Waking to endless banging Mary O’Sullivan slipped on her red woolen slippers, shuffling to the end of her bed she put on the white down filled robe, securing the belt tight around her waist.
“God it’s colder than the north pole in here.”
Shivering she picked up the brightly colored woven wool blanket wrapping it around her shoulders holding it tight with her hand.
“Hells bells, furnace not working again?” Mary’s voice cracked, she coughed the cold air filling her lungs.
Turning the cold metal doorknob she opened the bedroom door, cold air wafted in from the living room causing her to quiver, she rubbed her cold hands, clutching them she blowing her breath to warm them, blinking the tears from her eyes, sniffling she stepped out of the doorway.
Mary’s eyes quickly surveying the room questioning, “What the hell?”
Laying in front of the Christmas tree a large seal skin coat spread on the floor, a black headband of fur next to it, by the oak end table laid a grey sweatshirt, “Who’s here, come out so I can see you…”
Her heart racing, chills of fear now rising to the surface, she tightened the hold on the blanket. “Oh for heaven’s sake, hello, whoever you are show yourself!”
Mary hollered then started to laugh, “Drunken dream again.” She cautiously stepped further into the room, the overnight snowstorms brightness lighting the cabin as she noticed the big wooden door was open, screen door frosted over.
“What in tarnation is going on, I must be dreaming, that was some powerful brandy I had last night or maybe shouldn’t have,” She tilted her head picking up the empty bottle lying on the floor by the coat. “Alize’,” She questioned her mind.
“No wonder it’s so cold in here.”
She moved over to the door pushing it with slam, “If there’s someone hear you surely heard that. Come out of hiding if you’re here.”
Suddenly she heard running water coming from her kitchen; she shuffled over to the doorway and stopped dead in her tracks.
Six and a half feet of half-naked male stood at the sink, blue and white speckled metal coffee pot full of water, he pushed a measuring cup down in the coffee canister and dumped it in the pot along with a handful of eggshells, turning the stove knob to high as it ignited.
“Well, you’re awake, Mary O’Sullivan, forgot you brought me home last night. Coffee will be boiling soon.”
He approached her, only wearing his flight suite, the top unzipped and hanging down around his hips, his body covered with sculptured muscles, his face ruggedly handsome, unshaven, a smile welcoming her with blue eyes so deep she wanted to dive into them.
“Oh my god I did, how could I have forgotten about you, we or did I dream a night of passion with you.”
“No dream Mrs. O’Sullivan it was ravenous unbridled passion steaming and delicious, I believe you just hollered out about a drunken dream, we got close to drunk on good French brandy I brought home to you. I must admit it was the best damn night of sex we’ve had since I enlisted.”
She noticed his helmet on the counter, listening to every word, she walked over to his side, “I have missed you so much Brady O’Sullivan no wife should have to live without this body next to her and deep inside her.” Mary pulled his face down to her and ran her tongue around his mouth and deep into his mouth, blanket slipping to the floor, he engulfed her with his mouth, only to hear the splash of the coffee on the stove.
“Better take care of this before we burn this place down.” She stepped back, licking her lips. “Why is the door open Brady, you trying to run off?”
“Never my love, I attempted to fix the banging shutter, but couldn’t get the screen door open, froze shut, it seems we had an ice storm on top of all this snow last night. The O’Sullivan’s are stuck in their cabin, pray for sunshine or we not going anywhere. I’m starting a big fire in the fireplace and we can talk about my last journey away from you.”
Brady went to the living room, started rolling up newspapers laying them on the hearth of the fireplace, wadding up papers he shoved under the grate, placing the three two-foot long fat oak logs on top. Grabbing a long match from the holder hanging on the side of the mantel he struck it on the rock and lit the fire, using the bellows to spread the flames.
Mary came in the living room with two ironstone mugs of steaming boiled coffee handing one to Brady, “Your favorite, welcome home.” They sat in silence watching the fire growing into a blaze while drinking their coffee.
“So Brady tell me why you have on the flight suit this morning, forget where your clothes are in the dresser, or you playing with my body’s longing this morning?”
“I could ask you the same thing Mary, you have burned in my mind what’s under that downy robe, that you still have yourself wrapped in… there is absolutely nothing but your alabaster skin with little love bites of mine and hopefully, I planted a little one last night that is already growing inside you.” Brady reached across her shoulder pulling her in closer to his mouth for lingering kiss.
“Ooh, I miss you, would love nothing more than to be with your child this morning. Dare I ask will we be hot and sexy all day? You said your final journey, did you mean you are through flying helicopters now and I can stop worrying about when you’ll be home.”
He took her hands in his, “Mary O’Sullivan your husband has turned in his resignation, and you will have me home every night forever, my last promise fulfilled,” Lavishing her lips with his hot wet kisses.