Excuses

Franka

 

Early the next morning, a gods-awful racket sounded, jerking me from my slumber as dread set in that that sound could only herald the end of our world.

I shot bolt upright in bed.

As abruptly as it started, the sound stopped, and I turned fearful eyes to Noc to see him stretched toward his nightstand, touching the clock there that I’d learned was illuminated by a magic known as “electricity.”

“By the gods, darling, what on earth was that?” I asked.

He rolled back to me, looked at my face and grinned a heavy-eyed grin before he curled up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me down and rolling me to my back with his weight on me.

“It’s an alarm, Frannie,” he answered.

“I could tell that. Why was it sounding?”

“To wake me up. I gotta get ready for work and before I go in to do that, I gotta drop you at Valentine’s.”

This alarm contraption was clearly another amenity of this world and a needed one considering Noc did not have servants to wake him at the appropriate time.

Which gave rise to questions about how the servants in my past had woken at the appropriate time in order to do the same for me.

“Babe.”

I moved my focus from my thoughts to him.

His lids were still heavy with sleep but the look in his eyes was not sleepy in the slightest.

“Fuckin’ you first,” he declared, his head descending. “Start the day right.”

Oh yes. That would indeed start the day right. I knew this as a fact since Noc was a man and men on the whole tended to wish to start any day as such. It was just that Noc was the kind of man who did not wish something to happen, he made it happen.

He did so every morning and it absolutely started each day right.

This he set about doing right then and I would learn that prior to his going to his place of employment he would need to see to both our pleasures in limited time.

Noc had skill with this and it wasn’t the first time he’d demonstrated that to me.

However, it was the first time he’d situated my legs up his chest, my ankles to his shoulders, his hands in the bed for power and control, his eyes devouring me, his body positioned so my eyes could do the same.

This they did.

Deliciously.

“Fingers to your tit and clit, baby, wanna watch you help me take you there,” he growled his order, pulling out half way and circling while I positioned my hands as I’d been told.

His gaze dropped to them and he pulled out to the tip before he surged in and stayed.

My.

So lovely.

As lovely as it was, I needed more.

From Noc, I always needed more.

“Please move, darling,” I breathed.

“Pull at your nipple,” he demanded.

I gave him what he wished at the same time giving myself a bolt of beauty from breast to womb. The latter convulsed and I heard his grunt as it did. I dug my ankles into his shoulders uncontrollably.

I had more difficulty focusing on him when I repeated on a gasp, “Please, darling, move.”

He did as asked, going faster now and putting all his weight into one hand so his other could cover mine, his fingers over mine at my nipple, squeezing and pulling.

He needed do no more.

I ground into his strokes, my back arching, my lips parting and it quickly overwhelmed me, doing what Noc always made it do, consuming me.

“Keep at your clit, keep coming, baby,” Noc grunted, still driving deep and forcing my play at my nipple with his fingers.

“Noc,” I pushed out, continuing to toss on the waves of the climax he was giving me.

He made my fingers twist my nipple while he pulled and kept thrusting.

“Don’t stop coming,” he groaned.

“I…won’t,” I promised because I wasn’t.

I’d climax forever for him, if he wished, and do it gladly.

“Fuck,” he bit off. “Fuck,” he rasped.

He pulled my hand from my breast, forced his torso through my legs so they slid off his chest and he landed on me, burying his shaft deep and letting me watch the glorious spectacle from up close as his head snapped back and his own pleasure consumed him.

I rounded him with my limbs, twitching gently with the aftershocks and then stroking him through his.

When they’d left him, he dropped his mouth to mine and kissed me.

After he’d lifted his head, he asked quietly, “You wanna snooze while I shower and do your thing after I drop you at Valentine’s or you wanna get ready with me?”

“You’ll be away from me for the first time in this world that’ll last any amount of time, my dearest, heralding this being how it will continue to be. What do think I want to do?”

His face grew warm as he cupped my cheek in his palm and ran his thumb along my cheekbone.

“If that’s what you want, we gotta get a move on, sweetheart.”

I nodded.

Noc kissed me again.

After, we got a move on.

 

* * * * *

 

Early that evening, I nearly sprang from my seat in exaltation as, finally, after at least an hour of doing everything in my power to call it up, a vision formed in my crystal ball.

