Cooking Up A Storm - A Norman Reedus Fanfic Romance

Chapter 38 - Calculated Whisk

BENNY

Norman Reedus hereby declares eleven AM Saturday as 'fuck this shit'  o'clock!

That's when he spat the dummy spectacularly. Before storming inside to finally send out an SOS  for assistance.

While he was on the phone I took the opportunity to sneak out back. Retrieve a chair leg from the side gutter and a wrench from where it hit Lucius Augustine Haywood.

Sorry....poor Lucius's headstone to be more precise.

I had to give him his due, he only took two hours to put the huge BBQ together. Though his cuss vocabulary throughout that construction was loud and incredibly educational, to say the least.

This little black duck stayed in the kitchen the whole time. Prepping food for tomorrow and keeping my mouth tightly shut....despite my DIY prowess.

I may be silly sometimes? But I sure as heck ain't stupid. Throwing flatpack furniture into a relationship too soon is a surefire recipe for disaster.

One that I don't want to be an ingredient of.

*

The cavalry arrived shortly afterwards in the form of Greg. The dangling carrot luring him in?

Norman's promise of my now famous potato cakes for lunch.

Shame my darling handyman neglected to mention such to yours truly, huh?

I only found out when Greg strode in through my front door. Brandishing two huge loaves of fresh bread and a hefty bag of potatoes.

Is this guy hungry or what?

"Hello, gorgeous girl! I've missed your smiling face and cooking. What luck....getting fed by you two days in a row. Here you go, old son. Fixings as per orders."

He handed over the supplies to Norman before scooping me up in his arms.

"So! Our little Jelly Bean finally lost her marbles and made it official with this silly bugger, eh? Well you lasted longer than we all thought you would, sweetheart. I got lucky with the first wager, though I think Carrie might've scooped the latest pool?"

Wager? Not again....  😖

Turns out, it's nothing like I immediately thought. Still....I reckon you could've heard my shocked intake of breath clear to the West Coast.

Norman must've thought the worst too. He gaped at me in horror before heading my way. Shaking his head as his hands waved helplessly in front of him.

"Swear to God, Ben....this is the first I've heard of it as well. Care to explain, pal?"

His look spoke volumes. As if he's afraid I'll make assumptions about his complicity....and maybe go postal?

Greg passed on the gold-plated opportunity to make Norman squirm a bit. Such incredible self-control....I watch the fight with his conscience play out on his face.

"Awwww  he's telling the truth, lovely. Kept his mouth shut tight about the two of you....which is an absolute first. But to everyone else? It was as plain as the noses on your faces."

"And the outcome was just as inevitable....like Norm's faceplants."

"Ummmm, Greg? Wwwwhat do you mean by....everyone....wager?"  The words stutter out of my mouth because it's drying up.

"Everyone!"  His arms wave around expansively as if encompassing the whole world.

"We all put ten bucks each into the kitty on how long it'd take for the both of you to get your asses in sync. I got it bang on....staff Christmas party."