Sinfully Delicious Saturday: From Babber into my Heart a Pet Play Romance

 

Babber into my Heart can be found here!

“I–I” Bastian stammered, stunned into inaction. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect anyone to be using this spot this early. I’ll just get out of here and leave you to your meal. Sorry to come crashing in on you, again.”

“Well, in this case, your presence was not only expected, it was anxiously anticipated,” Jarrod admitted, leaving Bastian frowning and a bit confused.

“You were waiting for me? Why?”

“Because our conversation yesterday got interrupted and I didn’t want to miss out on another opportunity to talk to you,” Jarrod admitted. “For the past few mornings I’ve watched you running beneath my window, but when I tried to catch up with you yesterday, I got up too late. Running into you in the elevator was just pure, dumb luck, but it didn’t last nearly long enough, so I figured I’d set up on the most likely spot on the trail and hope you showed up.”

“And what would you have done if I hadn’t?”

“Picked another spot again tomorrow and tried again.”

“Oh.”

“That…probably sounded way more stalkerish than I intended,” Jarrod admitted, the look on his face more grimace than smile.

There was a faint blush there too, which Bastian found endearing, if only because the man was supposed to be a Master and a trainer and yet here he sat, looking slightly uncomfortable talking to him. It was enough to make Bastian feel powerful and desired. After all, it wasn’t every day that someone went this far out of their way to do something special just for him.

“I tried to pick a spot far enough away from the lodge that you wouldn’t be cutting your run too short by joining me,” Jarrod said, appearing hopeful. “I hope I didn’t underestimate.”

“No, I um, this was the end of my run, actually. The trail is much too long to make a full circuit, at least, not with the speed and vigor I tend to run it.”

“That’s what I guessed, but you know how assumptions work, half the time you get bit in the ass by them.”

“Well, this was definitely one time when you didn’t.”

“Does that mean you’ll join me?”

“Yeah, I’d umm, like that. I can’t remember the last time I was on a picnic.”

“Then by all means, have a seat,” Jarrod said, gesturing to the empty spot across from him. “I wasn’t sure what all you might like, so I brought a bit of everything, though, nothing too heavy. I figured, if you were anything like me, you wouldn’t want to overload on carbs after a run so it’s mostly just fruit, some boiled eggs, bacon, and a couple chocolate chip muffins.”

As he spoke, he removed the lids from each of the containers, revealing a bounty of fresh fruit that left Bastian’s mouth watering. “Holy shit that looks good.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“Oh my god, I more than approve, is that honeydew?”

“Yup.”

“It’s my favorite.”

“Good to know,” Jarrod said as he nudged the container towards him until Bastian got the hint and took a piece. It damn near melted in his mouth, juicy, sweet, with all the rich, melony flavor the fruit was known for. There was nothing more disappointing than biting into a piece that was under-ripe and tasted like water, or worse, nothing at all. This one was perfect. Before he could stop himself, Bastian let out an obscene moan, and reached for another piece, licking the dripping juice off his fingers and sucking them for good measure.

“Damn.”

His eyes popped open to see Jarrod watching him, a strawberry poised between his fingers, halfway to his mouth. He seemed to have forgotten about it though, as he stared at Bastian’s unintended show. Shrugging, Bastian couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed, the melon was too good, and it had been months since he’d had one, so he plucked another piece and ate it a bit less messily, though not by much.

“I guess I picked a good one,” Jarrod said as Bastian sat the carton back down.

As tempting as it was to keep on eating, he didn’t want to be rude and hog all the pieces, especially when there was so much more fruit to sample.

“Ohhh yeah. It’s always hit or miss when I choose one,” Bastian admitted. “I’ve thumped my way through a stack of them and left thinking I got a good one, only to cut into it and discover it really wasn’t ready yet.”

“See, now that’s where you went about it wrong,” Jarrod said, taking a piece for himself while Bastian tried the cantaloupe. Like the honeydew it was perfect, cold too, and just firm enough that the flavors burst against his tongue.

“How do you mean?”

“Thumping works for watermelon, but on some of the other melons, it’s better to pick them up and smell the end. The better the scent, the more ready it is. If you can’t smell anything, or it’s really faint, that isn’t the melon for you, not unless you like biting into a juicy chunk of lightly flavored water.”

Bastian shook his head, glad he wasn’t the only one who’d had such a disappointing experience. “No thanks, it sucks when that happens. Especially when they stop ripening once they’re picked so even letting them sit isn’t going to help anything.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh yum, blackberries.”

“Yeah, they had quite a selection at the grocery store last night,” Jarrod admitted. “I couldn’t have wished for any better.”

“I’m still blown away that you did this.”

“Why?”

“’Cause people don’t go out of their way to do things like this for me.”

“Their loss.”

“When you say it like that, it’s easy to believe you mean it.”

“Good, ’cause I do.”

He said it with such certainty; he left little doubt in Bastian’s mind that he was telling the truth. Still, there was that tiny, lingering voice ringing with pessimism, reminding him to be cautious and not be so eager to trust.