It was of a fine-looking, blond-haired, blue-eyed man with a tall, well-formed frame and a highly attractive manner.

Valentine’s lost lover.

It was no surprise she had good taste.

It was also no surprise she was clearly blocking me.

What was a surprise was that I broke through.

And now I somewhat understood her heartbreak for he was exceptionally handsome.

However, I could read no more because the image was fading fast, my blue smoke mingling with green taking it away at the same time I felt a presence join me.

At who I knew that presence was, I turned from my crystal and watched Noc sauntering in the room.

He smiled at me, glanced at my crystal ball then returned his smile to me.

I rose from my seat and offered him my own smile.

“Hello, darling. How was your first day with your new employers?” I asked.

He arrived at me, rounding me with an arm and bending his head to touch his lips to mine, all before he replied, “Paperwork. Meetings with clients. Going over cases they’re assigning me. Not exactly fun but they aren’t fucking around. They want me in the field tomorrow so I’ll be getting to the good stuff right away.”

I had no idea what “the good stuff” was but seeing as he’d described it thus, I lifted a hand to his biceps and murmured, “Excellent.”

Noc again looked to my magical orb, his smile having dimmed, his eyes speculative when he returned his attention to me.

“You spyin’ on Circe?” he queried.

I felt my frame stiffen slightly in affront as my mouth tightened. “Of course not.”

“Then what are you up to with your crystal ball?”

“Although time has passed, it would seem Valentine is not healing from her heartbreak so I was looking into that situation,” I shared.

Noc turned his gaze to the ceiling and declared there, “She’s barely done meddling with one, she’s starting in on the other.”

I put my other hand to his chest and gave it a slight push, again earning his regard.

“She’s suffering,” I stated.

“Give it a rest,” he returned.

“If I can do something—”

His arm tightened and his other hand came up to cup my jaw. “Baby, give it a rest. Circe is Circe. Sweet and loving and unable to hold a grudge. Valentine is an entirely different animal. I told you the play you made with Circe wasn’t the right one and we both know how that went. Not gonna back down on this. Valentine will lose her mind, you insinuate yourself in her situation. She means something to you. She’s a good woman, even if she doesn’t like to let that show. Don’t fuck with this. Straight up, Frannie. Don’t. You do, she’ll carry that grudge, if she can make it happen, she’ll do it magically from beyond the grave. And what I mean by that is you’ll lose her.”

I felt my mouth tighten again because he was probably right (probably).

Noc noted my nonverbal acceptance of his statement and changed the subject.

“You get Circe sorted at the mall?”

I nodded, moving past what we’d just discussed and I did it excitedly. “Yes, we bought her the most divine set of underwear. I’m quite certain Dax will be most affected when he uncovers—”

Noc took one arm from around me and lifted it, palm out. “Stop right there. That’s woman shit. I don’t need to know about Circe’s underwear or what you figure Dax will do when he sees it. I’ll go on to say that if she shares what he actually gets down to doin’, I don’t wanna know that either.”

I decided to say no more.

Noc decided the opposite.

“I’m hungry and don’t feel like cooking or hanging at a restaurant so you good with Chinese takeaway?”

I had no idea what Chinese takeaway was.

I still nodded.

“Josette with us?” he inquired.

I shook my head. “Glover’s picking her up soon to take her to dinner.” I made my thoughts clear on the subject of my next with my tone, “She’s spending the night tonight at his place. As she did last night.”

Noc grinned.

I did not.

Noc noticed my lack of enthusiasm for this and his grin got bigger.

However, he made no mention of it and simply said, “Then let’s get home.”

Home.

Yes.

I wanted to go there.

But only because that was where Noc wanted to be.

For me home was a different thing.

For me, home was simply Noc.

 

* * * * *

 

I liked Chinese takeaway.

Very much.

The utensils Noc had great skill in using to eat it I did not like because they were awkward. But I was determined to master them because Noc said, “You should eat any food the way it was meant to be eaten. Chinese doesn’t taste the same with a fork. Trust me, it’s better with chopsticks.”

It was excellent as it was.

Therefore I was definitely going to master chopsticks.

Dinner consumed, minimal cleanup achieved (I’d even helped, but as it was simply rinsing plates to put in the dishwasher, this was not difficult), we were lazing, cuddled on Noc’s couch, watching what he called a “crime drama.”

