“I always wake up early, it comes from growing up on a farm I guess.”
“I see. Well it’s early yet but are you ready for breakfast?” I stood to go to the refrigerator.
“Why don’t you sit and let me do it this time?”
I studied her for a bit with her sleep tousled hair in the little house on the prairie nightdress, her bare feet small and somehow very sexually arousing with their unpolished nails.
“No, I’ll cook for you, sit.” She’d had a rough week and needed tending to. I was going to take whatever time she wasn’t being prodded and primped in the next few days to see that she enjoyed herself. That she finally got to see the city the way I’m sure good old Marion hadn’t allowed her to.
She took a seat at the table as I poured her a glass of juice. Her eyes followed me around the room as I moved back and forth from the fridge to the stove so I could make her egg whites with turkey bacon and whole grain toast.
I’m sure sometime in the next few days she’d meet some food nazi who was going to tell her what she could and could not eat, but I wasn’t about to let that fly.
From now on, I’m the only one who will take charge of such things where she was concerned. I had no intentions on letting anyone turn her into a replica of herself.
In fact, the only reason I was even letting her do this is because she came here with a dream; but I have other plans for my little Kitten. Plans that do not involve her starving herself to fit into some societal mold!
In fact, if all goes my way, she’d be heading hard in the opposite direction from what any casting agent might prefer.
Again my thoughts were leading me down a path best left untouched for now. In my jaded way I knew that I could have her now if I wanted, she was vulnerable, sweet and she felt the pull. But not her, no way was I going to make a mockery of what we will eventually mean to each other.
So I ignored the seemingly ever-present hard-on as I bustled around the kitchen preparing the first of many breakfasts we’d share. “Did you sleep well baby?”
“Yes, the bed is so soft, like sleeping on a cloud.” She smiled bright when I turned back over my shoulder to look at her but I could see the slight sadness in her eyes.
“Eat up, you need your strength.” I let my hand brush innocently against the back of hers as I placed her plate in front of her. “So you had a good night then, that’s good.”
“Yes, thank you I did. I wasn’t sure I would after…after everything that happened, but as soon as I put my head down I fell asleep.”
I smiled at her with none of my inner thoughts showing. It must be the lavender I’d added to her bath and underneath her pillow the night before.
I didn’t want her fretting herself over the likes of Marion; she wasn’t worth it. I could see she was still a little raw from her ordeal, but I wasn’t about to bring it up again and spoil the morning.
We chatted easily as I tried to tell her some of what she might be facing today. It was good to see some of the excitement coming back to her.
“Do you really think I can do it Cal? I mean, I’ve never done anything like this before and Ms. Deveraux seems to want me to just jump right in. What if I mess up?”
I covered her hand with mine, “you’ll be perfect Kitten stop worrying.” She took a deep breath and chatted away about any and everything and with a jolt I remembered how young she was. Damn, I’m a cradle robber.
She talked about her best friend back home and how she couldn’t wait to give her the news. There wasn’t an ounce of malice or bragging in her voice, just a young girl who expected her friend to be happy for her. Thank heavens I’d been the one to find her. I think I’d keep saying that little prayer everyday for the rest of my days.
“Why don’t you call her later after we’ve finish here?”
“Really, but I don’t have a phone.”
“Use mine or the house line love.” She seemed a little hesitant at the offer. “What is it what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s just; isn’t it a bit expensive for me to call home?”
“I don’t think so unless she lives on another planet.” I joked not quite sure why she would think that it would be.
“But aunt Marion said…”
“What did she say?”
She fiddled with the tail end of her sleeve and bit into her lip.
Down boy, it’s not an invitation, not with this one.
On any other woman that look, the affectation, would scream flirt; the fact that she did it so effortlessly, so naturally, only piqued my interest farther. As if it needed it. “Well?”
“She said I couldn’t call home because it cost too much.”