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Gobble, Gobble?Grumble, Grumble
by Starla Kaye

Category: Erotica/Fetish Erotica/Romance
Description: Gobble, Gobble?Grumble, Grumble is one of 10 short stories in the Her Cowboy's Way anthology from Black Velvet Seductions. "It's just a family meal" Colby had said. Was he nuts? It's the first meal she was making for his family since they'd gotten married. She was a crazy woman and getting crazier by the second. Everything has to be perfect. Colby doesn't like seeing her this way, doesn't like worrying about her. She needs to get her act together or risk his taking her in hand to help calm her down.
eBook Publisher: Black Velvet Seductions Publishing Company, 2010 2011
eBookwise Release Date: August 2012

eBookeBook

Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [35 KB]
Words: 6595
Reading time: 18-26 min.


Gobble, Gobble...Grumble, Grumble

In yet another moment of brilliance, Brandi draped the handles of ten plastic grocery bags over her arms and then realized she couldn't close the trunk of her Mustang. She glared at the trunk lid as if it would magically decide to lower on its own. It didn't, of course. And now her arms felt like they were being torn from her shoulders. Things just got better and better. Especially when you were in a hurry, when you were expecting your husband's family for a big holiday meal the next day.

"Need some help?" Colby yelled from the middle of the ranch yard.

She considered yelling out "Duh!" but had a flash of sanity and instead yelled, "As in immediately? Yes!" One of the bags started to slip off her arm. She jerked her arm upward to regain control of the problem bag and groaned. Pain shot from wrist to elbow. If she could even lift her arms after this is it would be a miracle.

Moving faster than she'd ever seen him before, Colby was at her side before she could take a step away from the car. He closed the trunk and grabbed half the bags from each of her arms. "You could make more than one trip, you know."

"I don't have time for more than one trip." She edged around him and hurried to the door connecting the garage to the kitchen. Her arms hurt, her feet hurt, and time was whizzing by. "I'm already running behind schedule."

He opened the door for her and followed her inside. As they both set their burdens on the counter, he looked at her in confusion. "What schedule?"

Brandi rolled her eyes at the slow-witted husband she loved so much. "Thanksgiving. Tomorrow. A gazillion things to do. I made an intricate schedule, and I've already screwed it up."

"It's just a family meal." He started pulling items out of the bags. "No big deal."

"Just a family meal?" She gaped at him. "It's the first meal I'm making for your family since we got married. It is a big meal. Thanksgiving dinner."

He set several cans of yams down, his brow furrowed in confusion. "They won't be expecting anything fancy."

She counted to ten, twenty, thirty. Then she bopped him on the arm with a package of rolls. "Okay. What did your mother usually cook for Thanksgiving dinner?"

Colby frowned in disapproval at being hit with the rolls. He leaned a hip against the counter and looked thoughtful. " Well...turkey, of course, with stuffing. Baked yams with marshmallows. Only way I like those things."

He rubbed his beard-stubbled chin. "Mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, usually corn, too. Plus there was generally cranberry sauce, a couple of kinds of salad."

He nodded at the package of rolls beside his elbow now. "Rolls, sometimes cornbread as well." He smiled, a look of pure bliss sparkling in his eyes. "Pecan pie, pumpkin pie, and apple cobbler."

For a second her shoulders slumped. She had most of that on her menu, didn't she? Yes. Yes, she did. She'd written it down when she'd pinned him about this a month ago. She wanted this meal to be perfect, but at the moment she would be satisfied with 'pretty good.'

Irritated, she planted her hands on her hips. "Maybe you don't consider any of that fancy, but that's a hell of a lot of stuff to prepare." Especially for one meal that lasted maybe an hour, more likely a half hour.

"We don't need all of that." Even as he said the words, though, she heard the wistfulness in his tone. He wanted all of that.

"I am not disappointing your family by serving them a half-ass Thanksgiving dinner." No way was she going to settle for being low in her mother-in-law's opinion of how worthy she was to have married her precious son. His brother's wife had already claimed status of 'saint.'

