“Y’all are cute and all, but you know, I’m nineteen, too, so you coulda been talking to me,” my dad drawls slowly from behind us.
I can practically feel Hendrix tense up at his words. My dad may be okay with us, but he’s still an overprotective father.
Hendrix sets me down quickly, and we both scramble to turn toward my dad, only to find my grandfathers and Uncle Beau at his side too.
“Also, it’s about fifteen degrees outside in this damn state,” Bampie Hardy says. “Why in the hell are you two lovebirds leaving the door open while y’all play tonsil hockey?”
My hand finds Hendrix’s, and I squeeze it. It’s my way of telling him that, yes, he has to deal with these men for the holiday, and yes … I am sorry in advance.
Hendrix quickly reaches out to close the door. “You’re absolutely right, sir.” He nods hastily. “Sorry about that.”
Bampie’s eyes search over Hendrix for a moment, and I think I hold my breath. This man came into my life when I was a toddler, and honestly, he’s as protective over me as anyone is. Finally, he steps toward us and holds his hand out.
“I’m Jaxon,” he mutters, shaking Hendrix’s hand and keeping hold of it. “I hear you’re sweet on my granddaughter here.”
“Yes, sir,” Hendrix practically squeaks.
I have to admit, I’m kind of enjoying seeing him so nervous. He’s always so sure of himself—as he should be. Who knew a man in his sixties would make Hendrix so uncomfortable? But here we are.
“I don’t need to give you the spiel; I’m sure my boy has already done that,” he says with a curt nod and finally releases his hand before stepping back.
My uncle Beau watches the interaction before uttering something to my dad. I can’t hear what he said, but whatever it was must have been funny because my dad’s face breaks out into a full grin, and he chuckles lightly.
“Care to share with the class, Uncle B?” I say, jerking my chin up toward him. “We want to laugh too.”
He glances at my dad before smirking.
“I was just telling your dad that Hendrix must feel about like your old man did when Papa figured out your dad was chasing after Addy,” he drawls slowly, his eyes cutting to Hendrix. “Good luck, man. That’s all I gotta say. This family is, uh … a little fucking insane. But you’ll do fine.”
“All right … annnd I’m regretting saying anything,” I mutter, thanking my lucky stars when the women of the house walk out of the kitchen.
Instantly, my mom eyes over the guys suspiciously before she walks over to us.
“Thank you so much for joining us, Hendrix,” she says with her signature warm, inviting smile before giving him a small hug. “Are your sister, Kolt, and Paige on their way?”
Hendrix quickly nods because, just like my dad does, my mom makes him nervous too, I can tell. “Yes, ma’am. They should be here any minute.”
“Great!” My mom claps her hands together. “We’re waiting on Mila and Beau’s kids too. Which, by the way, it looks like you’ve already met Beau, but this is Mila. Mila is Cam’s sister and Isla’s aunt.”
“I know exactly who she is,” Hendrix says quickly. “Growing up, my sister was a huge fan of yours.”
“Wow, really?” Mila’s face lights up before she nudges my uncle’s side. “See, babe. I’m still cool. Bet he didn’t even know who you were.” She winks.
Beau rolls his eyes, and she giggles.
“I’m joking. I’m joking.”
Even though her hair is dark and she tends to wear dark clothing, Aunt Mila is one of the nicest people I know. But she’s also a complete badass. The woman has won more drag races than most of the men she competes against put together. She’s retired now, but for a while, she was featured on so many magazines and was even on a reality show about drag racing.
“For the record, I do know who you are,” Hendrix says to Beau. “It’d be hard not to know who NFL legend Beau Bishop is, I think.” Hendrix glances at me and grins. I can tell right away that he’s trying to force himself to be more comfortable. “Youdidn’t tell me that Thanksgiving would basically be all famous athletes.”
The doorbell rings, and he widens his eyes. “And seeing as that’s probably my sister, we can add another professional athlete in the mix.”
I squeeze his hand again. “It’s going to be fun, I promise,” I whisper before I release his hand and open the door.
His sister, Lilly, smiles at me. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
“You too.” I smile, opening the door wider. “Come on in.”
