Page 7 of Filthy Uncle To Go
The entire foundation of our family would be shaken. That’s why I have to stay as far away from him as possible. I’ve made it through dinner, and now there are only a couple more hours until he leaves and disappears until the next major holiday. I get anxious before every family function, wondering whether or not he’s going to be there while secretly hoping he makes it to every last one just so I can see him.
I drive myself insane as I pine for him, hoping that one day he will tell me that he’s secretly in love with me too. I know that day will never come, but a girl can fantasize, right? He has no idea that my heart beats for him and that late at night, I lie awake thinking of him, longing to be cradled in his arms. If he knew, he’d probably think I was crazy. After all, you have to be pretty nuts to fall in love with your uncle.
My feelings for him developed on Christmas a few years ago when he sent me a teen romance novel when I was in high school. He couldn’t make it to Grandma and Grandpa’s house that year, but he sent gifts anyway. I read that novel from cover to cover, not only falling in love with the hero, but also falling in love with Uncle Drake because everything about the hero reminded me of my uncle, from his icy blue eyes to his alpha male persona. It was the first time I ever touched myself, and shamefully, it was my uncle’s face I imagined before my eyes as I cried out and climaxed for the first time.
Drake continued to send me romance novels year after year, and each one I read made me want him more. I envisioned the two of us in each love story, hoping that he would rush into my bedroom and whisk me away. It sounds silly, but I thought the novels were his way of telling me that he felt the same way I do.
Unfortunately, they were just gifts with no hidden meaning behind them. I was never into cosmetics and fashion like Natalie, but I’ve always loved reading. My parents must’ve told him that I’ll take a book over a makeup palette any day; that’s the only way he could’ve known. He’s never really paid much attention to me, but then again, I was always hiding whenever he came around.
As I place the last few plates into the drying rack, I hear footsteps behind me. It’s probably Mom coming to see if I need any help cleaning up. Slowly, I turn around and find Uncle Drake standing behind me, casually holding an empty wine glass. I gulp as I admire his bulging arms in the navy blue sweater he’s wearing. It’s alright if I look; I just can’t touch.
He glances at me, those crystal blue irises piercing right through me. I’m frozen from his stare, completely caught in a trance. I wonder if he has any clue about the effect his gorgeous eyes have on me. My hands begin to tremble, so I hold tighter onto the fine china dish in my grasp. He slowly walks over, stopping a mere few inches away.
The scent of his cologne drives me wild. I have half a mind to toss the plate onto the floor and run my hands along his solid body, caressing each muscle. I hold my breath as he extends his hand toward me and then pauses before reaching behind me to grab a bottle of wine. He stares into my eyes as he refills his glass, managing not to spill a single drop.
I’m still frozen, unable to move, and more than likely looking like a complete dunce. He takes a sip of the wine, our eyes still locked, but neither of us utters a single word. Another roar comes from the living room. Everyone else seems to be consumed by the football game and unaware that we’re in the kitchen alone together. He places the wine glass onto the counter next to him and then reaches for the plate in my hands.
“Let me help you with that,” he says as he takes the fine china from my grasp.
My hands begin to tremble again, and this time, there’s no way to hide it. I clasp my quivering palms together as he places the dish onto the rack. Then, his strong hand grips the hot water knob, and he slowly turns it, allowing warm liquid to gush from the faucet. He picks up another plate and rinses it off before placing it onto the rack.
Holy cow, he looks so sexy doing the dishes. He’s a manly man who doesn’t mind doing a little housework, and he looks hot being domestic. Usually, I would want to flee from the kitchen, but right now, there isn’t a single place I’d rather be. I’ve never had a single second alone with Drake in my entire life, so I’m relishing in this moment a bit.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
“It’s no problem at all,” he replies, his deep baritone voice sending a thrill down my spine. “It’s the least I can do. You shouldn’t be stuck in here cleaning up all by yourself.”
“I don’t mind, really. Besides, I’m not much of a football fan,” I admit.
“I remember. Whenever the rest of the family was watching the game, you’d be off somewhere in a corner reading a book,” he says as he rinses off a handful of silverware.
I thought he never noticed me, but it looks like he’s been paying attention to me all along. It was always much easier to let Natalie and Kendrick be the center of attention while I kept quiet in a corner with a book. Natalie’s always doing something to get everyone’s eyes on her, and Kendrick naturally gets noticed because he’s the only boy. While the two of them were fighting over our parents’ attentions, I was always off doing my own thing.
“Thanks again for sending me all of those novels every Christmas,” I say graciously.
“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoyed them,” he says with a warm smile as he wipes his hands on a dish towel.
“I did,” I say, trying not to sound too eager.
“Good, I’m glad. I wasn’t sure whether or not you were into romance novels. I was kind of just taking a guess,” he says as he chuckles, his laugh bringing a smile to my face.
“I like them a lot,” I say. “It sounds silly, but something about them makes me feel like I’m the one falling in love with the handsome hero.”
“I don’t think that’s silly at all,” he says as he gazes into my eyes. Oh no. My heart’s racing again, beating a mile a minute. “You’re a beautiful woman, and someday, a guy is going to come and sweep you off of your feet, just like the heroes in your favorite romance novels do.”
My pulse speeds up. I feel like I’m about to burst again. I can’t believe he just called me beautiful! I’m sure my cheeks are a crimson red right now because my body feels warm all over. He doesn’t have a clue that he’s the one my heart aches for. He’s the hero I’ve been fantasizing about for years.
“You really think so?” I ask, trying to keep my cool.
“I know so. I’m sure a beautiful, smart girl like you probably has a bunch of guys vying for your attention,” he says, wearing a sexy smirk.
“There are a few,” I giggle. “But none of them are man enough for me.”
“Really?” he asks, quirking a black brow.
“Yeah. I want someone sophisticated, not the childish boys lurking around campus,” I say confidently.
“Well, you’ve always been mature for your age,” he remarks.