I was inattentive to this drama.

Instead, I was what I’d been on and off all day.

This being completely at a loss as to how to broach the subject in a meaningful way (this being in a way I could change his thinking entirely on the subject) of the issues I knew in my soul were coloring Noc’s world.

Or more to the point, the way Noc viewed himself in our world.

Issues I had no idea from where they stemmed.

When approaching this same subject with me, Noc faced it head on and made me do the same.

I did not think this same approach would be welcomed from me.

I just knew I had to find an approach.

But for the first time in my lifetime, prying into someone’s affairs, their emotions, their past, was not coming easy.

Which made matters worse, since this time was the most important I’d ever faced.

“She’s gonna be fine.”

Noc’s words pulled me from my reverie and I turned my head to look at him where he was snuggled into me, his front to my back.

“Sorry?”

His expression was gentle as was his tone.

“Circe, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry. She’s gonna be fine.”

I knew this. She was with Dax. He’d sink a blade in his own heart before he’d do that first thing to make her not fine.

However, I hesitated sharing this with Noc since I didn’t wish him to know what actually was on my mind.

“You’re a million miles away, but you can come back home. She’ll be good,” he continued to assure me.

“Of course,” I murmured noncommittally, feeling some guilt I wasn’t assuaging his concerns by sharing the truth.

“You can call her in the morning,” he stated.

I nodded.

I also studied his face.

He liked that I was concerned about Circe (he thought). He liked being nestled with me on the couch watching TV.

And he loved me.

He was in what I thought was a Noc Mood. A sweet one. An attentive one. A gentle one.

A mood that might be conducive to a certain kind of discussion.

I should face the issue head on. Tell him what I saw in him. All that I saw. Then ask him to share with me the pain he was holding, pain no longer hidden.

But it would seem I had the courage to commit treason for my country. I also had the courage to face three witches who could have obliterated me with a blink. And I had the courage to leave my entire world to travel to one that was all new to me.

But I didn’t have the courage to do one thing to force Noc to face whatever caused his pain by making him share that pain with me.

Blast.

“I’ll call her in the morning,” I told him.

“Good,” he muttered.

“I love you,” I blurted and his head gave a slight, surprised jerk before his eyes warmed and he bent his face closer to mine.

“I love you too, Frannie,” he whispered.

I wanted to use that opening to go on and find the right words to erase whatever was causing him harm without making him face it. To share with him all he meant to me and make him know he could release it just like he’d given that same gift to me.

I had many talents in many areas.

This just wasn’t one.

And I found it immensely frustrating.

Noc took us out of the moment by bending even deeper and kissing my nose.

He then turned back to the TV, lifting the remote to rewind the action to when he took his attention from it.

He was interested in this program.

Thus now was not the time.

But I had to find the time.

And I had to find a way.

I just didn’t know how to do either.

 

* * * * *

 

The next afternoon, the phone to my ear, the fifth time I’d called, I finally connected.

“’Lo?” sounded in my ear slumberously.

“Well?” I demanded.

“Frannie?”

I was no longer annoyed that yet another person was addressing me thus, this time Circe.

I had other things on my mind.

“Yes, Frannie,” I confirmed, even though I knew my name came up on her phone like all the names of the callers came up on mine and I didn’t need to do so. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day,” I snapped.

“Sorry. I’ve been busy,” she told me.

“You don’t sound busy. Are you napping at work?” I asked, not entirely incredulously. Circe seemed rather industrious. However, it could be that she was exhausted for a particular reason.

“Well, I’m not at work.”

I looked to my watch, surprised at this for I’d learned working hours in that world were eight in the morning until five in the evening (normally) and these were Circe’s hours. And right then, it was a quarter after three.

“Is something amiss at your employment?” I asked.

“No. It’s just I didn’t go into work today.”

I had no reply.

Her voice dipped when she said, “Dax hasn’t either.”

Oh my.

“Right,” I stated smartly. “Carry on,” I bid and concluded with, “Goodbye.”

And I hung up.

Then I started chuckling.

Still doing it, I reengaged my phone and called Noc.

“In other words, like I said,” he began after I relayed this information to him, “she’s not only fine, she’s more than fine.”

I could not argue that, didn’t even want to, so I said nothing.

“We done gossiping about Circe?” he queried with humor in his voice.