She went back to emptying the bags, tossing out a head of lettuce, stalks of celery, a bag of carrots. Had she forgotten the salad dressings? A second of panic shot through her until she breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out four different bottles of dressings from one of the bags.

When she glanced up, her husband was still standing there, looking puzzled by her obsession with searching the bags for necessary items. She did not need a distraction. "Go away. Go back to your chores and leave me be. I don't have time for chit-chat."

Stubborn man that he was, he ignored her order to leave. He simply turned, snagged the jug of milk, carton of eggs, and tub of butter and carried them to the refrigerator. "You're getting a bit testy, darlin'. We talked about this just the other day. All I want is for this to be a nice holiday get-together with my family. I don't want you getting all crazy because of it. I worry about you."

"I'm not getting crazy, maybe a little testy, but I've had a bad couple of days." She had worked out a detailed schedule of when to prepare the various menu items. Like the pies, which she'd meant to make yesterday. "Everything would be just fine, if I hadn't had that client with an accounting emergency yesterday." Now she was behind schedule. And feeling a bit frazzled.

"I can help." He walked back over to grab the frozen corn and green beans from where she'd set them on the counter. "Just tell me what I can do."

Stressed or not, when he gave her that crooked grin and stood there looking so damn hot, she wanted to forget everything but him. She wanted to take her handsome cowboy straight to the floor. She wanted... "No! No, no, no! I do not have time for dealing with you."

His thick eyebrows pinched together. "What are you talking about? Dealing with me? I only offered to help." He studied her and then slowly grinned. "Oh, that kind of 'dealing with me.'"

She so didn't need this right now. "Forget it. That isn't happening. What I really need from you is for you to stay the hell out of my way. Go deal with ranch things or whatever. Let me handle the dinner preparations. Alone. Blessedly alone."

His lips pinched in displeasure. "I don't like this, Brandi Lynn. I can feel the problems coming on. Remember what happened when we had that Fourth of July barbecue?"

She stiffened her shoulders, annoyed that he'd brought up that incident. "I remember."

The simple answer wasn't enough. He held her gaze. "What happened that day?"

With a sigh, she admitted, "I got a little carried away with food preparations." She raised her chin. "But it was our first big party with the neighbors."

"You went crazy with it all. You refused to let any of the others bring food, even though they all offered." He looked at her squarely. "What else happened that day?"

Her buttocks clenched in memory. "I got spanked," she said in a frustrated whisper.

"You got spanked and..."

"Okay! I got paddled, too. Happy now?" She well remembered the incident, not a bit pleasant. Okay, he was right, she'd gotten seriously crazy. She should have accepted help with the food. She wasn't Superwoman, although sometimes she had real trouble remembering that.

His expression darkened. "This is fair warning, Brandi Lynn, that if you get crankier, there'll be a spanking in your near future. Understand?"

"Yes, I understand." She was done with this conversation.

Just go away now. Please.

His big shoulders slumped and he sighed. "I don't like even talking about spanking you. But I will, if it's necessary. So, please, darlin', calm down. We can feed them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for all I care."

Brandi sniffed back a tear of stress. "But I care. This is important, to me." What she needed was a hug. Just one simple hug and she could pull it together again.

As if he'd read her thoughts, Colby walked across the room and pulled her into his arms. The warmth of his big body felt so good surrounding her. The familiar scent of outdoors, leather, and pure man smelled so good. She melted into him and allowed herself a minute of comfort. It would be so nice to just let him take her upstairs, let him spend a few hours--or all day--taking her mind off everything. And he could do that so very, very nicely. She sighed.

He held her close, his heart beating against her chest. His cock hardened between them. When he rubbed against her and her body came alive in response, she knew it was time to stop this.

Fighting her body's desire for him, she eased away and gave him a weak smile. "Thanks, I needed that."

"Me, too." He touched the side of her face with a calloused hand. "Are you going to calm down now?"

She bobbed her head. "I'll try, but there's still a lot to be done."

He started to say something, probably another warning, but instead he just nodded and left the house.


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