amop-series #59
/RELATIVE MATTERS/
Andrew Flynn followed the younger male albeit taller version of Sharon Raydor inside the apartment, stepping over the threshold as Sharon’s seemingly exuberant son bid him welcome with a lopsided grin and crinkled eyes. Andy quickly kicked his shoes off before he followed the bouncy stride of Ricky Raydor, dropping his overnight bag by the sofa.
Andy watched the kid with a headshake and a curving smile, neatly folding his black leather jacket across the back of the sofa.
“Kick back - relax,” Ricky said in a cheerful manner, the boy high-spirited.
“Sure thing,” Andy grunted back, a raised eyebrow that swept right past the boy’s attention.
Andy wondered where Sharon was and if she was aware of the fact that her whole apartment smelled like a concoction of sugar and something spicy, the scent heavy in the air the closer he deviated toward the kitchen.
The kid turned around to regard Andy at the entrance to the kitchen, both of his hands on his hips, “She will be so pleased to see you, you know,” the boy paused and then gave a too casual shrug, “well once she gets over the surprise of a guest, that is. Then she will be pleased, you know in that equivocal way of hers.”
Andy furrowed his brow, “She doesn’t know you invited me, Ricky?”
What was it with Sharon and her sneaky offspring? It must be some genetic trait for sure Andy thought with a headshake, the last time her daughter had been in town the little rascal had made sure Andy was free to accompany her mother to New York to see one of her shows. And Ricky, well, Ricky was Ricky.
The kid smiled deviously, “Nah - we are gonna spring it on her. A little Christmas surprise, you know, or miracle,” the boy laughed, “or something.”
Andy cynically quipped, “Yeah, Sharon Raydor loves surprises.”
Ricky laughed again, the sound rich.
Andy chuckled, the sound more subdued.
“It’s a smart thing,” the kid said as he disappeared into the kitchen, the volume of his voice turning up, “this way she won’t have to sneak off into her bedroom to call you. Heck, you can do, you know bed stuff. I came prepared - with earplugs.”
This time Andy laughed out loud.
“Little shit,” he commented in a wry tone and then followed the boy. When he rounded the corner into the kitchen his eyebrows quirked even higher and he couldn’t help but blurt, “Damn kiddo. That’s a right mess if I’ve ever seen one.”
Ricky’s smile only widened. The boy was no doubt overly satisfied with his accomplishment; the remains of Sharon’s otherwise pristine kitchen lay in shambles, altogether disorganized and chaotic. There wasn’t one single clean spot on her kitchen counter, Andy reflected, and appliances and tools lay haphazardly here and there, waiting either to be used or to be cleaned. Sharon always made it a poignant point to clean up simultaneously when she worked in her kitchen - and Andy’s kitchen too - whereas her lovely offspring seemed to have made it his sole purpose to not clean anything at all.
“Oh, don’t worry. I will clean it up at some point,” Ricky told him when Andy continued to look around with disbelief that was hurriedly turning into an itch to clean the mess.
“So, where is your mother? Soaking in the bathtub, blissfully ignorant about your shenanigans I hope?”
“She went grocery shopping,” the kid told him with a curved mouth, “even though she is well aware that the fridge is fully stocked.”
Andy hummed in response and pushed aside a bowl with a sieve in it, fresh raspberries lying in it so he could lean on the counter with an elbow, amused as he watched the kid joggling everything.
Andy snuck two fingers out and took one raspberry when Ricky’s back was turned, the kid checking on whatever he had put in the oven. Ricky spun around again and then took the dough he had in one big bowl and started rolling it out in a long roll on the counter.
Andy was of a half mind to remind the kid to clean the surface before rolling the dough out - but then thought better of correcting what really wasn’t his own child. Instead he silently watched the flour that whirled up from the surface of the counter and then settled again, some of it easily flying over the edge and landing somewhere on the floor. Oh, Sharon would have a fit he thought with a grin; she was such a neat freak.
“Hey,” Ricky suddenly stopped his motions and then with sticky dough fingers presented Andy with a piece of the dough, “does this need more cinnamon? I wasn’t sure - and well, I could barely make out the scrawl on the recipe, so - what do you think?”
Andy made a show out of deliberately giving the chunk of dough a suspicious look, smiling when the kid blew out an exasperated exhalation, “Well, c’mon, uncle Flynn.”
Andy grimaced at the nickname and quickly took the sugar concoction. He took a bite and then shrugged, “Nah, it’s fine.”