“For now,” I replied.

“Right,” he said. “Later, babe. Love you.”

“And I you.”

We hung up.

I was, indeed, done gossiping about Circe.

To Noc.

But I moved from where I was to Valentine’s kitchen to find Josette, who was practicing her this-world culinary skills.

Because I was not actually done gossiping about Circe.

News this good was news too good not to share.

 

* * * * *

 

Two days later, in the afternoon, I moved through a room in the home the agent was showing us, feeling it.

Feeling everything.

She’d found it.

It was perfect.

I had my phone to my ear and it was ringing.

“Sweetheart,” Noc answered.

“I think we’ve found it,” I whispered, having removed myself from Josette, the agent, and Valentine, who had driven us to the showing.

“It’s good?” he asked.

“It’s perfect, darling. The courtyard. The ceiling roses. A magic room for me. And many bedrooms.”

He was silent a second before he asked, “How you feelin’ like fillin’ those up?”

My voice dropped lower. “You know how.”

“Tell the agent I wanna see it. I got shit on with the job on Saturday so it’ll have to be Sunday.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Josette like it?” he queried.

“Yes,” I told him.

“Valentine with you?”

“Yes.”

“What’s she say?”

“She said, ‘it’ll do.’”

There was amusement in his voice when he replied, “So she likes it.”

“That’s my read.”

“Right. Good. I’ll look at it Sunday and we’ll discuss your offer.”

“Excellent, darling. Now I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Valentine dropping you at my place?”

“No, her caretaker is giving Josette and me driving lessons after this. Then he’s dropping me at your place. Josette is making dinner for Glover at Valentine’s. Trying her hand at her skills in the kitchen. Valentine is absenting herself. She hasn’t shared where she’s going.”

“Not a surprise,” he muttered. “I’ll see you when I get home then, yeah?”

“Yes, Noc.”

“Later, babe. Love you.”

“And I you, my darling.”

He rang off and I took the phone from my ear and turned my attention again to the room in which I stood.

Yes.

Perfection.

The room was. The house was.

I was not.

Noc had started his cases and this meant he woke us earlier. It also meant he came home later. And he even took phone calls and worked on his laptop after getting home.

He made it clear he did not mind this. He was enjoying his work, he made that clear too. It was not exhausting, it was invigorating.

I liked that for him. I drank my wine and watched the television or read a book I’d found at his house that was quite interesting and let him do what he enjoyed. And when it was time for me, I let him enjoy me.

Therefore, obviously, with his new job and the satisfaction he got from it, now was not the time to bring up whatever was festering inside him, shadowing his soul.

It was an excellent excuse.

But it was still an excuse.

I knew it.

I just didn’t know how to get past it.

 

* * * * *

 

That Sunday, Noc stood in a bedroom upstairs in the home I was considering purchasing.

The room in which I’d made my decision just days before and given him a call.

It was right now where a little girl slept. Pink walls. An elephant motif. Not frilly but still girly. Absolutely adorable.

It was the last room I allowed him to enter.

The courtyard was lovely, elegant, private and serene, mature plants, with a handsome, built-in grilling apparatus I knew Noc would love (and he did).

My magic room would be a sunroom, bright and cheery, seeming outside when it was in.

The master suite, as it was known here, was luxurious with a separate shower and bath, both utterly divine.

And the kitchen was large and stylish, but welcoming, making Noc’s assertion that it was the heart of the house very true.

I liked all those things.

But I’d decided this house was the one based on this room.

He was staring at a stuffed elephant on the bed.

“Darling?” I called.

His eyes came directly to me.

“I love it,” he stated. “We’re offering.”

We were offering.

He liked his house. I did too.

But this tall, stately, elegant, spacious place was going to be our home.

I felt my throat close.

Amara would sleep there.

Right there.

I knew it just looking at him.

I felt my face get soft and I smiled.

Noc’s face didn’t get soft. The look on his was fierce.

Even so.

He smiled back.

 

* * * * *

 

“Frannie.”

“Yes, darling.”

“Sugarlips, I’m home.”

“Yes, darling.”

Silence.

Then a shaking, “Babe.”

“Yes, darling?”

I did not see the hand that came to the apparatus I held in my own.

What I saw on the television screen was the action pausing.

