Cooking Up A Storm - A Norman Reedus Fanfic Romance

Chapter 29 - Don't Have A Confit Man!

BENNY

"What the....Oh Jeez babe....are you alright? "

Getting up off my knees I run to Norman. He's sprawled out face down on the floor of my greenhouse. Surrounded by dozens of pots and other gardening equipment that he's dislodged on the way down.

Picking up speed, I lunge and manage to grab a large terracotta planter. Just before it rolls off its ledge and lands on his head.

"I'm good....it's all good."

He managed to get to his feet and started picking up trowels and gloves, nudging the trellis table with his bum as he did so. My seedling trays are now under serious threat.

"Stop right there, Mister!"  I order, grabbing his arms and backing him up to the old stool I sit on when making up pots.

Brushing the dirt off my dressing gown that he's wearing, I push him down until his butt is securely on the seat.

"Sit and try not to move."

I'm biting my lip. Trying not to burst into laughter as he looks around contritely at the devastation left in his wake.

Failed  🤣

"Ummmm  sorry about the shelf, Ben. I'll fix that up, sweetheart. Oh, and the pots too and....hey! Stop laughing, it's not fucking funny! "

"I'm laughing with you not at you, Hurricane Norman"  Leaning over I wipe a smear of dirt off his face before planting an apologetic kiss on his nose.

He grumbled under his breath.

"Didn't know I was fucking laughing, Missy."

"Hmmmm, sounds like someone got out of bed on the wrong side this morning....dear? "

Can't throw that all on him, though. Considering I'm pulling one hell of a mood myself.

He's leaving today. And both of us are dreading the moment when he has to get on his bike and head for the airport.

It's Sunday, New Year's Eve.

Norman is flying to New York for a party tonight and to be with his son tomorrow. He's ambivalent about this evening, but very much looking forward to seeing Mingus again.

From there it's down to Florida to continue filming his series. He's beyond excited because he'll soon be riding with one of his all-time idols and good friend....Peter Fonda.

But even that excitement has waned over the last twenty-four hours as the realisation hit him.

Hit us both.

Nine weeks at least until he'll be back in Senoia.

I woke at four AM and couldn't find sleep again.

Rather than toss and turn, risk waking him? I quietly bundled up. Then came out here to the old greenhouse and started planting my veggie seeds in prep for the winter thaw.

That was four hours ago.

"Woke up, had a wizz and made a call. Then I couldn't find you, Missy....got worried. Came outside for a smoke and heard the music. Didn't know about the step up in this damned thing. Can I have my puff in here, Ben?"

Gave a nod and passed him a little pot to use as an ashtray. Before picking everything up and resetting the shelf he pulled down with him.

When it's all done, I sit down on my little kneeling pad and bring my gaze up to his.

He's got a very strange look on his face. It's a mix of sheepishness and stubbornness. Like he's done something he shouldn't have....but consequences be damned?