“Great,” Ricky laughed, “I was hoping to be able to get these done by the time she comes back. Maybe a cookie will cheer her up.”
“So, why in the world did she go grocery shopping when you are fully stocked anyway?” Andy asked and then quickly commented in a dry voice, “Not that I can blame her - did she take one look at you in her kitchen and decide it was better to remove herself?”
Ricky chuckled cheerfully, “No, no. I only started on this whole mess after she left.” The kid paused, features turning pensive, “She got a call from Jackson. It’s an old tactic, I guess. An escape plan of sorts. I figured it out years ago - my father would call or send some idiotic postcard and she would hurry off to do something, you know, keeping busy.”
“So, you decided to desecrate her kitchen in the mean time?”
“I’m baking Christmas cookies for her,” the kid told him, “and dinner - because well, we’ve gotta eat.”
Andy looked at all the different foods on display in the kitchen, “Right - then on all accounts what are everything else? Because it looks to be the beginnings of a feast able to dine at least a dozen people.”
“Rolls for tomorrow,” the kid shrugged as he pointed at the oven as if it was an everyday occurrence to be in the middle of making dishes to last a lifetime, “and well, I needed caffeine so I had to grind beans - and I wanted to try out this new vinegar. Self-made, you see, with rosehip petals.”
Andy chortled, “Rosehip petals, what are you - a fancy gourmet now.”
Ricky simply smiled, “It was mom’s idea.”
“Of course it was,” Andy shook his head, trying to imagine the fearsome Captain Raydor tripping around somewhere plucking off petals.
Andy pointed to his left, “And the sliced carrots, hmm?” he paused and then with a headshake, “Is that hummus?”
“The coffee made me hungry and seeing the woman I call mother conveniently forgot to tell me where she stocks her candy I made do with her vegetables,” the boy tsk’ed, “Can you believe it, she completely changed her hiding place on me. She used to keep all her nice stuff, foreign chocolate and whatnots, in the back of her closet - but oh no, it’s changed.”
Andy grinned wide, “Well, whaddaya need kiddo? Chocolate? Twizzlers?”
Ricky crossed his arms in disbelief, “Sharon Raydor showed you her secret hiding place for her stash of fancy candy? Seriously! No way.”
“Yes way,” Andy replied shaking his head in amusement.
The kid bounced in place, “Oh, please tell me.”
“Are you gonna raid it?”
“Naturally,” the kid replied with a smile that went from ear to ear.
Andy shrugged, “Okay then,” he made a motion with his finger, beckoning the kid to follow him into the living room and her work desk. They crouched by her desk and Andy enjoyed the positively gleeful look on the kid’s face.
Sharon chose that moment to come through the front door, aloof in a pair of sun glasses and a shopping bag in one hand and her keys in the other.
She stopped short at the sight of Andy and Ricky kneeling by her desk, hands on the bottom drawer.
“You better remove your hands and back away from my desk this very instant,” she told them in a dry tone, “especially if you wish to keep any of your fingers intact.”
Andy and Ricky quickly straightened, both trying to not break out in laughter.
Sharon turned around and deposited her keys, her heels being kicked off rather uncharacteristically before she swiftly made her way to the kitchen.
Andy watched Ricky trying to adopt an innocent expression as they followed his mother into the kitchen.
She seemed too unfazed by the mess but then maybe she was used to her son’s messy attitude when it came to cooking.
With a little headshake she made a quick turn and instead put up her shopping bag up on the living room table.
“So, lieutenant Flynn,” Sharon said as she started unpacking the bag, bringing up a bottle of red wine, a little pot with fresh herbs and a nice packet of French nougat, “I see you’ve invaded my home.”
Andy feigned a serious expression, “Yeah, I got a warrant to search the premises and everything, Captain.”
Sharon only quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Uh, watch out,” Ricky piped up, “the queen is not amused.”
Sharon turned her eyebrow at her son instead but he was quick to start rolling his dough again, pretending not to see her look of warning.
Andy shrugged and made a jerk toward Ricky, “Your devil spawn over there invited me, Captain.”
Ricky sniggered until Sharon glared fully at him. He looked sufficiently chastised and bent his head - it was only for show however, the moment Sharon turned her head back to Andy the kid looked smug once again, doing an eye roll for Andy’s benefit.
Sharon smiled at him, the expression not entirely cheerful when he couldn’t see her eyes behind the sun glasses, “You are welcome to stay, yes.”