My eyebrows shot together, I twisted my neck to the side, bent it back and glared at Noc, who was smiling down at me hugely.

“I was making record time!” I snapped.

“Babe,” he replied.

“Do you know how many efforts it took to get to that time?” I demanded to know.

“Babe,” he repeated.

“You paused me!” I continued to snap.

“Babe,” he said again, this sounding clogged, likely due to his visible hilarity.

“I’ll never get that run back!” I groused and did it loudly.

“Love you. Think it’s cute as all fuck you’re Franka Drakkar and Franka Drakkar is a woman who’d be so into a fuckin’ video game she wouldn’t even look at her man when he came home from work. But just sayin’, I just got home from work and I want my woman not only to look at me but greet me with a smile and give me a kiss, my preference, with tongues, even if it messes with her record time while it looks like she’s racing a fake race car in a make-believe video version of Monaco.”

I felt instantly contrite, set the apparatus aside and pushed myself up from his couch.

I then fitted myself in his arms, wrapping my own around him, lifted up on my bare toes and gave him a kiss.

With tongues.

When I rocked back, both of us held on.

“Welcome home, my darling,” I said softly. “How was your day?”

“Best part of it happened just now,” he replied in my same tone. “Though, that isn’t strictly true since what you gave me this morning edges it out.”

I didn’t give him anything.

In bed and with everything else, it was always Noc doing the giving.

I melted into him.

“See you introduced yourself to the PlayStation,” he noted.

“I didn’t. Josette did before she left in a taxi to meet some friend of Glover’s. They’re at an establishment that has wine and paint. I don’t understand what that means but she reports she’s going to be drinking and painting on a canvas, even though she’s never painted a thing in her life.”

“That’s strange,” he noted.

“I agree,” I replied. “But she seemed excited about it.”

His arms gave me a squeeze. “Maybe you should have gone with her.”

Was he mad?

“And missed time with you?”

That didn’t get me an arm squeeze.

That earned me another kiss, this also with tongues, and it lasted longer.

When he lifted his head, he stated, “Dinnertime. Past dinnertime, actually. So you got a choice. I can throw some burgers on the grill or we can order pizza.”

I liked burgers.

But pizza beat out everything.

Except, perhaps, lobster, but Noc didn’t offer that.

And regardless, as I glanced to his entertainment station, I saw it was well after seven in the evening.

He didn’t seem fatigued, but he’d left for work before seven that morning, thus I didn’t want him cooking.

What I did want was whatever he wanted.

“You chose, darling,” I said.

“Feelin’ like a burger.”

“How can I help?” I asked.

He grinned at me stating clearly that any help I may be able to give wouldn’t be much help at all, but he then let me go, took my hand and guided us to the kitchen.

“When it’s time, you can get out the chips and condiments. I’ll do the rest.”

These were things I could do.

I could also get him a beer, which I did. And I could open my own bottle of wine, I was relatively certain (I had watched him and a number of servants open a vast quantity of them), which I started to try to do but was halted.

“Babe, no,” Noc muttered gently, ceasing his endeavors of opening up a package of meat to take the wine bottle and opener from me.

“I can pour myself wine, Noc,” I told him.

“You snap open a beer for me, that’s sweet, babe. But I get you your wine. Deal?”

I supposed.

Thus I also nodded.

He got me my wine leaving me nothing to do but sit at the counter and watch him form hamburgers with his hands.

I found this fascinating but mostly because Noc had beautiful hands and I’d watch them do anything, including manipulating meat.

As had become the norm, he didn’t tell me much about his day because he wasn’t at liberty to share too much about his cases.

We nevertheless found many things to chat about, as we usually did. How the purchase was going with my house. How Valentine seemed to be coming back to herself, still melancholy, but she’d begun discussing the things I would be doing with her and taking an interest in showing Josette and I our new world. How I’d be going to what was referred to as a “gynecologist” the next day to see about “birth control.” And how Circe and Dax had not spent one evening apart since our dinner that was now a week and a half ago.

He went out to fire up the grill and I remained seated, ignoring the fact that it had now been a week and a half since that evening Circe and Dax had come for dinner, and in that week and a half I had found excuse after excuse to set aside the fact that I had not found the right time or the right way to approach Noc about my concerns.

He made this easy due to the fact he seemed most content with absolutely everything. My being a part of his life, in his home and bed. Spending time with Jo. Being involved in his new cases.

