." I nibble my bottom lip.

His tongue darts to the corner of his mouth. "Next door feels too far away, but I know you own the house." He doesn't sound enthused.

"Doesn't mean it's a home." The tips of my fingers come up to touch his jaw and keep his view on me. "It's not going to be a fast fixer-upper, and for all I know, they will tell me that I need to replace something else. Lucky for me, I have an amazing host who will let me stay, and I want to stay… for a really long time." I place a tender kiss on his lips.

"Damn straight."

Another kiss and another.

"Remember when we went to the field near the stream?" He nods at my words. "We talked about life just moving but missing a piece. Now, it's very clear that I was missing you. You make it exciting, and my life feels better."

He stares affectionately at me with his fingers tucking another strand of hair behind my ear. "Wildflowers. I thought of that moment too on the airplane. No longer my little demon, you're the one I needed all along to be a somewhat decent man." He smiles softly to himself.

"You are a little more than decent. I'm lucky, and you take care of me. I'm spirited and keep you on your toes. We both bring something to the table… which absolutely should not have any work papers on it."

He drops his head forward so our foreheads bump together. "Esme."

"I like the way you say my name. I don't think I've ever heard someone say it that way. You shouldn't be so tender. It never crossed my mind that someone can say it in a way that makes me theirs, and that's what I want."

"You are mine."

Then it escalates, and Keats begins to tug on my yoga pants, and my fingers fiddle with his jeans.

He ruthlessly drags off everything from my waist down, and he lowers his pants just enough. I'm lost in this moment and wrap my legs around his waist, and he drives right into me, causing me to yelp.

"I love you," he breathes into my ear.

"I love you," I rasp back before a moan escapes my lips.

My arm circles around his neck to give me stability, and he keeps my hips square and aligned to his as he plunges in and out of me. Our mouths suck when they meet and our teeth bite when we follow the map of one another's necks.

I could break into pieces purely because of how hard we are confirming the shift of our relationship. Also, because an orgasm is about to hit me like a tidal wave.

Neither of us are quiet, and our bodies knock on the counter with every thrust. Dizziness swirls in my head as my body is light but my heart a weight as this man is a rock that is unable to be moved, and that's the only way I want it.

"I think I might black out," Keats pants out.

I don't get a chance to answer as my orgasm rips through me which brings on his own. We both end up unable to move, and I'm confident that I can hear the racing of his heart. My head falls to his shoulder as I remain straddled around him. Keats grips the edge of the counter like he might collapse.

Our heavy breathing can't seem to shallow out, which just means we remain like this longer. My fingers draw on his back, and his jaw rests on my cheek.

"I might not survive keeping you forever," he jokes.

"Old man," I answer lazily.

Keats chuckles gruffly. "I like this smell. Sweat mixed with a pie-fumed kitchen."

"Weird but fine." My lips pout out then fall. "Oh no! Your pie."

"It's okay, you have plenty of time in the future to make me a new one."

"If you behave," I tease.

We stay in this embrace until gravity hits, and Keats pulls up his jeans and swoops up my panties from the floor. I put them on then grab the nearby kitchen towel to wipe my feet. "We should jump in the shower, and I'll clean this up later." I glance down to the travesty on the floor .

"Come on." He turns his back to me and invites me to jump on for a piggyback. As cute as it is, it's practical too since my feet are still sticky.

In the shower, we stand together under the water, with steam filling the room and hands on one another's backs. We haven't bothered yet with lathering soap.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and he must mean from my virus.

"You didn't get the memo that I was in the kitchen baking up a storm? But yeah, I'm feeling better. I'll probably need to head to bed early, though."

Keats releases a calm sigh. "We're all good on the clarification front? Need me to lay out any more terms?"

I stifle a laugh. "You just walked into a lawyer joke there that I shall not say. And no, all bright as day."

He slaps my ass, and I squeal from surprise. "Good. I like when you listen the first time."

I peer up to him. "Can you still say it again?"

"I love you." His tone is delicate.

I wrap my arms tighter around him and nuzzle into his chest for a few beats. "We've been on an adventure, you and I. I'm not sure I've really thought about my future with anyone until you came along. It doesn't scare me, but I was still afraid to say the words. As much as I'm defiant and stand my ground, I was waiting for you to lead the way."

Keats kisses my forehead. "Don't do that again. The games are over."

"Our truce," I lament.

Pulling me flush, I get the clue to climb up and bind my legs around his middle. He takes a few steps, and I feel the coolness of the tile against my back. "Trust me, when your house is ready, you won't move. It will be too far away from me, and you'll hate it. "

The tightening of my cheeks brings about my knowing grin. "Bossy yet probably true. We shall see."

He ogles his eyes at me. "Don't challenge me."

Keats doesn't need to. Still, I should probably bring reason. "We've established what we are and that we will take it one step at a time." Keeping a straight face, internally I believe I'm already three steps ahead. He kisses me again, and I feel his cock between us. "Really? Another round?"

He's amused as he places me back on my feet and guides me to ensure I'm fully under the water again. "Nah, I'll let you rest."

"Phew, I enjoy just lying in bed with you and staring at each other," I say as I grab the shampoo bottle.

Keats grows quiet, and I glance over my shoulder as he watches me with fondness. "I kind of like the way we got here. To this point, I mean. You think we'll build from this?"

Be still my heart. This man is head over heels in love with me.

"It will only get better," I promise.