“Desi, you remember Jaxson, right?” she introduces, making it extremely clear to everyone in the room that this introduction is no accident or coincidence.
“I cannot believe my mother,”I fume to Neil as I pace back and forth while he sits on the bed in what was once my childhood bedroom.
“Wearing a hole in the carpet isn’t going to change what she did,” he replies, pulling me to stand between his legs by my hips.
Planting my hands on his shoulders, I say, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea she was going to invite him.”
“Or that she was going to use it as an opportunity to set you two up?”
“That either.” I roll my eyes, feeling the heat of my anger all over again. “That woman is impossible sometimes,” I groan. “If this is too strange for you, we can leave.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Really? Are you willing to leave your family’s Thanksgiving dinner? The same one you spent hours cooking over.”
I wave my hand in the air dismissively. “I spend hours in the kitchen all the time. I’m used to it.” I peer down at him, squeezing his shoulders, and swallow as I stare him in the eye. “This is our first Thanksgiving together, and I don’t want the memory of it tainted by my mother’s meddling.” I let out a deep sigh.
Neil rises, capturing my lips, surprising me. Soon, however, I melt into the kiss, nearly forgetting what our discussion was about in the first place.
Not until he pulls back do I recall the feeling of my anger in the pit of my stomach.What was I mad about again?
“Desi, are you still in there? Our guests are waiting. It’s time to serve dinner,” my mother yells through the door.
And just like that, I remember what had me so pissed off in the first place.
Neil’s gaze moves from the door back to me. “We’re not leaving early. You’d regret leaving your family’s Thanksgiving early. I can handle your mother. You just make sure that Jacob doesn’t touch you.”
“Jaxson,” I correct.
“Whatever. I can’t promise what my actions will be if I find any part of his hands on you. That handshake in the kitchen lasted a little too long for my liking.”
I laugh and rise on my tiptoes, giving him a quick peck on the lips before pulling back. But I don’t get too far when Neil’s hands around my waist tighten. The look he’s giving me is steely.
“I’m serious, Desi. Your mother’s something I can deal with, but that Jarrod isn’t related to you. I may not have any compunction about laying him flat on his ass if he so much as breathes the same air as you for too long.”
His words cause a shiver to run down my back. “You know that sounds crazy, right?” My voice comes out more breathy than usual.
“Crazy as it may be, it’s the truth.” There’s not a hint of laughter or jovialness in his tone. Oddly, I feel my nipples pebble beneath the padding of my bra.
Neil bends low and plants a kiss beneath my earlobe. “Besides, my favorite part of tonight will be once I get you alone, in my family’s cabin, stripped bare for my eyes only. I don’t plan on letting anything or anyone get in the way of that.”
Another shiver. Squeezing my thighs together, I do my best to regroup and turn on my heels, unable to give Neil another look. I know if I do, I might do something crazy, like ask him to take me on the bed he was just sitting on. Right on top of all the coats and jackets the night’s guests have stored there for the evening.
I pull open the door and come face-to-face with my frowning mother. A heartbeat later, I feel Neil’s heat at my back.
My mother looks me up and down in the way I’ve grown accustomed to. She’s been doing it since I was a child. I brace for her to tell me that either my hair needs straightening or my shirt should be tucked in or untucked, or any number of things. My mother can always find anything to nitpick at me over. She did it to Dierdre as well.
Yet, Neil’s presence behind me gives me the strength not to feel belittled or anxious underneath my mother’s gaze.
“It’s rude to keep our guests waiting.”
“Last time I checked, they wereyourguests,” I mumble.
“What was that?” she asks over her shoulder as we stride in a line down the hall.
“I said, I can’t wait to eat. I’m feeling famished.”
“I hope you don’t overeat. You don’t want to look like a glutton in front of Jaxson.”
“A glutton is the last thing Desiree is, Mrs. Jackson. She goes out of her way to ensure that others are satisfied before she even thinks of eating. A testament to why her cookie business is doing so well,” Neil defends.