You had to look to know he carried pain.

But I’d looked.

So I knew.

I just wasn’t doing a thing about it.

What I was doing was becoming quite adept at ignoring it or making excuses that it wasn’t the right time to do anything about it.

On that thought, his phone that he left on the island rang just as he was walking back in from outside.

I looked to it, saw on the screen the word Dad, then I looked to Noc, stiffening.

“Your father,” I told him.

Noc, who was always so very Noc, appeared delighted his father was calling, didn’t hide this and went right to the phone.

I was not delighted.

I was pleased he clearly enjoyed hearing from his father.

But it was a father I would one day meet, of this I was certain. And when I did, I would need to impress him and even make him care for me, and this I was not certain I could achieve.

“Hey, Dad,” Noc answered, moving to the refrigerator.

I slid off my stool and began to gather the detritus of meat wrappings to throw them away.

“Yeah, it’s good. Like it. Caseload is way lighter than on the force, means more focus. Respect the men I work for. Team’s tight too,” he stated, coming out of the fridge with a tomato.

I pressed my lips together at the sight of the tomato and went to the cupboard for chips.

“She’s good,” he said softly. “Lookin’ forward to you meetin’ her.”

I felt my shoulders tighten as I selected my favorite variety of chips (one I noted was Noc’s too), barbeque.

“What?” he asked, his voice changing.

That was to say, changing significantly.

I turned to him, chips in hand.

He had his phone to his ear but his eyes were riveted to the tomato he’d placed on the island and he was now unmoving.

“No, I didn’t forget,” he stated, and his tenor was deteriorating.

I stood still and kept my attention on him.

“Yeah, I will,” he declared, and I read his next as interrupting his father when he carried on swiftly and curtly, “Told you I will. So I will.” There was only but a brief pause before, “We’ll see about it next year.” Another brief pause and then, his voice lower, somewhat conciliatory, but still tight, he said, “I know it means something to you, so like I said, we’ll see about it next year.” There was a small measure of silence before he went on, “Yeah, it’s about Frannie bein’ here and me startin’ the job and, like I said, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it this year but it’s the way it is.”

Slowly, I made my way to the island and stopped, standing opposite him, finding it troubling that Noc, always attuned to me, always, didn’t lift his head to watch me do this or even when he sensed me arrive.

“I know it’s the first time I missed it, Dad, but I got a lot goin’ on,” he continued. “Next year, we’ll see about it. But you know I got things in my life now where it isn’t just all about me. I’m not there for one, so it isn’t as easy for me to be there seein’ as I’m all the way across the country. And if I got time off, I gotta share it the way we wanna share it, Franka and me, not just me makin’ the decisions.”

I was reeling from learning the information through his conversation that it was clear Noc had already told his father about me, but I had little time to recover.

What he’d just said quite obviously did not go over very well with his father, and I knew this when Noc’s back shot straight, forcing his eyes to aim away from the island.

But they stared unseeing beyond me.

“I know what it means to you. Of course I fuckin’ know,” he growled infuriatedly, and shockingly disrespectfully.

I stood still, silent, stunned that Noc could sound like that at all much less aiming it at his father.

“Yeah, it’s a tough time for us all, Dad, and I get that. I get it for you, probably now more than ever, havin’ Frannie. I get that for Dash and for Orly. What I keep tryin’ to get you to get is that the way you deal with it might not be the way we all wanna do that.” There was another moment of silence before he declared, “Dash is like you. But Orly is like me. And not to dig the knife in deeper, but to make my point, he’s also like Judy.” A very brief pause before, “You get my point, you totally get it. Don’t make me say it.”

And then there was a very long pause as I watched, fascinated and horrified, as emotion twisted Noc’s beautiful features. Ugly emotion. Pain so deep witnessing it wounded me. My heart squeezed, my stomach lurched, and it took everything for me not to round the island and envelope him in my arms in the effort to absorb his pain, take it deep inside me so it was something he’d never again feel.

But he wouldn’t want that. Not in that moment. Everything about him screamed it.

So it cost me, but I stayed put.