“Mighty good of you,” Andy chuckled.
She shook her head with a wry smile, and then quickly reached out to grab the wine bottle.
“Don’t mind me,” Andy leaned in and whispered, “if you want a glass, have one.”
She shrugged, “I’ll save it for later.”
Andy gave her a gentle smile and then followed her movements with his eyes. She went to put the bottle away, her sun glasses finally coming off. She shook her head at Ricky before they shared a smile.
“I’m going to,” she looked at the both of them, expression hard to decipher, “take a shower.”
Ricky nodded, “Dinner will be ready in,” he looked at the wrist watch he had left on the counter full of flour and some other unspecified substance, “hmm, approximately half an hour, I guess.”
“Thank you honey,” Sharon smiled and drew her son into a one-armed hug before she started in the direction of her bedroom.
Andy saluted the kid, “Happy cooking,” and then he followed Sharon, closing her bedroom door behind him with a resounding click.
Sharon spun around and regarded him with a little scrutinizing look.
“If you want me to go, I’ll go - no hurt feelings or anything.”
She shook her head, her head tilting from side to side as her hand went to the back of her neck.
“You sure you don’t mind me being here?” Andy asked again, surprised when she went willingly into his outstretched arms and returned the embrace with a tight grip, her head turning so she could rest one cheek against his chest.
“Not at all,” she replied, her voice muffled and low, “I want you to stay but I thought you were spending today with your family.”
Andy kissed the top of her head, “Plans were cancelled.”
“Oh,” she looked up, “nothing serious?”
Andy shook his head, “No, no - just the ex making a fuss about everything. I’ll drive by everyone tomorrow and give them their presents. That way the kids don’t have to listen to their parent’s squabbling about the past. Christmas shouldn’t be bitter you know.”
Sharon smiled, and then stood up on tiptoe to plant a warm kiss on his lips.
Andy returned the kiss.
“So, Ricky said Jack called?”
“He wanted to wish me a Merry Christmas and then went down memory lane, only to end up enquiring about loaning money.”
Andy shook his head, “Jackass.”
Sharon laughed, “Yes, he is.”
“You know what?” Andy told her, watching as she leaned against his chest, her arms tightening around him once again.
“No,” she mumbled.
“I know we agreed to no presents this year but -, ” Andy started and watched as Sharon leaned back from his embrace and gave him an aloof look, “but I found a little thing, and it reminded me of you. So I bought it and wrapped it and everything.”
Her lips twitched, “Did you now.”
Andy nodded, his mouth apart in a big grin, “Yeah.”
Her mouth curved into a full crescent, “I bought you something too, honey.” The confession left the smile even more radiant, beckoning him forward. So naturally Andy leaned down and captured her lips again, the kiss more heated this time, more pressure and energy.
His hands sneaked under her t-shirt, lifting the garment so he could let his fingers travel up and down the bare skin of her stomach.
“Your son is as sneaky as they come, huh,” he commented to her when they shared breath, lips touching.
“He is a sweetheart is what he is,” she returned with a crooked smile and a gleam in her eyes, her head tilted back so they could look at each other, “too tuned into his mother and her mood swings.”
“You raised him well,” Andy told her, a note of pride in his voice.
She smiled self-consciously.
Andy splayed his hands on her back, keeping her close as he kissed her again. The gravity of it seemed heavy, almost euphoric.
Her lips were decidedly redder afterwards and there was a peculiar look in her eyes he ascribed to feeling overwhelmed.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, quick to kiss them again, quick to make sure she really understood it.
“Now, you better hurry up,” he slapped her ass teasingly, “or that shower won’t be over before dinner, huh.”
She put her hands on her hips, one eyebrow lifting.
Andy simply smiled, “Go on - we have all night, right.”
She looked down as a little blush started creeping across her cheeks.
Andy leaned in, “Maybe my present is something to be used after dark.”
She looked up with a jerk, still blushing, “Oh you - ,”
Andy gave her another swat on her bottom and watched her stalk to the closed bedroom door, giving him a narrowed look over her shoulder. She opened the door and he watched her go in the direction of the bathroom.
Andy smiled to himself and then went to the kitchen.
Ricky was in the middle of putting the sliced dough on baking paper, a carrot in his mouth and a concentrated look.
“Hey, did you know your mother owns a bean bag gun?”
“What! Seriously?”
