Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams (13 page)

Bonus.

The bigger bonus was, even in the frigid
temperatures, evidently chopping wood was hard work because Frey
took off his sweater to do it and he did it at a stump that was
clearly visible from the kitchen windows.

Watching this, I could see why my husband
was seriously buff.

Watching this, I could also get distracted
from cooking (and did).

So I stopped watching.

I went all out, using the china, silver and
crystal in my trunks for the first time. It looked kinda silly on a
farm table but this was our first dinner as husband and wife, this
was our first dinner ever (for me) and this was our
pre-consummation dinner so I wanted to make it an occasion and
nothing said occasion like delicate china, heavy silver and elegant
crystal, even in a rustic cabin.

So I used it.

I roasted a piece of beef, somehow pulled
off potatoes dauphenois and boiled green beans which I was serving
with fresh bread from the bakery and, after, my homemade pecan pie
with cream for dessert. I called out to Frey at his stump (by this
time, the sun was long gone so he was chopping in the totally
frigid, totally dark evening and doing it by torchlight) twenty
minutes before I reckoned it would be done, he quit ten minutes
later and came to the table washed.

That was good.

He sat at the table and scooped out food on
his plate without really noticing (and definitely not commenting
on) the obvious effort I’d made.

That was bad.

When he was about to commence eating, I
asked quietly, “Can you open the wine?”

That was when he looked at me, he looked at
the table, half of his mouth hitched up for a millisecond then he
got up and opened the wine we bought in town. Then he poured it.
Then he sat down and commenced eating.

I started eating too and was pretty pleased
with the results. The potatoes were burnt a little on the top but
the roast was done to perfection, nice and brown on the outside,
nice and pink on the inside.

Frey made light work of it and, even after
tasting it, didn’t say a word.

This was bad too.

Or, perhaps, chopping wood gave you an
appetite.

I decided to think of it that way.

He had refilled his glass of wine (and
topped up mine) and was reaching for seconds when I decided
conversation was in order.

And I also decided what we were talking
about.

And I’d also spent a great deal of time
while baking and cooking deciding
how
I was going to talk about it.

“Uh… Frey?” I called.

He showed me he’d heard and was listening by
looking at me.

“Can we talk about something important?” I
asked.

He stopped cutting into a slice of meat and
gave me his full attention. “And what’s important to you,
wife?”

“Um…” I started and stopped.

Frey put his silverware on his plate and
aimed a minor scowl at me. It wasn’t terrifying but it wasn’t his
best look either.

“
I have manhandled you,” he made this
surprising and maybe a little weird admission then went on to
explain why he did it, “but I have never hurt you. This…” he
paused, “
hesitancy
in
speaking to me has not been earned.”

Well, it was interesting he thought that,
but…

“And,” he continued, “it’s beginning to be
trying.”

“I –” I started but he kept talking.

“
Indeed, what you said this morning, I will
agree with for it is visibly obvious. I
am
a big man and you are
not
a big woman. But I have never given you cause to
think I’d do you harm.”

That was interesting he thought that too.
And not entirely true.

“So,” he concluded, “it would please me
greatly if you would stop with your ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’ and just say
what’s on your mind.”

“
Okay,” I returned swiftly, mainly because,
after having spent hours cooking, making dessert and setting it all
out nicely, as well as deliberating on how I was going to say what
I needed to say, only for him to hijack the conversation and be a
dick about it, I was suddenly
wicked
ticked off. “What
was
on
my mind was that I was going to tell you I liked you.”

Frey did a slow blink, showing surprise, but
I didn’t care. That was just how wicked ticked off I was.

“Now,” I carried on, “I’m thinking… not so
much.”

“
Finnie –” he started but this time,
I
cut
him
off.

And I did it by throwing out my hand holding
my fork then going right back to cutting my beef (though I did it
this time more like hacking) all the while talking.

“
You have my leave to call me Sjofn. I’m
thinking, now, I prefer
that
from you, a man who tosses me around and leaves me in a
filthy house after driving ever onward through the freezing cold
countryside,” I speared my meat with my fork at the same time I
speared him with a look, “
for hours
. Then taking off without even helping me with my
four,
” I jabbed
my fork with meat in his direction, “
very tired
horses. A man who made it clear he didn’t like me
much, considering our wedding night I spent
alone
and he was off
at sea,
missing, I might add, some really freaking
fantastic underwear
.
” He did
another slow blink but I kept right on going. “So if I’m a little
hesitant with that man, I beg your pardon. I’ll endeavor not to be
so in future.”

Then I chomped down on the meat on my fork,
yanked it off and started chewing.

Frey didn’t reply and I looked anywhere but
him as I continued to saw into my meat, fork into my potatoes with
far more vigor than needed and suck down healthy gulps of wine.

The instant I’d cleaned my plate (which was
about three minutes later considering I wolfed down the remainder
of my food), I jumped up, snatching it as I went while asking, “Are
you done? Do you want pie?”

Then I didn’t wait for his answer as I
dumped my (probably priceless or at least, by the looks of it,
exorbitantly expensive) china in the wood sink and then going back
to grab the serving bowls.

“Finnie,” he said softly, I turned my eyes
to him and held up the bowl of green beans.

“Would you like to finish these off or do
you want to move onto pie?”

“Put down the bowl,” he ordered.

