Chapter 97

Chapter0097
This has beenafun evening. It’s been great watching my father look sohappyalmost youthful again.
When Rik asks what kindofple his mom made, Ihadtosniffit.It smellsgood, like peanut butter. But, if I’m being honest, the room now smells like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups between the pie and Rik’s brownie scent. My mouth is watering and if anosecould orgasm,mine would be. When he wrapped his arm around my waist and leaned in to sniff the pie, I had to fight the urge to lick his neck. It was right there, I could just lean in…..
Coffee! Yes,we need coffee. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem nearly as distracted as I am. I begin to wash the dishes, trying to get my head out of the gutter while he’s making coffee. But then, he’s there, taking my hands and he kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before. It’s possessive, passionate, loving, and so full of promise that all I can do is grab hold of his shirt and let myself getlostin the sensations of his mouth and his chocolatey smell commanding my attention.
I’m so lost in the onslaught to my senses, that I have totally forgotten where we are. When I hear someone clear their throat, I can’t be bothered to care. I am blissed out on Rik. Even after opening my eyes, I’m in his trance. I give my head a quick shake trying to come to my senses.
When he asks, I’m astonished to learn that Rik doesn’t know about my nickname. Dad, of course, proudly announces that I pinned Anders in fifteen minutes.
I did not know that my mother had done the same thing in her time. It reminds me that I need to go to her memorial. Maybe Rik would want to go with me. I know this is usually his night to go with his mom, but maybe I can convince him to go with me this weekend.
Imagine my surprise, when I also find out that my nickname comes from my dad. In hindsight, it was the older warriors that started calling me that, so it was intentional. I just didn’t understand it at the time. Now I’m proud of my
nickname. It means I’m like my father, and there is no one in the world I’d rather be like than my amazing father.
When we finish, Rik helps me clear the dishes again. When we’re done, I look at him.
“Can I show you something?”
His face lights up, like I’ve just told him he’s won the lottery. “Of course.”
+15 BONOS
I take his hand, intending to guide him to my room. “Dad, Anders, we’re going upstairs. If I miss you Anders, have a good week.”
They both stop talking and turn to look at me like I’ve got two heads. Dad’s eyes track to my hand holding Rik’s. “The door stays open Cara.”
“Dad! Seriously?”
“Door. Open.” This time, he looks at Rik and there is a clear warning there.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes and pull Rik along. I grab my flowers on my way upstairs. I want them back in my room where they belong.
When we get to my room, I let go of his hand and put the flowers back where the other ones were. I begin to clean up the dead flower petals that litter my desk. When I turn back, Rik is taking in my room. I see his brows furrow as he looks at my new bearskin rug. But, as I watch, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. I sniff, but don’t smell anything. I wash my sheets every week, so it can’t be that. When he turns, he has a beautiful smile on his face. Ok, so maybe my room smells good? Maybe he smells the lingering scent of the candles he bought me? I point to the loveseat against the window where I’ve watched him in training.” Have a seat.”
He goes over and sits down. I walk around my desk and pull The History of the Guardian from a drawer in my desk. I don’t know how many people know I have it, but I think it’s better to keep it out of sight, just in case.
I have read some passages and want to share what I had found with Rik. It seemed only fitting since he was the one that got me the book.
I lug the giant tome over to the loveseat and sit beside him, laying the book on both of our laps. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, his warmth seeping into me. The smell of brownies becomes overwhelming again, and I turn into his chest. and sniff. I tried to be inconspicuous about it, but, of course, he notices.
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