Andy laughed.
…
=)
Andrew Flynn followed the younger male albeit taller version of Sharon Raydor inside the apartment, stepping over the threshold as Sharon’s seemingly exuberant son bid him welcome with a lopsided grin and crinkled eyes. Andy quickly kicked his shoes off before he followed the bouncy stride of Ricky Raydor, dropping his overnight bag by the sofa.
Andy watched the kid with a headshake and a curving smile, neatly folding his black leather jacket across the back of the sofa.
“Kick back - relax,” Ricky said in a cheerful manner, the boy high-spirited.
“Sure thing,” Andy grunted back, a raised eyebrow that swept right past the boy’s attention.
Andy wondered where Sharon was and if she was aware of the fact that her whole apartment smelled like a concoction of sugar and something spicy, the scent heavy in the air the closer he deviated toward the kitchen.
The kid turned around to regard Andy at the entrance to the kitchen, both of his hands on his hips, “She will be so pleased to see you, you know,” the boy paused and then gave a too casual shrug, “well once she gets over the surprise of a guest, that is. Then she will be pleased, you know in that equivocal way of hers.”
Andy furrowed his brow, “She doesn’t know you invited me, Ricky?”
What was it with Sharon and her sneaky offspring? It must be some genetic trait for sure Andy thought with a headshake, the last time her daughter had been in town the little rascal had made sure Andy was free to accompany her mother to New York to see one of her shows. And Ricky, well, Ricky was Ricky.
The kid smiled deviously, “Nah - we are gonna spring it on her. A little Christmas surprise, you know, or miracle,” the boy laughed, “or something.”
Andy cynically quipped, “Yeah, Sharon Raydor loves surprises.”
Ricky laughed again, the sound rich.
Andy chuckled, the sound more subdued.
“It’s a smart thing,” the kid said as he disappeared into the kitchen, the volume of his voice turning up, “this way she won’t have to sneak off into her bedroom to call you. Heck, you can do, you know bed stuff. I came prepared - with earplugs.”
This time Andy laughed out loud.
“Little shit,” he commented in a wry tone and then followed the boy. When he rounded the corner into the kitchen his eyebrows quirked even higher and he couldn’t help but blurt, “Damn kiddo. That’s a right mess if I’ve ever seen one.”
Ricky’s smile only widened. The boy was no doubt overly satisfied with his accomplishment; the remains of Sharon’s otherwise pristine kitchen lay in shambles, altogether disorganized and chaotic. There wasn’t one single clean spot on her kitchen counter, Andy reflected, and appliances and tools lay haphazardly here and there, waiting either to be used or to be cleaned. Sharon always made it a poignant point to clean up simultaneously when she worked in her kitchen - and Andy’s kitchen too - whereas her lovely offspring seemed to have made it his sole purpose to not clean anything at all.
“Oh, don’t worry. I will clean it up at some point,” Ricky told him when Andy continued to look around with disbelief that was hurriedly turning into an itch to clean the mess.
“So, where is your mother? Soaking in the bathtub, blissfully ignorant about your shenanigans I hope?”
“She went grocery shopping,” the kid told him with a curved mouth, “even though she is well aware that the fridge is fully stocked.”
Andy hummed in response and pushed aside a bowl with a sieve in it, fresh raspberries lying in it so he could lean on the counter with an elbow, amused as he watched the kid joggling everything.
Andy snuck two fingers out and took one raspberry when Ricky’s back was turned, the kid checking on whatever he had put in the oven. Ricky spun around again and then took the dough he had in one big bowl and started rolling it out in a long roll on the counter.
Andy was of a half mind to remind the kid to clean the surface before rolling the dough out - but then thought better of correcting what really wasn’t his own child. Instead he silently watched the flour that whirled up from the surface of the counter and then settled again, some of it easily flying over the edge and landing somewhere on the floor. Oh, Sharon would have a fit he thought with a grin; she was such a neat freak.
“Hey,” Ricky suddenly stopped his motions and then with sticky dough fingers presented Andy with a piece of the dough, “does this need more cinnamon? I wasn’t sure - and well, I could barely make out the scrawl on the recipe, so - what do you think?”
Andy made a show out of deliberately giving the chunk of dough a suspicious look, smiling when the kid blew out an exasperated exhalation, “Well, c’mon, uncle Flynn.”
Andy grimaced at the nickname and quickly took the sugar concoction. He took a bite and then shrugged, “Nah, it’s fine.”