I did as he ordered but did it after walking
back to the sink. I had cleared the meat and potatoes and was going
back for his plate when suddenly two big hands closed around my
hips and I was sitting in his lap.

I put my hands on his chest and tried to
push up at the same time crying out, “Hey!” but I got nowhere
because his arms had locked around me.

I stopped struggling as it was undignified
and my Mom taught me no matter what pickle you were in, never lose
your dignity and instead I raised my eyes to glare at him and
demand, “Let me up.”

“No, my new wife, take a moment, take a
breath, calm yourself and let us go back to what you wished to
discuss ten minutes ago.”

“I don’t want to go back there,” I
returned.

“Take a moment, take a breath, calm yourself
and maybe you will,” he suggested.

I shook my head. “Nope, I know myself pretty
well and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to go back there.”

He grinned, it was a good one, I had
rarely seen him do that, in fact, I wasn’t certain I had
ever
seen him out and out grin, it
wasn’t lost on me that it looked good on him but I was still too
pissed to care before he said, “It would seem, Finnie, you have no
problems with ‘ums’ and ‘uhs’ when you’re vexed.”

“Yes, it would seem that way,” I agreed then
asked, “Do you want pie?”

“Yes, I do but not now. Now, I want you to
calm yourself and then I’d like to listen to what you had to
say.”

I glared at him. Then I guessed, “You’re not
going to let me get up until you hear what I had to say, are
you?”

Another grin. It was again good. It was
again not lost on me. And I was still too pissed to care.

“No, I’m not,” he confirmed my guess was
accurate.

“
Fine,” I snapped, shifting my booty to
settle in his lap and crossing my arms on my chest, I looked right
into his green-brown eyes and stated, “Waking up this morning, I
liked you. To be totally honest, I liked you last night,
not
when you were being a
jerk
at the
pub
but when you came
home
and you were being kinda
sweet
. I liked you more when I woke up and you’d proved you
could be thoughtful. And I liked you more throughout the day
because, well, you aren’t exactly Mr. Conversation but at least we
could have conversations without you freaking me out or pissing me
off which I thought was a plus considering we
are
married and having conversations that don’t freak
me out or piss me off for decades upon decades would
not
be a good thing. You also
demonstrated you could be sweet again in town and it must be said
I’m glad you carried in logs because that isn’t what I call fun and
it’s nice to share the load. With all that and the way you kissed
me after we got married, which I liked, a
whole
lot, and the way you were at the market today, I
was thinking maybe tonight might be good. And I was thinking that I
wanted to talk to you about that and how, maybe, if I kept liking
you and maybe started liking you more and if I
really
liked tonight, it might be nice if we had
that for awhile, just the two of us and ask if you’d help me with
that. But now I’ve changed my mind. I
don’t
like you because you have again been a
jerk
, I’m
reneging on the deal and there won’t
be
a tonight. You’ll get pie, I’ll do the dishes and if you
won’t let me have the bed then I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He had no reply, he just stared at me.

So I concluded, “So that’s it. That was
what I was going to say. I’ve said it.
Now
will you let me up?”

“No,” he replied and I rolled my eyes to the
ceiling and muttered, “Great.”

“Finnie,” he called and I rolled my eyes
back to him and glared. He pressed his lips together and I’d never
seen him do that so I didn’t know what that meant but I didn’t care
about that either.

Then he spoke again.

“You enjoyed my kiss at the Dwelling of the
Gods?”

“
Uh…
yeah,
”
I said like I’d say, “uh…
duh
”.
“Frey, I’d wrapped my arms around you. You’re a jerk but you can
kiss.”

Another lip press and then, “Explain what
you mean about me helping you with us having what we have tonight
just the two of us for awhile. It is my understanding, unless you
are unusually broad-minded, what I have planned for tonight
is
always
just the
two of us.”

Yeesh. Men. Their minds, no matter what
world they live in, always wandered down the same paths.

“
I’m not talking about a threesome,
Frey,
I’m talking about
children.
As in, I don’t
know
you but I was thinking that I
was really liking
getting to know you
and that when that extra
component
was
added
,
you were giving all the signs I would really like
that too.
So, I thought, if I did really
like all of that, I’d like to have all of that with you for awhile,
just the two of us before we start thinking of daughters and sons
and who’s going to teach who swordplay and all that
jazz.”

I felt the pads of his fingers dig into my
hip and noticed his eyes had gone weird but I didn’t pay much
attention to that either.

Then he asked, “You wish to delay providing
your father with an heir?”

“
Not
forever
. Not even for very long. A few months, enough time I could
learn about you, you could learn about me, we could learn about…
uh… how we are together and maybe I could ride on your
ship.”

Another slow blink then, “Ride on my
ship?”

“Or, take a trip on it or whatever you call
it. I mean, you know, go voyaging with you. That might not be so
much fun pregnant and if I have a kid, I’d have to stay home while
off you go on your adventures and that would suck. I was thinking
maybe we can squeeze in an adventure or two and then we can have
sons and daughters and provide heirs to the kingdom and all that
stuff. It’s not like I’ll be this age forever and it won’t be as
much fun when I’m old and decrepit and struggling along with my
cane only to slip on a deck one of your men are swabbing and break
a hip.”

He did yet
another
slow blink.

Then he threw back his head and burst out
laughing.

I stared because, first, I didn’t know the
man
could
laugh.
Second, I was staring at his throat which I’d already noted was a
nice view. And third, he had a great laugh.