Wanted For Pleasure: vol 2

Chapter 69: Thanks for giving I

"Generations pass like leaves fall from our family tree. Each season new life blossoms and grows benefiting from the strength and experience of those who went before."

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𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔

"Easy, no-fuss Thanksgiving turkey." I read the online article.

Seems simple enough, I think in my head before scrolling to read further.

"Alright," I rub my hands together. "Gobble-gobble, turkey."

Step one, I begin to read in my head. Blah, blah, blah. Boring, boring, boring- wait.

"Cook time, three hours? The hell." I scratch my head.

Well, three hours is three too many. I look at the time on my Rolex and see it's almost four, our guests will be arriving soon. Shit.

Duke, my dog, stares up at me and whimpers.

"Calm down, you weren't gettin' any, anyway." I talk at him.

"Hey, baby." Morgan's voice strains as she walks up the last few steps.

With a groan, she drops the bags all along her arm, onto the round table.

She lets out a relieved "phew" and pets the dogs before washing her hands.

I'm too busy reading over another quick, easy turkey recipe to greet her properly, settling for her lips brushing against the stubble on my face.

Morgan stays on her tiptoes, leaning on the kitchen counter, to ask what am I doing exactly.

"I completely fucked up," I pause to vibrate my lips. "So unless you know how to cook a turkey in less than an hour... dinner's ruined."

"So dramatic." Morgan says under her breath.

She drops back onto her flat feet and stares at the gaping hole in the raw turkey.
"She must've been popular." Morgan jokes.

I smack my lips. "Babe, there's no turkey." I stress.

"Who cares?" She stops setting the table to flail her arms at me.

I throw a baby carrot at her and slightly raise my voice. "I do!"

"You don't have to cry about it." She says calmly, picking the carrot off of the hardwood floor to throw away.

The sigh that leaves my mouth is an aggravated one. "It's the one thing you need for a Thanksgiving dinner, and I fucked it up."

"You didn't fuck it up, Chris, it's not even cooked, yet. Why? Because you wanted to pLaY tHe gAmE all morning and wait until the last minute. I told you how long it takes to cook, I gave you your mother's recipe and everything, but did you listen to me? No." She goes on, poking me in the chest.

I push her hand away and exhale through my nose.

"It's not that serious, babe. I told you, we can just go to a restaurant, or something, I'm sure our parents won't mind."