“Great,” Ricky laughed, “I was hoping to be able to get these done by the time she comes back. Maybe a cookie will cheer her up.”
“So, why in the world did she go grocery shopping when you are fully stocked anyway?” Andy asked and then quickly commented in a dry voice, “Not that I can blame her - did she take one look at you in her kitchen and decide it was better to remove herself?”
Ricky chuckled cheerfully, “No, no. I only started on this whole mess after she left.” The kid paused, features turning pensive, “She got a call from Jackson. It’s an old tactic, I guess. An escape plan of sorts. I figured it out years ago - my father would call or send some idiotic postcard and she would hurry off to do something, you know, keeping busy.”
“So, you decided to desecrate her kitchen in the mean time?”
“I’m baking Christmas cookies for her,” the kid told him, “and dinner - because well, we’ve gotta eat.”
Andy looked at all the different foods on display in the kitchen, “Right - then on all accounts what are everything else? Because it looks to be the beginnings of a feast able to dine at least a dozen people.”
“Rolls for tomorrow,” the kid shrugged as he pointed at the oven as if it was an everyday occurrence to be in the middle of making dishes to last a lifetime, “and well, I needed caffeine so I had to grind beans - and I wanted to try out this new vinegar. Self-made, you see, with rosehip petals.”
Andy chortled, “Rosehip petals, what are you - a fancy gourmet now.”
Ricky simply smiled, “It was mom’s idea.”
“Of course it was,” Andy shook his head, trying to imagine the fearsome Captain Raydor tripping around somewhere plucking off petals.
Andy pointed to his left, “And the sliced carrots, hmm?” he paused and then with a headshake, “Is that hummus?”
“The coffee made me hungry and seeing the woman I call mother conveniently forgot to tell me where she stocks her candy I made do with her vegetables,” the boy tsk’ed, “Can you believe it, she completely changed her hiding place on me. She used to keep all her nice stuff, foreign chocolate and whatnots, in the back of her closet - but oh no, it’s changed.”
Andy grinned wide, “Well, whaddaya need kiddo? Chocolate? Twizzlers?”
Ricky crossed his arms in disbelief, “Sharon Raydor showed you her secret hiding place for her stash of fancy candy? Seriously! No way.”
“Yes way,” Andy replied shaking his head in amusement.
The kid bounced in place, “Oh, please tell me.”
“Are you gonna raid it?”
“Naturally,” the kid replied with a smile that went from ear to ear.
Andy shrugged, “Okay then,” he made a motion with his finger, beckoning the kid to follow him into the living room and her work desk. They crouched by her desk and Andy enjoyed the positively gleeful look on the kid’s face.
Sharon chose that moment to come through the front door, aloof in a pair of sun glasses and a shopping bag in one hand and her keys in the other.
She stopped short at the sight of Andy and Ricky kneeling by her desk, hands on the bottom drawer.
“You better remove your hands and back away from my desk this very instant,” she told them in a dry tone, “especially if you wish to keep any of your fingers intact.”
Andy and Ricky quickly straightened, both trying to not break out in laughter.
Sharon turned around and deposited her keys, her heels being kicked off rather uncharacteristically before she swiftly made her way to the kitchen.
Andy watched Ricky trying to adopt an innocent expression as they followed his mother into the kitchen.
She seemed too unfazed by the mess but then maybe she was used to her son’s messy attitude when it came to cooking.
With a little headshake she made a quick turn and instead put up her shopping bag up on the living room table.
“So, lieutenant Flynn,” Sharon said as she started unpacking the bag, bringing up a bottle of red wine, a little pot with fresh herbs and a nice packet of French nougat, “I see you’ve invaded my home.”
Andy feigned a serious expression, “Yeah, I got a warrant to search the premises and everything, Captain.”
Sharon only quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Uh, watch out,” Ricky piped up, “the queen is not amused.”
Sharon turned her eyebrow at her son instead but he was quick to start rolling his dough again, pretending not to see her look of warning.
Andy shrugged and made a jerk toward Ricky, “Your devil spawn over there invited me, Captain.”
Ricky sniggered until Sharon glared fully at him. He looked sufficiently chastised and bent his head - it was only for show however, the moment Sharon turned her head back to Andy the kid looked smug once again, doing an eye roll for Andy’s benefit.
Sharon smiled at him, the expression not entirely cheerful when he couldn’t see her eyes behind the sun glasses, “You are welcome to stay, yes.”