“Okay, I’ll say it. She’d hate this shit and you know it. Every fuckin’ year, Dad, we do it for you and because Dash gets somethin’ out of it. But it’s mostly for you. I want you to have what you need. But you know Judy would fuckin’ hate it. Thought it every fuckin’ year, kept it to myself. Talked to Orly about it. He kept it to himself. You pushed it. Now you’re hearing it. Judy’d think that shit was fucked up. And my guess, deep down you know it.”

I realized I was holding my breath, drew in a deep one, and held that.

“Think that’s a good idea. We’ll leave it at that and talk more later. But like I said, I promised I’d do it here. And I’ll do it here.” A very short pause before, “Right. Love you,” he pushed out tersely. “’Bye.”

With that, he hit the screen of his phone with his thumb and tossed it with a rather volatile clatter on the island.

Then he scowled at it.

“Darling?” I whispered.

He turned his scowl to me.

I swallowed at the range and depth of emotions in it, anger, frustration and hurt.

“Is everything all right?” I queried carefully.

“You been standin’ right there, gorgeous, and you don’t know the answer to that?” he asked, his tone edged sharply with sarcasm.

What did I do now?

I’d never had this Noc.

I didn’t even know there could be this Noc.

I decided to start with something benign.

“You’ve told your father about me?” I asked.

“Love my dad. He’s not a colossal dick like yours, so I fall in love with a woman, she’s all but livin’ with me and I see my future with her in it, he’s the first one I tell.”

This delighted me in all ways except the tone with which he shared it.

“You hadn’t shared that with me,” I told him quietly.

“Well, sorry, babe. Now you know,” he replied shortly, grasped the plate with the burgers and stormed out of the kitchen to the deck.

I drew in breath and followed.

Before I even got close to him, he warned, “Not in the mood to talk about it, Frannie.”

I stopped and stared at his back, noting his movements of putting the burgers on the flame were stilted, but noting this only vaguely.

My mind raced for something to say.

It seemed to take eons but I finally caught on it.

“I’m here for you when you are, my love.”

“Right,” he bit off.

“Like you always are for me.”

“Yeah,” he stated dismissively.

He wanted no more words said.

Yet I sensed I should not leave it at that.

I hesitated a moment before I admitted, “You’re clearly feeling something upsetting and I want to help, but I don’t know how.”

He turned, dropping the lid on his grill, and growled, “You can help by opening up the chips. I’m fuckin’ hungry.”

He then prowled right by me and into the house.

I kept my eyes to the grill, deciding the next day I was going to start practicing slicing tomatoes at Valentine’s.

I could open a packet of chips.

But it was becoming clear that after experiencing the exquisite glow of realizing you’d found the man you’d love for eternity and he’d found you right back, life intruded.

I needed to be brave and face that life head on. I needed to be able to cope with whatever came at me. But more, at Noc.

I needed to learn to do what he did.

Support. Nurture. Care. Understanding.

And I had no skills in those areas.

I couldn’t even slice his tomato.

But I could learn to slice a bloody tomato.

And I had to learn it all.

 

* * * * *

 

Noc pulled me down on his cock, I gasped at the silken violence of it and watched as he came.

We were both seated, me in Noc’s lap, my legs wrapped around his hips, his legs stretched beyond me.

He’d already given mine to me. So in his moment, I simply held him in my arms, and when his head fell forward, his forehead resting on my shoulder, I buried my face in his neck.

“I love you,” I whispered there, and for once, words of such grave import felt like they meant very little at all, for I knew I should be giving him so much more.

He turned his lips to my skin and kissed me before he whispered back, “Love you too, Frannie.”

His words did not feel the same as mine.

They felt like they gave me everything.

With nothing further, he pulled me off him, set me gently in the bed and exited it, not going to the bathroom before he twitched the covers over me.

Nurture.

Care.

He was back in no time, pulling me into his embrace, burrowing into me, holding me tucked close, my back curved into his front.

He said nothing, and after a short period of time, I sensed him drift to sleep.

I did not.

He’d held his mood throughout the evening, therefore I was surprised with his continued distance when he’d instigated lovemaking.

I was surprised but I did not demur.

It was what he needed, what I always wanted, and last, it was the only thing I knew how to give.

He deserved more.

I did not know how to give it to him.

But as I lay in his embrace, feeling his strength and heat swathing me, protective and fortifying even in his sleep, I knew the time I allowed excuses to delay me were over.

There would be no more excuses.

I needed to give my Noctorno more.