“Mighty good of you,” Andy chuckled.
She shook her head with a wry smile, and then quickly reached out to grab the wine bottle.
“Don’t mind me,” Andy leaned in and whispered, “if you want a glass, have one.”
She shrugged, “I’ll save it for later.”
Andy gave her a gentle smile and then followed her movements with his eyes. She went to put the bottle away, her sun glasses finally coming off. She shook her head at Ricky before they shared a smile.
“I’m going to,” she looked at the both of them, expression hard to decipher, “take a shower.”
Ricky nodded, “Dinner will be ready in,” he looked at the wrist watch he had left on the counter full of flour and some other unspecified substance, “hmm, approximately half an hour, I guess.”
“Thank you honey,” Sharon smiled and drew her son into a one-armed hug before she started in the direction of her bedroom.
Andy saluted the kid, “Happy cooking,” and then he followed Sharon, closing her bedroom door behind him with a resounding click.
Sharon spun around and regarded him with a little scrutinizing look.
“If you want me to go, I’ll go - no hurt feelings or anything.”
She shook her head, her head tilting from side to side as her hand went to the back of her neck.
“You sure you don’t mind me being here?” Andy asked again, surprised when she went willingly into his outstretched arms and returned the embrace with a tight grip, her head turning so she could rest one cheek against his chest.
“Not at all,” she replied, her voice muffled and low, “I want you to stay but I thought you were spending today with your family.”
Andy kissed the top of her head, “Plans were cancelled.”
“Oh,” she looked up, “nothing serious?”
Andy shook his head, “No, no - just the ex making a fuss about everything. I’ll drive by everyone tomorrow and give them their presents. That way the kids don’t have to listen to their parent’s squabbling about the past. Christmas shouldn’t be bitter you know.”
Sharon smiled, and then stood up on tiptoe to plant a warm kiss on his lips.
Andy returned the kiss.
“So, Ricky said Jack called?”
“He wanted to wish me a Merry Christmas and then went down memory lane, only to end up enquiring about loaning money.”
Andy shook his head, “Jackass.”
Sharon laughed, “Yes, he is.”
“You know what?” Andy told her, watching as she leaned against his chest, her arms tightening around him once again.
“No,” she mumbled.
“I know we agreed to no presents this year but -, ” Andy started and watched as Sharon leaned back from his embrace and gave him an aloof look, “but I found a little thing, and it reminded me of you. So I bought it and wrapped it and everything.”
Her lips twitched, “Did you now.”
Andy nodded, his mouth apart in a big grin, “Yeah.”
Her mouth curved into a full crescent, “I bought you something too, honey.” The confession left the smile even more radiant, beckoning him forward. So naturally Andy leaned down and captured her lips again, the kiss more heated this time, more pressure and energy.
His hands sneaked under her t-shirt, lifting the garment so he could let his fingers travel up and down the bare skin of her stomach.
“Your son is as sneaky as they come, huh,” he commented to her when they shared breath, lips touching.
“He is a sweetheart is what he is,” she returned with a crooked smile and a gleam in her eyes, her head tilted back so they could look at each other, “too tuned into his mother and her mood swings.”
“You raised him well,” Andy told her, a note of pride in his voice.
She smiled self-consciously.
Andy splayed his hands on her back, keeping her close as he kissed her again. The gravity of it seemed heavy, almost euphoric.
Her lips were decidedly redder afterwards and there was a peculiar look in her eyes he ascribed to feeling overwhelmed.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, quick to kiss them again, quick to make sure she really understood it.
“Now, you better hurry up,” he slapped her ass teasingly, “or that shower won’t be over before dinner, huh.”
She put her hands on her hips, one eyebrow lifting.
Andy simply smiled, “Go on - we have all night, right.”
She looked down as a little blush started creeping across her cheeks.
Andy leaned in, “Maybe my present is something to be used after dark.”
She looked up with a jerk, still blushing, “Oh you - ,”
Andy gave her another swat on her bottom and watched her stalk to the closed bedroom door, giving him a narrowed look over her shoulder. She opened the door and he watched her go in the direction of the bathroom.
Andy smiled to himself and then went to the kitchen.
Ricky was in the middle of putting the sliced dough on baking paper, a carrot in his mouth and a concentrated look.
“Hey, did you know your mother owns a bean bag gun?”
“What! Seriously?”
Andy laughed.
…
=)